Chapter 4

Emma's POV

Mom rolled her eyes at me and quickly changed the subject. "Nathan's finishing his master's this year. He already accepted a position at the Westbridge Geological Institute."

Grandpa and Grandma lit up. "I knew our grandson would do well for himself. That's wonderful."

Grandma turned to Clara. "And what about you, sweetheart? Have you found a job yet?"

Dad jumped in before she could answer. "She has. She got a position with one of the big utility companies. She's just waiting for her start date."

"That's my girl." Grandma beamed. Then her gaze slid toward me. "Both of them have done so well. Unlike some people who have no shame about sitting around at home and living off their parents."

"I have a job too," I said calmly. "I'm flying out in a couple of days."

Grandma gave a dismissive snort. "Sure you are. You probably can't even afford the plane ticket."

I didn't argue.

That evening, there was a big family dinner, and everyone headed out together. With so many relatives going, Clara volunteered to ride with Grandma in a cab. For once, there was actually an empty seat in the SUV.

As we reached the car, Nathan opened the front passenger door for me. "You get carsick too, don't you?"

I looked at him. "You've got the wrong sister."

Then I walked around him and climbed into the back.

By the time we reached the restaurant, my aunts, Patricia Winston and Susan Winston, stared at me for several seconds without recognizing me.

"Emma?" Aunt Patricia's eyes widened. "Is that really you? You've lost so much weight!"

She took my hand and looked me over. "You didn't say a word to anyone. Look at you. You're all skin and bones. Your parents must've been worried sick."

A quiet laugh escaped me. I didn't answer.

Across the table, Mom and Dad exchanged an awkward glance.

Suddenly, Grandma grabbed at her wrist. Her expression changed. "My bracelet! Where's my gold bracelet?"

Grandpa frowned. "Why are you yelling? Are you sure you didn't leave it at home?"

"Of course, I'm sure! I was wearing it when we left."

Then she turned. Before I even realized what was happening, her palm cracked across my face. "Was it you? You've always had sticky fingers!"

My ears rang. For a second, I couldn't hear anything else. I pressed a hand to my burning cheek and stared at her. "I didn't take it! Clara was the one in the cab with you. Why are you accusing me?"

Every head at the table turned toward Clara. Her eyes darted around. Then, almost instantly, they filled with tears. "It wasn't me. Why would I ever steal from Grandma?"

Her voice broke as she looked at me. "Emma, I know you're angry with Mom and Dad, but you don't have to blame me for something I didn't do."

Mom looked at me. Something seemed to click into place for her, and suddenly, there wasn't a trace of doubt on her face. "It was you."

I stared at her.

"It had to be. You just said you're leaving for some job, didn't you? Where are you getting the money for a plane ticket? If you didn't take the bracelet, then who did?"

Something inside me snapped. "I said I didn't take it!"

My voice tore across the table. "You're doing it again! You've always done this! Nathan or Clara would do something wrong, and somehow, I would be the one you blamed!"

I was shaking so badly I couldn't stop my hands. The restaurant blurred around me. For one terrible moment, I wasn't standing there anymore. I was six again.

Six years old and desperately trying to make them believe me.

Trying to explain. Trying to defend myself. Trying to be heard. And no matter how loudly that little girl screamed, no one ever listened.

"Clara and I are twins. So, why was I the one you sent away? Why did you bring me back years later just to tell me I was fat and ugly?

"Why did Nathan and Clara always get new clothes and shoes while I got nothing? Why was there never room for me in the family car?

"Why did they get hundreds every month just for spending money while I had to earn my own tuition? I worked every summer, every winter break. I never got to stop."

My throat tightened.

"Why? Am I not your daughter too?"

Mom's hand struck my face so hard it cut me off mid-sentence. Her eyes were red with fury. "Unbelievable. We raised you, fed you, gave you a home, and this is what we get? A daughter who hates us?

She pointed toward the door. "If you resent us that much, then get out. Get out of this family!"

Dad's face had gone equally cold. "Still keeping score over things that happened when you were a kid? After everything this family has done for you? You're unbelievably ungrateful."

Something strange flickered across Clara's face. Then she lunged for my bag. "I saw it! The bracelet is in there!"

My blood ran cold. Inside that bag were confidential documents for the research program.

"Don't touch that!" I threw myself forward and yanked her away.

Clara lost her balance and fell hard. Her knee struck the floor, scraping it badly enough to draw blood. She looked up at me, furious. "See? You're panicking because you know I'm right! You stole it!"

Mom actually looked relieved. As if Clara's accusation had given her exactly the answer she'd wanted.

Before I could move, she grabbed my shoulders and forced me down. My knees hit the floor with a painful thud.

"Stay there," she snapped. "You stole your grandma's bracelet, then tried to frame your sister? You can kneel there and think about it until you finally understand something. Is this family really the one that's wronged you? Or have you brought every bit of this on yourself?"

A crowd had gathered outside the restaurant. People stood around watching, whispering just loudly enough for me to hear.

"She's old enough to know better than to steal."

"No wonder her own parents can't stand her."

I knelt there without reacting. My knees hurt so badly, it felt like needles were being driven into them, but after a while, the pain seemed to spread up my legs, through my body, until it settled somewhere deep inside my chest.

And then, strangely, it stopped hurting. For years, some small part of me had kept holding on.

That last thread finally snapped. There was nothing left to wait for.

I didn't know how long I stayed there.

Eventually, I gripped the railing and forced myself to my feet. My legs had gone stiff, and every step hurt, but I made it to the curb and hailed a cab.

I went back to the apartment one last time. I picked up my woven moving bag. I folded the cot and put it back where I'd found it. Then I took out my phone and deleted every number.

When I was done, I picked up my bag and walked out. The door clicked shut behind me.

I didn't look back and went straight to the airport.