Chapter 3

The next evening, Dad insisted on going ahead with Chloe’s birthday dinner.

Her birthday was the reason we had gone to the mountains in the first place. The wildfire had destroyed our vacation home and sent us fleeing to a hotel, but Dad refused to cancel the celebration.

“After what she went through, she deserves one normal night,” he said.

Apparently, I hadn’t gone through anything.

Dad had reserved a private dining room at an upscale Spanish restaurant near the hotel.

By the time I arrived on borrowed crutches, several relatives and family friends were already gathered around the table.

I came in last, my bandaged foot throbbing with every step.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Aunt Melissa rushed straight to Chloe. “Look how pale you are. You must have been terrified.”

Chloe gave her a smile.

“I’m okay. Just still a little shaken.”

Mom sat beside her and squeezed her hand.

“She’s barely slept. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees the fire.”

“Thank God you got her out in time,” someone said.

“You two did everything right,” another relative told my parents. “Chloe is a lucky to girl.”

I stopped in the doorway.

No one mentioned that I had been the one who dragged Chloe out of the burning house.

Finally, Uncle Ryan noticed me.

“Natalie made it too,” he said awkwardly.

His eyes dropped to my crutches and the blood showing through the bottom of my bandage.

“What happened to your foot?”

Dad was studying the wine list. He didn’t look up.

“She stepped on something while we were evacuating. Natalie never watches where she’s going.”

A few people glanced at me, but no one asked anything else.

I took the only empty chair, at the far end of the table.

A server came in and explained that Dad had arranged a set menu for the entire party. Spanish ham and grilled octopus would be followed by a large seafood paella.

All of Chloe’s favorites.

“Does anyone have any allergies or dietary restrictions?” the server asked.

I opened my mouth.

“No,” Mom answered immediately. “We’re all good.”

The server nodded and left.

It wasn’t an allergy.

When I was twelve, I got so sick after eating seafood that I spent two days in the hospital, unable to keep down even a sip of water.

Ever since then, the smell alone had been enough to turn my stomach.

My parents knew that. But seafood was Chloe’s favorite, so we kept going to seafood restaurants anyway.

At first, Mom would tell me to fill up on bread and side dishes.

I was never given the chance to complain.

Eventually, I stopped reminding them.

And they stopped remembering.

When the paella arrived, the pan was crowded with shrimp, mussels, clams, and lobster, the rice soaked in seafood broth.

“Make sure she gets one of the lobster tails,” he told the server. “Birthday girl gets the best one.”

Mom picked the largest pieces of shrimp from the pan and added them to Chloe’s plate.

“You hardly ate anything today. You need the protein.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Chloe looked down the table at me. “Nat, aren’t you eating?”

Before I could answer, she reached for the serving spoon and started scooping a few shrimp onto my plate.

“Leave it,” Mom said sharply. “Your arm is hurt. Natalie can serve herself.”

I stared at the seafood covering every inch of the pan.

“I’m not hungry.”

I pushed my plate away.

Dad set down his wineglass.

“Seriously, Natalie?”

Every conversation at the table stopped.

“What?”

“It’s your sister’s birthday. Everyone came here to celebrate with her, and you’ve been sitting there looking miserable since you walked in.”

“My foot hurts.”

“So does Chloe’s arm, but she isn’t ruining dinner for everyone else.”

Aunt Melissa shifted uncomfortably.

“David, they both had a frightening day. Maybe Natalie just needs some rest.”

“She always does this,” Dad said. “The second Chloe gets any attention, Natalie finds a way to make it about herself.”

No one spoke.

I sat beneath their stares and heard all the familiar words they didn’t need to say aloud.

Difficult. Cold. Jealous.

I had worn those labels in this family for so long that no one remembered who had put them there.

By the time dinner ended, the blood had soaked through the bottom of my bandage.

No one noticed.

Back at the hotel, Chloe went upstairs with Aunt Melissa to open the rest of her birthday presents.

Mom stopped me in the lobby.

“Natalie, wait. Your father and I need to talk to you.”

Mom reached into her purse and handed me a credit card.

“We want Chloe to see a trauma therapist as soon as we get home. We found a specialist who works with wildfire survivors, but she’s out of network.”

I waited.

Mom only used that careful voice when she wanted me to give something up.

I already knew something of mine was about to disappear.

“So we’re going to put off replacing your laptop,” Mom continued. “Yours still turns on, and you said most of your coursework can be done at the library.”

The laptop froze almost every hour. Dad had promised me a new one for graduation.

But promises made to me had always been temporary.

Mom tapped the card.

“Tomorrow, take Chloe shopping. Most of the clothes she brought to the vacation house smell like smoke, and she shouldn’t have to keep wearing them after what happened.”

What happened.

As though Chloe had been the only one inside that house.

“I’ll do it,” I said.

Mom blinked, apparently surprised that I hadn’t argued.

Then her expression softened.

“Thank you. I knew you’d understand.”

I picked up the card and slipped it into my jacket pocket.

They thought I was agreeing to sacrifice one more thing for Chloe.

What they didn’t know was that I no longer needed the laptop they had promised me.

I didn’t need any of their promises.

Cambridge was waiting.

And in two days, I would be gone.