Alright, this is a long one, and I honestly need an outside perspective.

Several years ago, I (28F) was living with my older brother "Tom" (37M) and his wife "Karen" (34F). I had just graduated from college, had a pretty bad job at the time, and was struggling to make ends meet. Tom had a house with a guest room, and he told me I could stay with them for a while until I got back on my feet. I was beyond grateful, and I made sure to help out however I could — cooking, cleaning, buying groceries when I could afford it.

Fast forward about six months. I finally landed a decent job and was able to contribute more financially. I was on my way to becoming independent. Around this time, Karen got pregnant. At first, everything seemed fine, but then Karen started dropping subtle hints that they needed more space for the baby. The hints soon turned into direct conversations about how they needed the guest room for a nursery. Tom assured me that I could stay until I found a new place, but Karen was clearly becoming more agitated by the day.

Then, one afternoon, I came home from work to find all my stuff packed up and sitting in the hallway. Tom told me that Karen had decided they needed me out ASAP. No discussion, no warning. He tried to soften the blow by saying they’d help me with a security deposit on a new place, but it was humiliating and hurtful. I ended up couch surfing for a couple of months until I could afford a small studio apartment. It was a really tough time for me, both emotionally and financially. I’ll never forget the feeling of being thrown out of my own brother’s house like that.

Fast forward to now. Tom’s life has taken a turn. His business went under, and they’re having financial issues. Last week, he called me out of the blue, sounding desperate. They’re being evicted from their house and have nowhere to go. He asked if he, Karen, and their two kids could stay with me for "a few months" while they get back on their feet.

Here’s the thing: I’m doing much better now. I have a good job, a nice apartment, and I’ve been saving for a house. I can technically accommodate them, but the thought of letting them move in after what they did to me years ago just doesn’t sit right.

I told Tom I needed to think about it, and ever since, he’s been sending me guilt-trippy texts about how “family is supposed to be there for each other” and how they have nowhere else to go. Even my parents have gotten involved, saying I should let them stay with me because “they’re family” and “what happened years ago is in the past.”

But here’s the kicker: Karen hasn’t apologized once for how they treated me. Not a word. She didn’t even acknowledge it when we spoke on the phone. It’s like they expect me to just forget about it and welcome them with open arms. I’m torn. Part of me feels like I should help because they are my family, but the other part of me feels like this is karmic justice.

AITA for refusing to let them stay with me after what they did? Or should I let the past go and help them out in their time of need?