got a blender one year and a gas card another.
Last year, Mom gave me a candle she had pulled from the hallway closet.
“You understand,” she told me. “Kayla needs more encouragement.”
I had spent my entire adult life understanding.
That night, something in me finally stopped.
While everyone applauded Kayla, I transferred every remaining dollar from the emergency account into a new personal account only I could access.
Then every phone around the table buzzed.
Mom checked hers first.
Her smile disappeared.
Dad’s phone rang seconds later.
Now
