Chapter 3

After I went to bed, Grandma called.

"Mara, why on earth did you run off to the city?" Her voice was sharp with disapproval. "Don't you know how busy your parents are? Now they have to look after you and your sister. You're only making trouble for them."

I sniffled. "Grandma, do you think I'm getting in the way of their happy family, too?

"Was I adopted? Am I not really theirs?"

"Of course you're theirs! Don't be ridiculous."

"Then why didn't anybody tell me I had a little sister?"

Grandma was silent for a long time before sighing. "Maisie was sickly when she was born. Your parents kept her with them because she needed care. Then they got used to having her around and couldn't bear to send her here like they planned. They hired someone to help watch her instead.

"They worried that if you found out, you'd demand to live in the city, too. They couldn't handle two children at once, so they kept quiet. Once your sister was older and needed less attention, they meant to bring you home."

Why did everyone assume I'd throw a tantrum and demand to move in?

I'd always done exactly what they asked.

Was that really their reason for treating us differently? It sounded so flimsy that it hurt.

"I heard your sister cried all night because you upset her," Grandma continued. "Behave tomorrow. Don't ruin things for everybody."

"...Okay."

But the next morning, Mom was unexpectedly kind.

She made breakfast herself and asked how I'd slept. "I'll take you to Crispy Coop for lunch. You can get a kids' meal and a toy.

"I only kept you away before because I was afraid you'd get hooked on it and wouldn't concentrate on school back in the country."

Maisie heard us and immediately protested. "Mom! You promised to take me for steak today. We just had Crispy Coop yesterday. I don't want it again!"

I lowered my eyes, already bracing myself for Mom to change her mind.

Instead, Mom spoke sternly. "Your sister barely gets to visit. Today we're eating what she wants."

The following day, Mom took me shopping again. She bought me a princess dress and a little toy.

When Maisie saw them, she threw a fit. "Why does she get stuff when I don't? You didn't even take me! I love that dress! I want it!"

Mom frowned. "That dress belongs to your sister. Enough. Keep this up and I'll be angry."

Maisie burst into tears, and Dad led her into the bedroom to comfort her.

I awkwardly apologized to Mom for causing problems.

She stroked my hair. "This isn't your fault."

I was so bewildered by her affection that I couldn't sleep, even after lying awake for more than an hour.

Eventually, I got up to use the bathroom.

As I passed the main bedroom, I heard Mom speaking softly inside. "You'll always be Mommy's one and only precious girl. Stop crying."

I stopped dead.

"I bought that dress for you in the first place," Mom continued. "It's too small for your sister. She won't want it anyway."

My whole body went cold.

"We're just keeping her happy so she doesn't make a fuss. That way she'll go back to Grandma's without complaining. Understand?

"If we treated you the way we usually do, she'd get upset and refuse to leave. We can't have that."

Dad joined in. Together, they talked through how to make sure I'd leave quietly, as if I were a problem they needed to manage.

I didn't even notice my slippers falling off.

The floor felt cold beneath my bare feet.

I touched my chest. That felt cold, too.

I had never once refused to go back to Grandma's.

Not once.

I didn't sleep that night.

Just before dawn, I packed my backpack. I placed the Barbie set and the princess dress Mom had bought me neatly on the coffee table.

I was already twelve. I wasn't especially interested in princess dresses anymore.

I'd actually liked a simpler dress in the store, but Mom had insisted on the frilly one. I'd accepted it to make her happy.

And somehow, in their minds, that had become proof that I was a demanding child who'd cling to them if given half a chance.

I picked up my bag and left without making a sound.

On the bumpy bus back to Grandma's, Mom called. "Mara, where did you go?"

"Where you wanted me to go."

"What does that mean? And why are you wandering around by yourself? Don't you know adults worry when you do that? You..."

For the first time in my life, I hung up on my mother.