Not when Tessa missed my graduation. Not when my parents used money meant for me to fund her engagement party. Not when I drove myself to urgent care with an infection because my mother was helping her shop.
Every family has patterns.
Ours was carved deep.
My father took the phone. “Call a taxi, Maren. Don’t turn this into a scene.”
A scene.
I hung up quietly.
Not out of anger—but because I knew if I stayed on the line, I would cry.
So I called a taxi.
The driver asked if I was okay.
I said yes.
Continue on the next page:
