No Seat at Home

I didn't tell anyone the day I submitted my college application.

The background-check form required a parent's signature. So, I deliberately picked one of Dad's busiest afternoons to hand it to him. He was sitting at his computer, paying the fees for Tania's art exam prep course.

He didn't even glance at the top of the form before absentmindedly picking up a pen and signing his name.

The physical exam and interview were held in the city. So, I told my family I was staying at a classmate's place for two days.

None of them asked me which classmate.

My phone lit up just as I sat on a hard plastic chair in the domestic departure hall, finishing the last bite of my bread.

Soon, a photo popped up in our family group chat.

Tania was holding up her champagne-colored boarding pass, flashing a peace sign at the camera. Derrick had an arm around her shoulder, grinning brightly.

Mom sent a voice message right after. "Tania is flying business class for the first time. She's absolutely thrilled."

Dad replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

There were four of us in the group, but not one of them mentioned me. Heck, not one of them ever thought to ask me whether I'd made it home safely.

However, Tania sent me a private message.

She even added a smiley face at the end as if it would make it sound better. "Riley, I left my new dress drying on the balcony. Can you bring it in when you get home? Don't let it get rained on."

My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment.

"Okay."

I scrolled through our chat history after sending that perfunctory response.

For the past three years, Tania's messages to me had always been about one of three things: helping her pick up a package, turning in her homework for her, or telling Mom and Dad she'd be home late.

Every single message began with the same two words—"Help me."

Just then, the boarding announcement for my flight to Beckham City came over the speakers.

I listened to the name of the city, the same city that was home to the University of Defense Technology.

My acceptance letter was sealed inside a waterproof pouch at the very bottom of my backpack, along with my residency transfer papers.

…

The day my acceptance letter arrived, Dad was busy celebrating Tania's admission to Solaris University.

The living room was filled with balloons, and there was a cake with the words "May Tania Have a Bright Future Ahead" written across it.

The courier rang the doorbell three times. In the end, I was the one who went downstairs to sign for my own acceptance letter.