Chapter 2
Mom didn’t play the recording immediately.
That surprised everyone.
Grandma Diane seemed relieved.
She shouldn’t have been.
Mom turned toward the guests.
“Party’s over.”
Aunt Rochelle blinked.
“Claire—”
“Everybody out.”
Grandma stepped forward.
“You cannot throw people out because a child is upset.”
Mom finally looked at her.
“My child.”
Her voice was quiet.
“My house.”
Grandma stiffened.
“And my party.”
Mom pointed toward the front door.
“Out.”
Nobody argued after that.
Guests began collecting purses and jackets.
Some whispered apologies to me.
Others avoided my eyes completely.
I hated them almost as much as I hated Grandma in that moment.
They had watched.
They had known.
They had chosen comfort.
Lily stood beside me and held my hand.
Her tiara looked strange now.
Too bright.
Too perfect.
She pulled it off and put it on the table.
“I don’t want it.”
Grandma’s face changed.
“Lily, sweetheart—”
“Don’t call me that.”
I stared at my sister.
I had never heard her speak to Grandma that way.
Grandma looked hurt.
That almost made me laugh.
She had humiliated me in front of thirty people.
But Lily rejecting one pet name wounded her?
Mom waited until the last guest left.
Then she locked the door.
The room became painfully quiet.
Pink balloons floated above us.
The cake table was still perfect.
Two cakes sat there.
At least that part looked equal.
Then Mom walked to the couch.
“Sit.”
Grandma crossed her arms.
“I am your mother.”
“And I am asking you to sit down.”
Grandma sat.
Mom turned toward Lily.
“When did you start recording?”
Lily looked nervous.
“Before Grandma gave us the dresses.”
“Why?”
“Because she was being weird.”
Grandma scoffed.
Mom ignored her.
Lily continued.
“She kept saying I was her special girl.”
My stomach twisted.
“She says that all the time.”
Mom looked at me.
“What does she call you?”
I hesitated.
Grandma answered quickly.
“I love both girls.”
Mom didn’t look away from me.
“Maya?”
I whispered, “She calls me difficult.”
Mom’s face tightened.
“What else?”
“Sensitive.”
Lily added, “Dramatic.”
I looked down.
“Sometimes she calls me ungrateful.”
Grandma threw up her hands.
“All grandmothers discipline their grandchildren.”
Mom stared at her.
“Not like this.”
Then she pressed play.
Grandma’s voice came through the phone.
Clear.
Sharp.
“I told you already, Lily gets the princess dress.”
My own voice followed.
“But Mom bought two.”
“I don’t care what your mother bought.”
Mom’s eyes changed.
Grandma leaned forward.
“That recording is missing context.”
Mom lifted one finger.
“Quiet.”
The video continued.
Lily asked, “Why can’t Maya wear hers?”
Grandma answered.
“Because maybe she needs to learn she doesn’t always get what Lily gets.”
Then my voice.
“We’re twins.”
Grandma laughed.
“That doesn’t make you equal.”
I stopped breathing.
I had forgotten she said it exactly like that.
Mom froze.
Lily squeezed my hand.
The recording kept going.
Grandma’s voice became colder.
“Lily is cheerful. Polite. Easy to love.”
My chest hurt.
Then she said the words I had been trying not to remember.
“Maya always looks like she’s waiting for someone to disappoint her.”
Mom paused the recording.
For several seconds nobody spoke.
Grandma finally said, “You know Maya has always been more difficult.”
Mom stood.
“Get out.”
Grandma blinked.
“What?”
“Get your things.”
“Claire.”
“Now.”
Grandma laughed in disbelief.
“You’re throwing your own mother out over a childish argument?”
Mom walked closer.
“No.”
Her voice shook.
“I’m throwing you out because you told one of my daughters that she is easier to love than the other.”
Grandma’s mouth opened.
Mom didn’t stop.
“You lied to me.”
“I did not—”
“You hid Maya’s dress.”
Grandma looked away.
Mom stepped closer.
“Where is it?”
Grandma said nothing.
“Where is my daughter’s dress?”
Grandma pointed upstairs.
“Guest room closet.”
Mom stared at her.
“You planned this.”
Grandma sighed.
“I was trying to teach Maya humility.”
I laughed.
I couldn’t help it.
It came out broken and angry.
“Humility?”
Grandma turned toward me.
“See? That attitude.”
Mom snapped.
“Do not speak to her.”
Grandma looked stunned.
Mom had never talked to Grandma that way.
Usually she was patient.
Respectful.
Careful.
Not now.
Mom went upstairs.
She returned carrying a garment bag.
She opened it.
Inside was my dress.
Pink.
Sparkling.
Exactly like Lily’s.
I touched the sleeve.
My eyes filled again.
Grandma had hidden it twenty feet from where she humiliated me.
Mom looked at the tags.
Then at Grandma.
“This dress was never damaged.”
Grandma stayed silent.
Mom found something else in the closet.
Another gift bag.
Mine.
Still sealed.
Then another.
And another.
My presents.
Grandma had hidden those too.
Lily whispered, “Why?”
Grandma looked frustrated.
“Because Maya needed to stop expecting everything.”
Mom stared at her.
“On her birthday?”
“She has always been jealous of Lily.”
I looked up sharply.
“No, I haven’t.”
Grandma pointed at me.
“There! That defensiveness.”
Mom stepped between us.
“Stop diagnosing my child.”
Grandma’s face turned red.
“I raised you.”
“Yes.”
“And clearly you think that gives you permission to control my daughters.”
“I was helping.”
“You were dividing them.”
Grandma stood.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, I think I do.”
Something in her voice changed.
Grandma noticed.
So did I.
Mom stared at her for several seconds.
Then said, “You did this to me and Rachel.”
Grandma went pale.
I looked between them.
Rachel.
Mom’s older sister.
The aunt we almost never saw.
Grandma snapped, “Do not bring Rachel into this.”
Mom’s voice cracked.
“Why not?”
“Because this has nothing to do with her.”
“It has everything to do with her.”
Grandma grabbed her purse.
“I’m leaving.”
Mom nodded.
“Yes.”
Grandma walked toward the door.
Then she turned to Lily.
“Come give Grandma a hug.”
Lily stepped behind me.
“No.”
Grandma looked crushed.
Then she looked at me.
The sadness disappeared.
Blame replaced it.
“This is exactly what you wanted.”
My heart stopped.
Mom moved so fast Grandma stepped backward.
“Do not put this on Maya.”
Grandma glared at her.
“You’ll regret turning those girls against me.”
Mom opened the door.
“You did that yourself.”
Grandma left.
Mom locked the door.
Then she leaned against it.
Her shoulders shook.
I had never seen my mother look so broken.
I walked toward her.
“Mom?”
She covered her face.
“I’m sorry.”
I hugged her.
Lily joined us.
Mom knelt and pulled both of us against her.
“I’m so sorry.”
I whispered, “You didn’t know.”
She looked at me.
“I should have.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Then Mom glanced toward the phone.
The recording was still open.
She looked at the screen.
“There’s more.”
Lily nodded slowly.
“A lot more.”
Mom swallowed.
“What else did she say?”
Lily looked terrified.
“She talked to Aunt Rochelle before the party.”
Mom’s face changed.
“What did they talk about?”
Lily hesitated.
“About you.”
Mom became very still.
“And?”
Lily handed her the phone.
“I think Grandma knew you were coming home early.”
The room went silent.
Mom pressed play.
Grandma’s voice came through the speaker.
“If Claire walks in before I’m finished, everything gets ruined.”
Aunt Rochelle answered.
“Then you better make sure she doesn’t find out what you did with the girls’ money.”
Mom’s face drained of color.
I looked at her.
“What money?”
May you like
She didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t know.
