For two years, my boss called me his younger brother. The day I asked why my salary was three months late, I learned what that brotherhood meant. I joined the company when I was still struggling to find my feet. The salary wasn't much, but I was grateful for the opportunity. My boss treated me well in the beginning. He checked on me, invited me to eat with him, and sometimes told other staff members that he saw me as a younger brother. I believed him. Whenever salaries were delayed, he always had a reason. Sometimes a client hadn't paid. Sometimes the company was going through a difficult period. Other times, he promised everything would be settled the following week. I kept being patient. I had rent to pay, bills piling up, and family members who didn't know I was struggling. I stopped buying certain things for myself. I borrowed money to get through the month. There were days I went to work with barely enough money to get home. Still, I kept showing up and doing my job. I told myself that the company would eventually recover and that my loyalty would mean something. Then, one Monday morning, I walked into his office and asked if he could at least pay part of what he owed me. I wasn't rude. I didn't raise my voice. I simply explained that I had responsibilities I could no longer ignore. He looked at me for a moment before asking, "So because of money, you've forgotten everything I've done for you?" I didn't know what to say.