The Daughter They Left Behind Is Done Waiting.

“Emma, why are you just standing there?”

My brother Noah’s impatient voice came from the doorway. He leaned against the frame with one hand.

“Mia hasn’t been feeling well. She can’t be out in the wind too long at the beach.”

“I couldn’t find that white windbreaker in your suitcase. Where did you put it?”

He spoke as if the jacket had belonged to Mia all along. But I had worked shifts at a coffee shop for a month to buy it with my own money.

“In the zippered pocket,” I said quietly.

Noah nodded and turned to leave, then stopped halfway down the hall.

“While we’re gone, give the whole house a good cleaning.”

“Especially Mia’s room. You know she’s allergic to dust.”

He didn’t bother hiding the distaste in his voice. I could have been the unpaid help instead of his sister.

Mom came out of her bedroom carrying Mia’s sun hat.

“Your brother’s right, Emma.”

“You’ve graduated. It’s not like you have anything else to do.”

“Make sure the house is clean by the time we get back.”

She paused, then added, “Oh, and Mia’s dress is still at the dry cleaner. Pick it up on Friday and hang it in her closet.”

The way Mom said it, every one of those chores was naturally my responsibility.

I didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Okay.”

Dad called for everyone to hurry up.

Luke was the last one out.

He used to be the first person to stand up for me whenever someone hurt me.

This time, he came over and lowered his voice.

“Emma, don’t make a scene.”

“You know Mia’s been under a lot of stress over school. She barely slept for weeks.”

“This trip is supposed to help her relax.”

He reached for my hair, as if he could still ruffle it the way he used to.

I tilted my head away.

His hand froze in midair. Annoyance flickered in his eyes before his expression smoothed over again.

“I’ll take you somewhere myself another time.”

“You’ve always been the understanding one. Can’t you just go along with it, for everyone’s sake?”

The understanding one.

That was what everyone called me whenever they wanted me to give something up for Mia.

My parents had favored her for as long as I could remember.

She was beautiful and affectionate, and she knew exactly when to smile, pout, or cry.

I was the clever one. The capable one.

Whenever I asked why Mia always got more, Mom gave me the same answer.

“Mia needs more attention. You’re smart, Emma. You’ll build a good life for yourself no matter what.”

Dad and Noah always agreed.

After years of hearing it, I had almost stopped questioning them.

And everyone expected me to accept it without complaint.

I lifted my chin slightly and forced back the sting in my eyes.

“I understand. Have a safe trip.”

Luke looked surprised, but only for a second. Then he nodded.

“Be good and wait for us at home.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

The entryway fell silent.

I stood there until my legs went numb.

My phone lit up with a notification from the airline.

Mom had canceled my ticket through the family account.

After the cancellation fee, there was hardly anything left to refund.

It didn’t matter anymore.

When I walked into the living room, I found the itinerary I had spent several nights putting together untouched on the coffee table.

I had marked the diving spot Noah wanted to visit, the best places for Mom to take pictures, and the fishing charter Dad wanted to book.

I had even listed the beaches Mia should avoid because she couldn’t stay out in the ocean breeze for too long.

Suddenly, all that effort felt pathetic.

I tore the itinerary into pieces, dropped them in the trash, and went back to my room.

It was barely a room at all.

When I was two, Mia had pouted, “I want a whole room for my princess dolls.”

So my parents turned the bedroom they had set aside for me into her playroom.

By the time I was old enough to need a room of my own, all that was left was this converted storage room.

I pulled an old suitcase from under the bed and began packing everything I owned.

My phone buzzed. The email was from Ms. Stouder, my college counselor.

[Emma, the final transcript I submitted has been approved, and Cambridge has officially confirmed your place.]

[Your funding through the foundation has also been finalized.]

[Could you come by tomorrow? I’d like to see you before you leave.]

I read the email twice. For the first time in months, the tension inside me eased.

I’ll be there tomorrow, I replied.

I tossed my phone onto the bed and glanced at the framed photograph in the corner of my desk.

Luke and I had taken it on his sixteenth birthday.

He was beaming at the camera. I was looking at him, my feelings written all over my face.

But he had worn those feelings down until there was nothing left.

I removed the photograph from the frame and dropped it in the trash.