« Is that for dinner? » I asked, already smiling because apple pie was my favorite thing Mom still occasionally baked.
Mom shifted the dish against her hip and avoided my eyes.
« It’s for Luke. There’s soup waiting on the stove. »
Something inside me cracked.
« Why does he get dessert when we can’t even have decent food?! »
Mom’s face was engulfed in such a fury, I stopped crying.
After that, I hated him with the focus only a child can manage.
« Never say that about Luke again. Never make me hear it. »
She left with the pie, and I stood alone in our kitchen, ashamed, furious, and certain Luke had replaced me.
After that, I hated him with the focus only a child can manage.
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