No More: Cutting Ties With My Golden-Boy Brother

Word around the village was that my brother's wedding would be something special, a proper feast thrown at the state-run restaurant.

The day of the wedding, everyone did head to the state-run restaurant, and halfway through the banquet, I, the older sister, got called outside by one of the staff.

"Excuse me, you're Ms. Darlene Summers, aren't you?"

I nodded. The man produced a receipt. "This is the receipt for the wedding banquet you booked with us a week ago. If you could settle the balance now, please."