Chapter 3

3: 3

I spent the whole night on my sister's account.

By the time I got to the delivery depot the next morning, the shadows under my eyes were too dark to hide.

Alison startled at the sight of me.

I waved it off.

“Didn't sleep well.”

Alison let out a breath and pulled a small cake out from behind her back.

“From Clint Chavez, Alison's husband, and me. We all chipped in.”

“It's a tradition here at the depot. When it's your birthday, you get cake.”

A little pink cake with a single cherry on top.

The first birthday cake of my life.

When I just stood there, Alison pressed her lips together.

“You don't like it? I guess it's not real whipped cream, and you young girls might not want that kind. It's fine, we cooked you a birthday bowl of noodles too, we can just forget about the cake...”

She was tripping over her words.

But I threw my arms around her.

“No, Alison. It's not that.”

“I just never thought anyone would remember my birthday.”

Only then did Alison smile.

“It's on your file. We saw it, so we remembered.”

I wiped at my eyes.

The truth was, even I had forgotten my own birthday.

When we were little, my sister and I wanted to have birthdays like other kids did.

But our mother said it took a whole year of washing dishes to earn one birthday cake.

My sister and I backed down.

And over time, neither of us brought up birthdays again.

Just then my phone buzzed with a notification.

My sister's post popped up.

“The best 18th.”

So many girls, so many gifts.

She sat right in the center, several cakes in front of her, an enormous bouquet behind her.

Her eyes were closed, making a wish.

The photo was a live one, and when it played, our mother's voice came through in the background, crystal clear.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart. Mommy will always love you.”

I remembered how my sister once said she wanted a coming-of-age party with lots of friends there, lots of gifts and flowers.

She wanted to be the only princess that day.

Back then I'd laughed and flicked her forehead.

“Keep dreaming. We don't even have our college tuition figured out yet.”

She'd given me a look then, one with something behind it.

“Maybe. You never know.”

I couldn't read what was in her eyes back then.

But now I understood.

It was pity. It was mockery. It was scorn.

I covered my mouth and laughed.

Just laughed, and then, all at once, the tears came down in big drops.

Alison scrambled to wipe them away.

“It's just a little surprise, it's nothing. Don't cry.”

“I've just figured a few things out.”

“Alison, can I borrow the depot computer for a minute?”

I didn't call my mother to have it out with her.

But she called me, like she had a guilty conscience.

“It's your birthday today.”

“Mm.”

“You can afford it now. You could buy yourself a little cake.”

I was quiet for a long time before I answered.

“Did my sister have cake?”

My mother didn't hesitate.

“No.”

“Okay.”

I did a lot of things that birthday.

I ate the cake Alison gave me.

I went home for the household record and moved my residency out.

I went to every place I worked and quit.

By the time all of that was done, it wasn't even six in the evening.

I drifted through the town square.

The square was lively at night.

I'd only ever passed through it a few times on deliveries.

My eyes settled on a family of three, laughing and roughhousing.

I stood there watching them for a long while.

Until a voice broke it.

“Angie?”

I turned toward it, and something like panic flashed across my sister's face.

She quickly let go of the arm she'd been holding, our mother's.

She was still wearing a princess dress.

I understood then. Calling out to me had been a slip.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

My sister stammered for a long moment.

It was our mother who covered for her.

“She took a side gig. Modeling.”

I nodded.

“What are you doing here?”

“I quit my jobs.”

My voice was perfectly calm.

Like I was telling them something completely ordinary.

“What?”

They demanded it at the same time, both of them loud.

“Mm. I quit.”

“All of them?”

“Yes. All of them.”

The next second, a hand came at me hard and fast.

A burning sting spread across my cheek.

People passing through the square stopped to look.

I held my face and looked up into my mother's eyes, full of fury.

“Angela Finch, you think you're all grown up now?”