Chapter 2

That evening, Mom ordered takeout to celebrate the move.

The coffee table disappeared beneath boxes of grilled fish, fried chicken, shrimp, and mango pastries.

Every dish was something Sophie loved.

Ryan placed the crispiest chicken wing in her bowl.

Ethan sat beside her and carefully removed every bone from the grilled fish before sliding the plate toward her.

“Try it now,” he said. “You won’t choke.”

Sophie smiled at him.

“You remembered.”

“Of course I did.”

Those three words struck harder than they should have.

He remembered that Sophie hated fish bones. He remembered which curtains she liked, which collectibles she owned, and which colors she wanted for her room.

No one remembered that I could not eat mango, disliked sweet sauces, or felt sick whenever I ate grilled fish.

I finished the rice slowly, waiting for someone to look at my empty plate.

No one did.

When dinner was nearly over, I went into the kitchen and found a package of noodles in the cabinet.

I had barely opened the package when Mom followed me.

“What are you doing?”

“Making noodles.”

Her eyebrows drew together.

“There is an entire table of food in the living room.”

“I don’t like any of it.”

Mom glanced toward the living room, immediately worried that Sophie might hear.

“So you’re cooking a separate meal during her welcome dinner? How do you think that will make her feel?”

“This isn’t about Sophie. I’m hungry.”

“There is plenty of food.”

“Not anything I can eat.”

Mom’s face tightened.

“Everything does not have to revolve around you, Nora. Sophie finally has a room of her own, and we are trying to make tonight special for her. Must you find some way to spoil it?”

I looked at her.

I was sleeping beside a mop bucket while Sophie celebrated in the best bedroom in the house, and my boyfriend had spent the day building her furniture.

Yet somehow, wanting a bowl of noodles made me the selfish one.

Mom folded her arms.

“If Sophie sees you refusing all the food she likes, she’ll think you resent her.”

I reached over and turned off the burner.

Sophie appeared at the kitchen entrance.

“Nora, don’t you like the food? Next time, I can ask your mom to order something you want.”

Before I could answer, Ryan waved a hand dismissively.

“Don’t bother. She can turn anything into a problem.”

Ethan looked up from the shrimp he was peeling for Sophie.

For one second, our eyes met.

I waited for him to defend me.

He knew I had eaten nothing and that I liked spicy food.

All he had to say was that I was hungry.

Instead, he gave a faint, helpless smile, as though my behavior were mildly embarrassing, and lowered his head to continue peeling the shrimp.

That smile hurt more than Ryan’s accusation.

Ryan was angry with me.

Mom believed I was selfish.

But Ethan did not even think I was worth being angry at.

I returned to the storage closet and locked the door.

My stomach ached, but there was nothing inside the room to eat, and I no longer had the strength to go back out.

I lay on the yoga mat with my knees bent because there was not enough space to stretch my legs.

Through the wall, I heard Sophie laugh.

A moment later, Ethan laughed too.

I opened the research contract again.

The terms were written clearly.

Ten-year appointment.

Employees could not leave the facility without authorization or contact anyone outside.

My adviser had personally recommended me because my research papers and data-modeling work made me the strongest candidate in the department.

I had never told my family.

When one of my papers was accepted by a major academic journal, Mom interrupted me to ask whether Sophie needed a ride to art class.

When I received the highest research award in my graduating class, Dad congratulated me without looking away from the television, and Ethan sent a thumbs-up emoji.

In this house, my work, my ambitions, and every hour I had spent building a future had always been treated like background noise.

August 13.

Ten days until I left the windowless closet, the family that had erased me, and the man who had made me feel unreasonable for wanting to be loved by my own boyfriend.