Chapter 2

Dad picked up the camera Mom gave him and opened the gallery. It was full of photos of Mom with Matthew and his daughter, Nora Hunt.

I saw it clearly. The day my brother Brian Dawson died, Mom had been at an amusement park with them, riding the Ferris wheel.

When Dad spiraled into depression and nearly bled out after hurting himself, Mom had been watching fireworks with them.

My chest tightened, and I started crying.

So she did have time. She just never gave it to Dad.

Dad's whole body trembled as he pulled me into his arms, his voice rough but steady. "Alicia, your mom's dead. Right?"

I nodded quickly.

Something in him seemed to settle. He raised the camera and hurled it against the wall, where it shattered on impact.

I knew his heart had broken the same way.

That night, just before I fell asleep, I heard him on the phone.

"I'll take the photography position in Dalecrest. I'll be there in a week."

Half-asleep, I thought of who Dad used to be: a world-renowned photographer. Whenever he released a new piece, wealthy collectors and celebrities would bid outrageous amounts for it.

He gave it all up for Mom and stayed in Lowridge, working a dead-end job that paid barely enough to get by while enduring constant humiliation.

A small smile tugged at my lips.

In seven days, Dad would have his life back.

-

Only five days left.

Right after school, I heard loud banging coming from the apartment. When I walked in, Mom, who hadn't been home for two days, was packing the trophies Dad and I had won into shipping boxes.

The princess dresses and limited-edition dolls Dad had saved up to buy for me were tossed in as well, like they meant nothing.

My head felt light as I looked toward Dad. His face was cold, his hands clenched so tightly that they trembled.

"Lauren, what's wrong with you? You've been gone two days without even checking on Alicia, and the second you come back, you're packing up her things for them?"

Mom didn't seem bothered. She picked up a trophy and turned it over in her hands with a faint smile.

"I don't want to do this either, but if you hadn't shown off Alicia’s achievements online, Matthew and Nora wouldn't have gotten upset. Alicia has plenty. What's wrong with letting a motherless kid have some of it?"

Dad let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, his eyes reddening with disappointment.

"I've never shown off. That’s your bias talking. Alicia and I worked for those trophies. While you're busy comforting someone else's husband and kid, did you ever think about your own daughter?"

I stood there, stunned. I couldn't remember when Mom had become like this.

There was a time when if Dad and I wanted cannoli, even if no one in the city made them, Mom would fly across the country to learn how.

Now, she was giving our things to someone else.

Dad took a slow breath, as though he had finally seen her for who she was. He picked up his phone and sent a message to the reporter who had invited us for an interview.

"We’ll take the father-daughter interview. Tomorrow at seven. Apartment 302, Lakeview Apartments."

"What are you doing?" Mom snatched the phone from his hand.

Dad tilted his head slightly and looked down at her, his gaze steady and cold.

"If they want the trophies, they'll have to earn them. If they can handle the interview, they can have them."

Mom pressed her lips tight, then gave a short, bitter laugh. "Do you really have to take it this far? What happened to you?"

She forced herself to calm down and told the workers to carry out the last box. Before leaving, she glanced at Dad, confusion and disappointment filling her eyes.

"You used to be reasonable. You never made things difficult for anyone. Anyway, I'll return everything after I'm done with it. Cancel the interview."

I stared at the floor, my chest tight.

Used to? Like she hadn’t changed herself.

"You're not leaving. Give Alicia's things back…"

"Dad," I cut in. I turned to Mom and shook my head. "I don't want them anymore. You can give them away."

Something lit up in her eyes. She smiled and patted my head. "That's my good girl!"

After she left, I looked around the empty room, took ten dollars from my piggy bank, and reached for Dad's hand.

His eyes were still red as I led him downstairs to the neighbor's door.

"I'll give you ten dollars. Can you be my mom for one night? It's my dad's birthday today."