You Don't Get It Back Once Give It Up

The moment I asked the question, every head in the office turned toward me.

For the first time that afternoon, my sister Celeste Whitmore's serene expression cracked.

She turned slowly.

"Maren, do you understand what you're saying?"

Of course I did.

My name was Maren Whitmore.

I ranked second overall.

If the first-place candidate formally withdrew, the published rules allowed the agency to move to the next qualified person.

Director Bennett looked up from behind his desk. His gaze was steady behind his glasses.

"You're Maren Whitmore?"

"Yes."

"Second-ranked candidate for the same position?"

"Yes."

He flipped through the file in front of him.

"Procedurally, once the first-ranked candidate clearly withdraws and signs the confirmation, the hiring agency may begin a replacement review based on the existing ranking."

My father, Graham Whitmore, stood up immediately.

"Director Bennett, she's young. She doesn't understand what she's saying. Celeste is upset right now. She doesn't actually want to give this up."

Celeste lowered her eyes.

"Dad, don't make things difficult for them."

She was always like this.

Soft voice. Perfect posture.

As if the entire world were pressuring her while she alone endured it with grace.

Director Bennett looked at her with visible disapproval.

"Ms. Whitmore, based on your written exam and interview scores, you met the standards for this appointment. I am going to confirm this one more time.

"Are you refusing to provide the supplemental background materials, knowing that your refusal will be recorded as a voluntary withdrawal?"

Celeste lifted her chin.

"I understand.

"My family has served in public life for three generations. We have nothing to hide. Being asked to open up our family relationships to this level of scrutiny is insulting.

"I don't accept an investigation with no boundaries.

"If getting a federal appointment requires me to surrender my dignity, I'd rather walk away."

Aunt Lydia, who had come along with the family, immediately got misty-eyed.

"Celeste has always had principles."

Dad nodded too.

"The Whitmore family doesn't need this government job that badly."

Then the floating comments appeared again.

[Doesn't need it? Her dad said at dinner last night that once Celeste got to the capital, the family would finally have real prestige.]

[The review team warned her three times. Once she signs, that's it. Adults are responsible for what they say.]

[Maren, don't back down. You're not stealing anything. She's performing indifference.]

My heart was pounding.

My hands were steady.

Celeste suddenly looked at me.

"Maren, do you really want it that badly?"

She paused just long enough for everyone in the room to hear her next words.

"You'd even take an opportunity your sister didn't want?"

It was a small sentence.

Not deep enough to draw blood, but still sharp enough to hurt.

I had heard versions of it my whole life.

The dresses Celeste no longer wanted could go to me.

The piano lessons Celeste got bored with could be canceled.

The family events Celeste disliked could become my responsibility.

But this wasn't a hand-me-down dress.

It wasn't a plate of leftovers.

I had earned my ranking myself.

I met her eyes.

"You don't want it. That's your choice.

"I do want it. That's mine."

The office went silent.

Dad's expression darkened.

"Maren, don't make a spectacle of yourself."

I almost laughed.

"Dad, I asked what the rule was. How is that making a spectacle?"

Celeste's eyes welled up.

She picked up the pen and signed the withdrawal confirmation.

She signed slowly, one letter at a time, as if she had been deeply wronged.

When she finished, she set the pen down with exaggerated care.

"I won't regret this."

Director Bennett took the form.

"All right. We will proceed according to policy."

Then he looked at me.

"Maren, today you only asked about eligibility. This does not mean you have been hired.

"If the replacement process is formally opened, you will still have to complete the full background and suitability review."

I nodded.

"I'll cooperate."

As we left the office, Celeste passed beside me.

Her voice was barely louder than a sigh.

"Maren, you've become very calculating."

I stopped.

"Celeste.

"I've always been practical.

"I just never used to get a turn."

For one brief second, her expression broke completely.