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who we really are. We live fake lives with fake friends with
fake everything. We’re one of those token families who is
totally miserable. My brothers are both doctors and they hate
it. You’re an artist, but you only paint the things you think
people want to put on their walls, not things that mean
anything. I’ve seen the work you did when you were in your
twenties. It was amazing. Now it’s just soulless. Kind of like
this house and everything in it.”
“Emily Radcliffe, you will not say things like that about me
or your father or the life we’ve given you!”
“The double name twice in one conversation. Jesus. I must
really have hit on a sore spot.” Emily didn’t honestly have a
cruel bone in her. She was way too nice, and people had used
that against her more times than she cared to think about, but
at the moment, she wasn’t going to be swayed by the tears
glistening in her mom’s eyes. She wasn’t going to moderate
her language or take back what she said, even if it was biting
and bordered on petulant. It was still true.
Her mom blinked back tears. She swiped at her eyes and
when she removed her hands, her expression was thunderous.
“We’ve all worked very hard and made sacrifices. Your
brothers love what they do. They both wanted to be doctors.
Don’t put that on me or tell me that I forced them to pursue
that path. The only thing your dad and I did was pay for their
school. We’ve paid for yours too, so don’t throw it in my face
now. The agreement was that you’d be allowed to get your
degree in whatever you wanted, and you chose art. We weren’t
surprised. I am proud of your talent and your ability, but let me
tell you, it’s harder than you think out there and I want you to
have a stable job with a stable income. We want you to be able
