When my parents died in a tragic accident, I became the legal guardian of my fourteen-year-old brother, Liam. We were both devastated, but somehow we learned to lean on each other. I worked hard to give him a stable home, and by sixteen, Liam had become responsible and independent, balancing school with two part-time jobs while still enjoying being a teenager.

A year ago, I met Melissa. She seemed kind and understanding, especially when I explained how important Liam was to me. Eventually, I asked her to move in with us. She agreed, although she made it clear she would not contribute financially. I accepted because I believed our relationship was worth it. On moving day, I left to buy groceries for our first dinner together. But when I returned home, I stopped dead. Liam’s clothes, books, and computer were stacked outside on the porch. Melissa had decided that my little brother needed to move out.