When I returned from my trip, my belongings were dumped on the lawn with a note: “If you want to stay, move into the basement.” So I moved into my secret apartment—and stopped paying. Six months later, they knocked on my door and asked if they wanted to move in.

So I gave up my apartment and moved back into my childhood bedroom. It felt strange at first, but I set up my computer, got a good internet connection, and got started. Since I was doing most of my work remotely, it wasn't a big adjustment. And honestly, it ended up working out better than I expected.

I earned a decent income—around $85,000 a year as a developer—but the real money came from bonuses. Whenever one of my software products was acquired by a large tech company, I got a cut. Some months, that meant an extra $10,000 to $15,000 in my pocket.

My salary went directly to household expenses: mortgage, utilities, groceries, car insurance, all the basic necessities. It never felt like a burden. But what my family didn't know was that I put every bonus into a separate savings account. I never said a word about it—not to my parents, not even to my older brother, Marcus, who lived across town with his wife and children.

I absolutely loved it. But I knew if they found out what I was actually making, they'd come and take a piece of it. Marcus, in particular, was always asking for help with money.

Hey Zoya, can you lend me $500? Tommy needs new soccer cleats.

“Zoya, Sandra's mother needs surgery, and we have few medical bills.”

I did what I could to support the family with my steady income, but I never mentioned the bonuses. Over two years, I quietly saved nearly $180,000. I was about to buy my own house.

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