Chapter 1

I had always known I was the unwanted daughter—the one my family considered a waste of money.

Mom sent me $500. That was supposed to keep me alive for an entire semester. Five months.

Then she turned around and happily sent my “delicate” little sister $400, just for a dress.

Her excuse was always the same. “You’re older. You need to put your sister first!”

For twenty years, I wore my younger sister’s castoffs and paid for college with student loans and part-time jobs.

Every sacrifice I made was taken for granted.

When I begged for $160 in travel expenses for a competition that could change my future, all I got was ridicule. “We don’t have money! Figure it out yourself!”

Something inside me died that day.

I worked every job I could get, pushed myself to the breaking point, and finally won the competition. It earned me a way into a top company.

I thought that might earn me a little recognition. Instead, Mom said:

“How much does the internship pay? Buy your sister a makeup set.”

That finally opened my eyes. I was done being their doormat.

“Emily, I sent your living allowance for the semester.”

My mother, Linda Carter, jabbed at her screen several times before finally completing the transfer.

She shoved the phone in front of my face.

A cold, unfeeling number stared back at me: $500.

That was my living allowance for the entire semester.

In a city where prices kept climbing, $500 meant counting every cent of every meal.

Before I could say, “Thanks, Mom,” my sister, Chloe, slipped her arm through Mom’s. Her voice was sickeningly sweet.

“Mom! Remember that $360 dress I told you about yesterday? You promised you’d give me the money today!”

Mom’s face instantly lit up, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

“Of course! Anything for my girl! I’ll send you four hundred right now!”

“My beautiful girl looks good in anything!”

She lowered her head to use her phone. Somehow, she managed it much more smoothly this time.

I stared at the $500 on my screen and felt as though my heart couldn’t get any air.

Chloe was two years younger than me. She had just started her freshman year at an expensive, low-ranked private arts college.

She wore designer sneakers.

I wore faded jeans and a T-shirt that had been washed so many times I could barely tell what color it used to be.

This was my family.

My father, Robert Carter, hauled bricks and cement at construction sites.

Mom cleaned offices for a living.

We rented a place on the outskirts of the city, in a noisy, run-down neighborhood.

Yet this family poured every ounce of love and every dollar it could spare into its youngest daughter.

Dad crouched on the concrete outside the door, smoking the cheapest cigarettes he could find. His eyes moved between Mom and me, but in the end, he said nothing.

He had the least say of anyone in this family.

The moment Mom raised her voice, he went silent.

“What are you looking at, Emily?” Chloe noticed me watching and lifted her chin.

“Jealous? Too bad. Mom says girls need to be spoiled so they won’t fall for the first guy who buys them something nice.”

“Someone like you will probably end up with a guy who’s just as broke as you are.”

Mom immediately backed her up.

“Your sister’s right! Chloe’s been delicate since she was little. She’s not sturdy like you. If we don’t take extra care of her, who will?”

“You’re older. Put your sister first and stop being so selfish!”

I had been hearing that for twenty years.

When we were little, Chloe could pour out milk she didn’t finish. But if I wanted an extra glass, Mom would snap,

“All you ever think about is eating! That milk is for your sister. She needs it!”

Chloe’s clothes filled the closet. I wore whatever she no longer wanted.

Her grades were terrible, and she barely got into a low-ranked college. Mom said,

“What good does all that education do a girl anyway?”

“Our Chloe is going to marry a rich man. Studying art will give her some class!”

I got into a top university and paid my way with student loans and holiday jobs. All they said was,

“Even a blind squirrel finds a nut. You just got lucky. Find yourself a steady job someday and stop getting big ideas.”

I tightened my grip on my phone. The record of that $500 transfer seemed to burn against my palm.

I took a deep breath and tried to keep my voice steady.

“Mom, there’s a national competition in my field next month. Winning could help me get into grad school or find a job.” “I’d have to travel out of town. It would cost about a hundred and sixty dollars.”

Chloe scoffed first, her voice dripping with contempt.

“Oh, here we go again! Is coming up with new ways to ask for money all you know how to do?”

“If we have that kind of money lying around, we should buy me a new lipstick instead!”

Mom’s face darkened at once.

“A competition? Will a competition put food on the table? Don’t you know what things are like around here?”

“How much do you think your father makes, working himself to death all day?”

“I’m up before dawn scrubbing floors, and by the time I get home, I can barely straighten my back!”

“We’ve already done more than enough letting you go to college! Now you want to travel for some competition?”

“We don’t have the money! Figure it out yourself!”

Figure it out myself?

I had been doing that since the summer I graduated from high school.

I had burned myself with hot oil while waiting tables and been too afraid to complain. I had been chased away by security while handing out flyers. I had spent two hours on buses to get to and from tutoring jobs.

The money I worked so hard to earn went toward living expenses. Every so often, Chloe would “borrow” some, too. She never paid me back.

Outside the door, Dad lit another cigarette and glanced at me.

“Emily’s just trying to get ahead,” he muttered, so quietly I could barely hear him.

Mom exploded and turned on him.

“Robert Carter! Shut your mouth! Who asked you?”

“Well? How much money do you make? If I didn’t stretch every dollar, we’d all be starving!”

“You want to play the good guy? Fine! You pay for your precious daughter’s competition! Can you afford it?”

Dad immediately wilted. He lowered his head almost between his knees until all I could see was his hair and the drifting smoke.

Watching him, I felt the last flicker of hope I had for this family go out.

These were my family members.

Without looking at them again, I went into my room and closed the door. Outside, I could still hear Chloe wheedling and Mom answering her fondly.