They Filled Her Suitcase And Emptied My Place In The Family Chapter 02

They Filled Her Suitcase And Emptied My Place In The Family Chapter 02

The car stopped at the villa. Marcus and Ethan carried load after load inside. Shopping bags filled the living room.

“Lily, try on these shoes—see if they rub.” Mom crouched to help her into a pair of limitededition sneakers.

Lily took a few steps, spun around happily. “Thanks, Mom! They’re perfect.”

I picked up my faded backpack and headed for the stairs.

“Vera, stop,” Mom called. I paused. She pointed at the empty cardboard boxes on the floor. “Take those out. And wash Lily’s old clothes—by hand.”

“Okay.” I nodded and bent down to gather the boxes.

Ethan came out of the kitchen with a glass of warm water. He saw me crouched on the floor and frowned. “Mrs. Grant, Vera’s tired today. Let the clothes wait until tomorrow.”

Mom snorted. “Tired? She spent the whole day walking behind us with empty hands.”

Ethan sighed and walked over. He pulled a small pink fan from his pocket. “Your room doesn’t have AC, right? This will work in the dorm too.”

I looked at the fan—its box crushed flat, a computer brand logo printed on the side. That was his compensation: the freebie that came with Lily’s twentythousanddollar laptop.

“Thanks,” I said. I didn’t take it. “I’m not afraid of the heat.”

Ethan’s hand froze. Annoyance flickered in his eyes. “Vera, it’s just a desk lamp. Are you really going to hold a grudge this long?”

“I’m not holding a grudge.” I folded the boxes and stood up. “I just don’t need it.”

“You used to be so reasonable. What happened to you?” His voice dropped, edged with warning.

Reasonable. That word had been my cage for over a decade.

When I was seven, my grandmother brought me from a small farm town in Indiana to the city. Because my paperwork was two years late, Lily and I ended up in the same grade. Ethan had taken my hand then, pointed at Lily, and said, “Vera, you protect your little sister, and I’ll protect you.”

Later, protecting Lily meant giving up my parents’ attention, giving up new clothes, giving up my room. And eventually, giving him up too.

I looked at his familiar face and found it suddenly strange. “I’m still reasonable,” I said, walking past him with the boxes.

He stood there, expression darkening.

After taking out the trash, I went back to my room—the storage closet under the stairs. I pulled my suitcase from under the bed, folded a few old clothes, and put them inside.

At the bottom, pressed flat, was a train ticket.

Destination: Boston.

My phone buzzed. I took a breath and answered.

“Vera, have you eaten?” My grandmother’s voice came through, thick with her Indiana accent.

My eyes stung. “I have, Grandma.” I tried to keep my voice steady.

“I went to town today and put two thousand in your account.” Her voice dropped. “It’s from selling eggs. You need new clothes for college. Don’t let those city kids look down on you.”

Tears hit the back of my hand without warning. In this house, two thousand wouldn’t even buy one of Lily’s desk lamps. But it was my grandmother’s living expenses for half a year.

“Grandma, I got a scholarship and free tuition. I don’t need money.” I covered my mouth to keep from choking.

“Take it,” she insisted. “A poor home, a rich road. You did so well on your exams. If your parents won’t spoil you, your grandma will.”

I bit my lip hard. “Okay.”

“Vera, once you go to the big city, don’t look back. Don’t be like your grandma, rotting in this mud forever.”

“I won’t, Grandma.”

After hanging up, I took out the ticket and pressed it flat inside my diary.

Outside, Lily’s piano playing drifted in, with Ethan humming along.

I closed the diary and pushed the suitcase back under the bed.

Just a few more days.