Chapter 3

When we got home, Mom stopped me before I could enter my bedroom.

“Start packing your things tonight. The contractor is coming tomorrow.”

I looked at her. “What contractor?”

“We’re knocking through the wall between your room and Emma’s. She needs a walk-in closet for all her new work clothes.”

For a moment, I thought she was joking.

Emma already had the largest bedroom in the house. Mine was barely big enough for a bed and a desk.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?”

Mom pointed toward the storage room beside the laundry area.

“We’ll clear it out and put a twin bed in there. It’s only temporary.”

I opened the door.

Old furniture and cardboard boxes filled most of the room. A tall cabinet blocked half the window, and dark stains spread across one corner of the ceiling.

“Your father and I are thinking about buying a bigger house next year. When we move, you can choose your bedroom first. You can decorate it however you want.”

Next year. The words sounded painfully familiar.

When Emma broke the laptop we shared in high school, Mom bought her a new one and promised I would get mine the following year.

That laptop never came.

When Dad used the money they had saved for my graduation trip to send Emma to an out-of-state dance competition, he promised we would take my trip the next summer.

We never did.

Every promise my parents made me came with the same expiration date.

Someday, next year, when things got easier.

Somehow, that day always arrived for Emma.

It never arrived for me.

“I’m not sleeping in there,” I said.

It was the first time I had refused to give Emma something.

Mom’s expression hardened.

“Emma will be working long hours once she starts at Westbridge. She needs a proper space where she can stay organized.”

“It’s my room.” I insisted.

Mom gave a tired sigh.

“Natalie, this is our house. We’re asking you to use a different room for a few months, not sleep on the street.”

She made it sound so reasonable.

As if losing my bedroom was a minor inconvenience.

As if Emma’s clothes deserved more space than I did.

“What if my job is better than Emma’s?” I asked quietly. “Would I get to keep my room then?”

Mom frowned.

“This isn’t a competition. And making up some impressive job because you’re jealous of your sister won’t help anyone.”

Dad looked up from his phone.

“If the storage room doesn’t work for you, you’re an adult now. You’re free to make other arrangements.”

I looked from Mom to Dad.

“Fine.” Then I turned and walked out.

They thought I was being dramatic.

Mom didn’t ask where I would go. She only reminded me to empty the room before the contractor arrived.

I booked a bunk in a six-bed dorm at a hostel downtown.

It cost thirty-nine dollars a night.

Whenever the woman in the bunk below me turned over, the entire metal frame shook. Someone snored across the room, and the hallway smelled like old coffee and bleach.

But as I lay there, I felt safer than I had at home.

At least I had paid for this bed.

For tonight, it truly belonged to me.

I just had to make it through two more days.

The next morning, I returned to pack.

When I opened my jewelry box, Grandma’s cameo pendant was gone.

Grandma had been the only person in our family who ever seemed to understand me.

When I was eight, I came down with a fever while Mom was at Emma’s dance recital. Grandma drove me to urgent care and stayed beside me all night.

“You’re not as tough as everyone thinks, sweetheart,” she once told me. “You only hide the pain because no one stops long enough to comfort you.”

After she died, the antique pendant was the only thing of hers I had left.

I carried the empty box into the hallway.

“Mom, where’s Grandma’s necklace?”

She was stripping the sheets from my bed.

“I have no idea. You’re always misplacing things.”

My phone buzzed.

Dad had posted a photo in the family group chat.

He had arranged a lunch to introduce Emma to one of Westbridge’s hiring managers. In the photo, Emma wore her new navy suit and leather tote.

Around her neck was Grandma’s cameo.

I held the picture in front of Mom.

Her hands paused.

Then she shrugged.

“Emma needed something to finish the outfit, so I let her borrow it.”

“You went through my jewelry box?”

“You never wear it, Natalie. What was the point of letting it sit there collecting dust?”

“Grandma left it to me.”

Mom’s face cooled.

“I’m your mother. I shouldn’t need permission to borrow one necklace.”

“It wasn’t yours to lend.”

“Your grandmother loved Emma too. She would be ashamed to see you acting this selfish over a piece of jewelry.”

“Grandma wouldn’t be ashamed of me.”

The tears came before I could stop them.

My voice began to shake.

“She was the only person in this family who never made me give Emma everything I loved.”

I turned toward the front door.

Mom stepped in front of it.

“Emma is meeting someone who could help her career. You are not going to storm into that restaurant and embarrass her over a necklace.”

The lock clicked before I could answer.

Emma walked in.

Her fingers rested on the cameo at her throat.

“Are you looking for this?” she asked.

She removed the necklace and laid it across her palm.

“I didn’t know Grandma left it specifically to you. Mom said it was a graduation gift.”

I stayed where I was and held out my hand.

“Give it back.”

There were still two full steps between us.

But she suddenly let go.

The pendant struck the tile and shattered.

Emma stumbled backward as tears filled her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “You came at me so fast. You scared me.”