Chapter 1

My sister's birthday and mine are four days apart.

For as long as I can remember, Mom bought a cake on my sister's birthday.

On mine, there was only a bowl of plain broth noodles.

Mom said, "Just think of it as sharing your sister's birthday."

"And these broth noodles are made just for you. Your sister doesn't even get any."

From then on, my birthday was always just a bowl of broth noodles.

Until my senior year, when I earned early admission to Harvard.

I didn't tell my parents. I quietly went and sold my hair to keep the money for travel.

The four hundred dollars I got I hid under my pillow.

But the next day, the money was gone, and there was a fancy cake sitting on the table.

Mom gave me a cold look and said, "Your sister's coming home tonight for her birthday. That money you saved is perfect for buying her a cake."

I said stiffly, "Mom, that money was for my train ticket."

Her face went dark all at once. "So you've grown a spine, huh? Barely turned eighteen and already running off with some man?"

"You're planning to ditch your own family?"

Looking at her twisted face, I said in my heart: Yes, I really don't want it anymore...

...

Since I said nothing, Mom took my silence as guilt admitting it.

She raised her hand and slapped me, cursing, "How did I ever give birth to something as shameless as you?"

She put her whole strength into that slap. The sharp pain sent black spots swimming across my vision.

I held my cheek and, fighting the sting behind my nose, asked her, "Mom, why do you assume I bought a ticket to run off with a man?"

She gave me an "as if it could be anything else" look, like I really was that kind of person.

She jabbed hard at my forehead and said, "After your SATs, you go get a job at a local electronics plant."

"I raised you all these years. You'll earn some money for me first, for a few years, and then you can think about men."

Mom never cared about my studies.

All because my sister once pulled out a math test I'd scored an eighty on, and the whole family decided I was a bad student.

But that had been an old exam from the top national math competition. Our teacher had a few of us contest students try it.

I came first, forty points ahead of second place.

I explained it. They didn't believe me.

From then on, Mom was certain I'd never scrape by with more than a high school diploma.

She'd even worked out my "future" for me long ago.

I opened my mouth, and in the end I didn't tell her about the early admission.

She wouldn't believe me anyway.

And anyway... I wasn't planning to come back.

That four hundred dollars could stand for the cut.

I hoped that later, every time she thought of the cake she'd bought with it, she'd remember the things she said today.

I hoped that when the time came, she wouldn't regret it.

I turned and went back to my room.

Mom, still not satisfied with my attitude, banged things around and cursed, "What's with the face?"

"You expecting me to fork out money to send you to some community college?"

"You know what kind of family we are, don't you? Where's the spare cash for you to waste?"

My hand paused on the door. Looking at my mother's furious face, I only felt how absurd it all was.

For as long as I could remember, Mom said we weren't well off.

Yet my sister always wore designer clothes and went to a private international school.

She'd studied painting and dance since she was little, tens of thousands a year.

Two years ago, she got into a private arts college.

Tuition alone was thirty thousand a year.

Her monthly allowance was four thousand.

And this was the family with no money?

I shut the door and stopped looking at my mother.

I had to think of another way to get travel money, fast. Not long after, I heard the front door open.

I cracked my door open and saw my sister bounce in.

My father was right behind her.

Mom's voice was full of delight. "Elwin Gilbert, weren't you away on business? How'd you come back together with Kate Gilbert?"

My sister spoke loudly, as if afraid I wouldn't hear. "Dad said it was my birthday, that he'd get back no matter what."

"So I had him pick me up at the train station."

Dad looked at her, his eyes full of tenderness. "My precious girl's birthday. Of course I couldn't miss it."

In that moment, the three of them, happy together, drove into my heart like a dull blade.

Then my father suddenly asked, "Where's Kayla Gilbert?"