They Chose My Foster Sister, I Built My Own Life

The day the Grand Fellowship results came out, Adrian and I were on the train from Cape Cod back to Boston. Sophie sat in the cramped two-seat row beside us.

Three years earlier, Adrian had promised that once we finished the program, he would take me to Cape Cod for two nights, just the two of us, to make up for everything we'd missed. Those three years were filled with deadlines, pattern revisions, and all-nighters. Anniversaries and birthdays got squeezed out. He said he'd make it up to me when the program ended.

For that trip, I'd booked a place by the water and a sunset sail, and I'd hired a photographer who shot on film. The day before we left, Adrian showed up at my door wheeling Sophie's suitcase and talking as though this had always been the plan.

"Sophie's under a lot of pressure from the job search, and she's in a bad place. Let's bring her along. The more, the merrier."

I pushed the disappointment down and stepped aside to let them in.

On the first day, Sophie got a last-minute invitation to meet a New York buyer. She held her phone, looking torn. "I know the sail is today, but this buyer is only in Providence for a few hours..."

Adrian didn't hesitate. "Of course you should go. Opportunities like that don't come around often." He turned to me. "Elena, we can go sailing another time. Skipping it this once won't matter."

I canceled our waterfront dinner, rescheduled the photographer, and went to Providence with them. I fixed Sophie's collar, touched up her makeup, adjusted her posture, and went through two full rolls of film photographing her and Adrian.

A cold wind blew off the water outside the converted warehouse where the buyer worked. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder. Adrian raised an arm to shield Sophie from the wind, and she laughed with her head down. They looked as though they had been made for each other.

The photographer couldn't help asking me, "Excuse me, don't you want a photo with your boyfriend?"

Before I could answer, Adrian took off his jacket and draped it over Sophie's shoulders. "Finish hers first. She's sending out applications tomorrow."

I swallowed the words "never mind."

On the train ride back, Sophie and Adrian sat together, talking and laughing in low voices. I sat alone across the aisle. The aisle was narrow, but it might as well have been a canyon.

At ten that night, the final decision emails arrived right on schedule.

Sophie cried out first, her eyes lighting up. "I got it! Staff designer at the New York headquarters!"

She thrust her phone at Adrian. He laughed, high-fived her, and said, "I got a position in New York, too. We can look out for each other." They went straight into planning: Brooklyn or Queens, which subway line would be best for commuting, and how close they'd be to the fabric market. All of it their future in New York.

My phone buzzed, too. The winner's email.

At the same time, the family group chat kept buzzing.

[Sophie is incredible! New York at last!]

[Adrian got a job in New York, too. The two of them can look after each other now!]

My parents, Adrian's family, and various relatives were all in that chat. I wasn't. My mother had created a new group a few months earlier and said she would add me later, but she never mentioned it again.

Adrian went to the café car for coffee and came back with two cups. He handed Sophie a vanilla cold brew with oat milk. "No sugar. I remembered you were cutting back on sugar."

Sophie's whole face lit up. "You actually remembered."

The other was a black coffee with no warmth left in it. He set it in front of me. "I don't know what you drink these days. I just grabbed one."

For two years, my go-to drink had been a hazelnut latte. Adrian was the one who'd gotten me into the habit. Now he remembered everything Sophie liked but had forgotten my usual order.

I didn't take it. "I'll get my own."

His hand froze in midair, and he frowned. "What exactly have you been sulking about these past two days?"

"Am I sulking?"

"You wanted this trip more than anything, but you've had an attitude the entire time."

It was absurd. Three years ago, he'd been the one to promise he'd make it up to me, and now I was being accused of refusing to let it go. Sophie immediately stepped in to smooth things over. "Don't blame Elena. Her results probably weren't what she'd hoped for, and she's upset." She turned to me, her voice gentle enough to draw blood. "It's all right. Missing the first round doesn't mean anything. You have a solid foundation. Apply again next year, and you'll get it."

Adrian jumped right in. "I've put you in touch with a studio in Boston about an assistant position. Work there for a year, then apply for the award again next year."

I watched how smoothly the two of them worked together. Not once did anyone ask, "Elena, what did you get?"

I looked down and opened the email again. The white words on the black screen hurt to look at.

[Congratulations, Elena Hart.]

[You have been selected as this year's sole Grand Fellowship winner.]

A hundred and fifty thousand dollars in grant money. Eighteen months in San Francisco. Exclusive press coverage and the best connections in the industry. This was the dream I'd chased for three years. The second I read the email, I wanted to stand up and throw my arms around whoever was next to me, just so I could share it with someone.

Instead, I turned off the screen and tucked the news away where no one could see it.

The coastline slid backward past the window. I was done proving myself and done asking why I was never the one they chose. For the first time, I was certain: I don't have to go to their city. I don't have to keep being compared and pushed aside.