Auditing My Brother’s Fake Dream

But instead of picking up a brush himself, he pinned that entire, delusional ambition onto my brother, Tyler—a man whose primary talent is converting expensive espresso into wasted hours. And I, a forensic accountant who lives my life by the cold, hard logic of a balance sheet, became the only obstacle in their way.

To scrape together the funds for Tyler’s "debut gallery exhibition," my father announced a plan so reckless it made my blood run cold during our family dinner.

He was going to sell the house. Our only home.