Chapter 2

The next morning, Mom took all of us to the mall.

“Emma is about to start at a major company,” she said. “She needs a professional wardrobe.”

Dad’s friend had only arranged an interview at Westbridge, but my family was already treating the job as hers.

Emma tried on a navy suit that cost three hundred dollars, a six-hundred-dollar leather tote, and a pair of heels for a hundred and eighty.

Every time she checked a price tag, Mom waved her off.

“Don’t worry about that. You need to look polished in a corporate office.”

Dad paid without hesitation.

Ryan carried her shopping bags and asked if she needed a new perfume.

Ethan crouched in front of Emma and pressed his thumb against the back of one heel.

“This leather is stiff,” he said. “Try another pair. You don’t want blisters on your first day.”

I stood a few feet away, watching my boyfriend fuss over her.

That tenderness had once belonged to me.

During our freshman year, I had worn a pair of cheap heels on a date because I wanted to look pretty for him. Halfway along the riverfront, the backs of my feet started bleeding.

Ethan sat me down on a bench, ran to the nearest drugstore, and came back with antiseptic wipes and blister bandages.

“You don’t have to hurt yourself trying to impress me, Nat,” he had said as he carefully covered each blister. “You could show up in sweatpants, and I’d still think you were beautiful.”

For my birthday, he bought me an expensive pair of heels—the only ones I had ever owned that didn’t hurt.

Then he got to know Emma.

Little by little, even his tenderness began to belong to her.

We passed a luggage store on our way out, and I stopped.

My suitcase was ten years old. One corner had split open and was wrapped in three layers of clear packing tape. Two of the wheels were so uneven that it tipped whenever I let go of the handle.

I found the cheapest hard-shell suitcase in the store.

It was just under ninety dollars.

Instead of taking it to the register, I carried it to Dad.

“Would it be okay if I got this?”

Even then, some foolish part of me was still hoping.

They had just spent more than a thousand dollars preparing Emma for a job she didn’t officially have.

Surely ninety dollars for a suitcase I actually needed wasn’t too much.

Maybe I simply wanted proof that there was still a place for me in their hearts, no matter how small.

Dad frowned at the suitcase.

“Don’t you already have one?”

“It’s ten years old. The side is cracked, and two of the wheels barely work.”

“But it still closes, doesn’t it?” He sighed. “Natalie, you just graduated. This is when you need to start being responsible with money, not replacing things because they aren’t perfect.”

Mom came over and glanced at the price tag.

“Emma needs those things for her interview. That’s an investment in her career.”

Her eyes moved to the suitcase in my hand.

“You don’t even know where you’ll be working yet. Why buy new luggage before you have somewhere to go?”

They had already decided I would stay close to home and take whatever job I could get.

Ryan laughed.

“You only want it because Emma got new stuff. Not everything has to be a competition, Nat.”

My fingers tightened around the handle.

Then I returned the suitcase to the display.

Emma stood outside the store with her new leather tote over one shoulder and shopping bags piled around her feet.

“Aren’t you getting anything?” she asked.

“No.”

I looked down at the frayed canvas bag I had carried throughout college.

My parents could afford nice things.

Appearances mattered to them.

But whenever I needed something, it became unnecessary, irresponsible, or wasteful.

That evening, Mom reserved a private room at a restaurant to celebrate our graduation.

A large cake waited in the center of the table.

The message written across it was the first thing I saw.

CONGRATULATIONS, EMMA! THE FUTURE IS YOURS!

Emma looked embarrassed.

“Mom, did the bakery forget Natalie’s name?”

Mom didn’t even look up from the menu.

“Natalie doesn’t really care about cake. She won’t mind.”

I did care.

I loved cake.

Mom had simply never bought one for me.

Halfway through dinner, Dad handed Emma a printed letter of recommendation.

“Mark scheduled your interview for Monday,” he said. “He thinks you’d be a great fit for the new project team. Westbridge is close to home, the benefits are excellent, and there’s plenty of room to move up.”

Emma’s eyes filled with tears.

“You have done everything for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Mom reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

“That’s what parents are for, sweetheart. We’ll always make sure you land on your feet.”

I stared at their joined hands and wondered whether I had taken the wrong seat.

The moment between them looked so warm and complete that my presence seemed to spoil it.

Dad paid the bill before we left.

An hour later, my phone buzzed.

Mom had sent me a Venmo request for $43.72.

No one else had received one.

A message followed in the family group chat.

Now that you’ve graduated, it’s time to start paying your own way.

Beginning next month, we’ll expect $450 in rent, plus your share of utilities and groceries.

And please cover your own meals when we eat out.

I stared at the request down to the last seventy-two cents.

That morning, my parents had spent over a thousand dollars on Emma.

That evening, they charged me for my own graduation dinner.

I said nothing. I simply pressed Pay.

If they thought I owed them, fine. I would pay back every cent.

In two days, I would be nearly three thousand miles away.

I would finally be free.