Chapter 3

I passed straight through the wall.

Dad closed the front door behind them while Mom led Nancy inside with burgers and fried chicken, both of which were favorites of mine too.

Then Mom saw that the living room was still a complete mess. Her expression hardened, and she turned to Dad.

"Jenny's getting harder and harder to deal with. We miss one phone call, and now she can't even be bothered to clean up the house. Her temper just keeps getting worse.

"Depression, somatization, whatever. I think she's faking all of it! Randy, we can't keep coddling her like this. Tomorrow, we're making her go out and get a job!"

Mom was still complaining when Nancy let go of her hand and ran to my room.

She pressed up against the door and called softly, "Jenny, please don't be upset. I brought you a big burger!"

When I didn't answer, Nancy turned around, looking hurt, tears clinging to her lashes. "Mom, why won't Jenny talk to me? Is she mad because you and Dad took me to the hospital? I'm sorry, Jenny. I didn't mean to. I just felt really sick."

She spoke through her tears.

Dad scooped Nancy into his arms. "This isn't your fault, Nancy. Jenny's just being petty."

He comforted her while Mom wiped away her tears. I was the only one who caught the brief flicker of triumph in Nancy's eyes. She knew she had won.

"Want to take a bath, Nancy?" Mom asked softly.

Nancy looked up at her. "But Jenny's burger is going to get cold if she doesn't eat it soon."

Dad's face hardened. He snatched the burger off the table and threw it in the trash.

"If she doesn't want it, fine! I'm sick of her pulling this every single day! I don't know how I ended up with a daughter like this. Nancy, go take a bath with your mom. Don't worry about Jenny."

Mom sighed. "She's having another episode. She must be feeling sick again. What did I do to deserve this?"

Nancy pulled a cute little keychain from her pocket. "But I want to give this to Jenny. Maybe it'll make her feel better."

Mom and Dad exchanged a look.

"Jenny's 25, but Nancy's only 5, and she's already more considerate than Jenny. Why can't Jenny ever think about what we're going through? Sometimes I can't help feeling like she's nothing but a burden."

Dad rubbed his shoulder and set the keychain on the table.

I reached for him, desperate to grab him by the shoulder and tell him that wasn't true.

I wasn't faking it. I really was sick. I really was hurting. Nancy had said those things on purpose.

But every time I reached for Dad, my fingers passed straight through him. He didn't feel a thing.

I stood in the living room, watching Dad head back to his room while Mom took Nancy to have a bath.

I drifted after Dad, still wanting to explain myself. But then I saw him looking through photos of the three of them.

There were pictures from the day they adopted Nancy from the orphanage, then photos from every birthday after that.

In each one, Nancy was dressed like a little princess, hugging the stuffed tiger Mom had sewn for her and smiling brightly at the camera.

There were family photos too, from Nancy's first day of kindergarten and her first field day, along with pictures of the three of them doing crafts together.

In every one, Nancy held that stuffed tiger while Mom and Dad stood on either side of her.

A dull ache spread through my chest, but then I thought about how Nancy had been there for them all these years. At least she had made things a little easier for them. That made it hurt a little less.

I went back to find the forgotten stuffed tiger.

Mom had sewn that one for me. When I was little, Mom and Dad would leave it beside my bed whenever they had to work late so I wouldn't feel alone.