My mother's breathing caught. When she spoke, her voice was strained with impatience. "Your dad and I are both home. Whatever it is, we can talk about it when you get back."I scoffed, but I hurried home anyway.When I was in the cab, I couldn't help thinking about my previous life.Whenever I got sick, my mother would only say over the phone, "I'm busy. You're old enough to take care of yourself."Yet, my mother could journey through the night whenever Cecilia said she felt sick. She would drive from out of town just to hold her and murmur, "You poor thing. You've been through so much."When I ranked first in my grade, I remembered how I had excitedly placed my report card on the table.My father barely gave it a glance before saying, "Oh." Then, he would immediately turn to put food in Cecilia's bowl. A drop of grease had landed on my report card, as if to prove how little it was worth to him.Eventually, I stopped telling them anything.My certificates piled up in the bottom
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