They had used my money to take the trip without me.
I leaned against my desk and asked, very quietly, “What does that mean?”
My father gave the dry sigh he used whenever he thought I was overreacting to something he had already decided. “Rachel, you’re always working. It would have been awkward with your schedule. The kids wanted just immediate family.”
Immediate family.
Meaning my siblings, their spouses, their children, and my parents.
Meaning the daughter who paid still didn’t count.
My mother cut in with that false-soft tone she always used when the truth looked bad in daylight. “Don’t make this bigger than it is.”
That was the exact moment something inside me went cold.
Not broken.
Cold.
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