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backpack off as an afterthought and let it hit the floor. Her
mom eyed it warily, like it might contain something deadly
like books that gave a person independent thought or perhaps a
coiled rattlesnake. They’d be equally as terrible in her mom’s
mind.
“How many times have we had this conversation?” Sandra
asked, sighing loudly.
She examined her perfectly manicured nails. As per usual,
they were done with the little white tips. Her mom believed
that painting one’s nails was hokey, but that little bit of white
paint on the tip was somehow perfectly acceptable. It was like
a metaphor for her family’s double standards.
Emily had come along as an afterthought. Her mom would
never admit as much, but Emily’s brothers were far older than
she was. Jason was thirty-four, Sam thirty-two. She’d felt that
way her whole life. Like an afterthought. Ignored. Her parents
had her life planned out for her since she was born, as though
that plotting could make up for the fact that she’d been an
unwelcome addition into an already established family.
All her life, Emily had gone along with what her parents
wanted. She read so many quotes that talked about living, not
just merely existing. She wanted to do that. She wanted to take
chances and be brave, but her parents were set to thwart it at
every turn.
Sandra feigned exhaustion, which was exactly what Emily
expected. Because yes, Emily was indeed the most exhausting
daughter and Sandra didn’t have time to deal with her being
difficult, since she already had a long list of exhausting
problems to deal with because being the wife of a man running
for senator was absolutely exhausting and she was utterly
