The night graduation ended, my sister was allowed to run wild. She spent the evening at a downtown karaoke lounge, celebrating with Austin, the boy next door who had always been her shadow. I, on the other hand, was forced to accompany my parents on their nightly post-dinner walk. My mother kept her eyes glued to her phone, scrolling through the text messages my sister was sending. "Lexie just sent over her 'Fresh Start' bucket list," my mother said, a soft, indulgent smile playing on her lips. "A new laptop for twelve hundred, a weekend trip with her friends for fifteen hundred, some new clothes for eight hundred… it all adds up to nearly four thousand dollars." My father leaned in to glance at the screen, nodding in agreement. "Well, she worked hard to graduate. She deserves to let loose. We should give her the money." I watched them talk with such effortless warmth, the contrast of my own reality stinging like a fresh cut. I swallowed the lump in my throat and spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper. "What about the fifty dollars I asked for? To dye my hair?" My father didn't even look at me. He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "What do you need to dye your hair for? Your natural brown is perfectly fine." My mother chimed in, her tone smooth and entirely logical in her own mind. "Exactly. Besides, didn't you save up some money from your tutoring job? You should transfer that to your sister. It’ll help cover the rest of her list." It was always like this. Growing up, Lexie was the fragile princess who needed to be shielded and spoiled. My role was to step back, to yield, to make myself small so she could take up more space. It was treated as a given. But now, they wanted the meager savings I had earned through hours of exhausting work just so Lexie could throw it away on a whim. My hand slid into my jacket pocket, my fingertips brushing against the crisp edges of a lottery ticket. It was worth twelve million dollars. In that quiet moment, the last lingering hope I had for this family withered and died. "Okay," I said quietly. "I'll transfer it to her." It would be the last cent they ever got from me. … I pulled out my phone and Venmoed five hundred dollars to my mother. She tapped open the notification, her brow instantly furrowing into a deep, irritated line. "Bess, why is it only five hundred?" My father stopped walking, turning to look at me with heavy disappointment. "Didn't you make over three thousand dollars tutoring those high school kids over the last few months?" "You don't even go out," my mother added, her voice sharp with accusation. "What do you need all that money for anyway? Just give it to your sister so she can check off her list." My fingers curled into fists inside my pockets. They had calculated my earnings down to the very dollar. Three thousand—exactly what was left to cover Lexie’s demands. I forced down the dryness in my throat and spoke with a calm I didn't feel. "I spent it on my hospital bills." The air between us went dead silent. My mother blinked, glancing at my father in genuine confusion. "When were you in the hospital?" My father’s scowl deepened as he searched his memory, coming up empty. He let out a harsh sigh. "Look, if you don't want to give her the money, just say so. There’s no need to make up a lie like that." A bitter, hollow laugh threatened to escape my chest. Two weeks ago, I had been curled up on my bedroom floor, crying from the agonizing pain of acute gastroenteritis. I had called them, desperate. But my mother had cut me off, saying Lexie's favorite band was in town and the tickets were almost sold out. They were too busy waiting in an online queue to listen to me. They told me to find some Advil and hang up. I had ended up taking an Uber to the ER by myself, spent two days on an IV drip, and discharged myself without a single call or text from either of them. And now, they thought I was a liar. I looked down at the pavement, refusing to drag up old grievances that would only fall on deaf ears. "It's gone. I spent it." My mother sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Even if you spent some of it, you couldn't have only five hundred left. I don't know what's gotten into you, Bess. You've become so selfish. You can't even support your own sister's little dream?" My father patted her shoulder, steering her forward. "Forget it, Helen. If she’s going to be like this, let her be. We'll find another way to get Lexie what she needs. We aren't letting her suffer." Their words felt like dull blades scraping against my heart. I touched the lottery ticket in my pocket again. I had bought it on a whim while walking to the pharmacy to pick up my post-hospital medication. Originally, I had allowed myself a brief, foolish daydream: if I won, I would buy a big house with a yard for the family. How incredibly naive I had been. I walked behind them in silence, a ghost trailing in their wake. When we got back to the house, I went straight to my room, sat on the edge of my bed, and booked a one-way train ticket out of the state. The destination was Monterey, California. A coastal town far enough away that they would never find me. A little while later, the front door burst open. Lexie’s bright, musical laughter echoed through the hallway. "Austin, seriously, tonight was the absolute best!" Austin's warm, protective voice followed. "As long as you're happy, Lex. You worked so hard studying for finals. You deserved a night like this." I opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hall, catching Austin's eye. The moment he saw me, the easy warmth on his face cooled. "Bess, why didn't you come to the lounge?" he asked, his tone laced with a familiar, patronizing judgment. "Everyone was celebrating. You always lock yourself away like this. Your world is going to get smaller and smaller if you keep shutting people out. Do you plan on just relying on your sister's social circle forever?" Lexie turned around, her face softening into an expression of sweet, sisterly concern. She rushed over, wrapping her arm tightly around mine. "Oh, Bess, it was so much fun. Everyone kept asking where you were! We ordered those loaded nachos you like, and the fruit platters. I felt so bad that you weren't there." She looked up at me with those wide, innocent eyes. If everyone had really been asking for me, why hadn't a single person texted? Why hadn't they waited for me? And why had our parents forbidden me from going in the first place, claiming they needed me to help them clean the garage before our walk? I gently but firmly pulled my arm out of her grip. "I was tired." Lexie’s face instantly crumpled into pity. She turned to our mother, who was just coming out of the kitchen. "Mom, Bess must be so exhausted from helping around the house lately. Tomorrow when we go get my new laptop, we should buy Bess a nice mouse." Austin looked at Lexie, his eyes practically shining with admiration for her sweet, selfless nature. But to me, it was a joke. I didn't even own a computer. What would I do with a mouse? My mother smiled warmly at Lexie. "You're such a good sister, always thinking of Bess. But we might have to hold off on the extra purchases. Your sister only chipped in five hundred dollars for your bucket list. Your father and I are going to have to scramble to cover the rest." Lexie gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she looked at me, her eyes filling with tears. "Bess, are you mad at me? If you don't want me to have these things, it’s okay. I can get a cheaper laptop. And we don't have to go on the trip. I don't want to make you unhappy." Austin stepped forward, placing a protective hand on Lexie’s shoulder while glaring at me. "Bess, what is your problem? I know you like to save every penny, but Lexie is your sister. She just graduated. Is it really worth ruining her moment over a few hundred bucks?" I looked at Austin. This was the boy who, when we were twelve, had promised he would always protect me. I wondered when exactly he had changed. When had he decided that Lexie was the only one allowed to have feelings, while I was just a cold, stubborn obstacle? He never asked for my side of the story. He just assumed I was the villain. "I don't have the money," I said, looking him dead in the eye. Austin let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "You literally never buy anything for yourself. Where could your money possibly go? Whatever. Lexie, don't worry about it. I'll cover the difference. Just don't beg her." Lexie’s tears vanished instantly. She beamed, grabbing Austin's sleeve and tugging on it. "Austin, you're the absolute best!" My father walked into the room and nodded approvingly at Austin. "You're a good kid, Austin. We're glad Lexie has someone like you looking out for her." The four of them stood in the center of the living room, framed by the warm light, looking every bit like a perfect, happy family. No one asked me why I was tired. No one cared about the dark circles under my eyes or the lingering pain in my stomach. I turned around, walked back into my room, and shut the door. I pulled my old duffel bag out from under the bed. I didn't have many belongings—eighteen years in this house, and everything I owned barely filled a single bag. I had spent my entire life walking on eggshells, trying to be the perfect, low-maintenance daughter, hoping that one day they would love me as much as they loved Lexie. But some people are simply incapable of loving you. And no amount of quiet compliance will ever change that. The next morning, the house was a whirlwind of excitement. My parents were taking Lexie to the mall to buy her laptop and clothes, and Austin was, of course, driving them. My mother knocked on my door, telling me to get ready because "the whole family should go together." I knew better. They didn't want my company; they wanted a pack mule. And indeed, within an hour of arriving at the outdoor shopping center, my hands were weighed down with heavy paper bags. My body, still recovering from the severe stomach infection, was trembling. Cold sweat beaded along my hairline, and my vision blurred slightly. I looked down at my fingers, raw and red where the heavy paper handles were cutting into my skin, then looked up. A few feet away, Austin was holding a cup of iced coffee, holding the straw to Lexie's lips so she could take a sip without dropping the shoes she was looking at. Lexie trotted over to me, holding up two pairs of heels. "Bess, which ones do you think look better with my graduation dress?" My stomach cramped violently. I took a shallow breath, forcing myself to look at the shoes. "The white ones on the left." Lexie puckered her lips, shaking her head with a look of dissatisfaction. "I don't know… I feel like the white makes my legs look washed out." Austin strolled over, barely glancing at the shoes. "The rhinestone ones on the right are much better. They've got style, just like you." Lexie beamed, instantly discarding the ones I had chosen. "You're right! Your taste is always so much better." Austin turned his gaze to me, his voice carrying that familiar, lecturing tone. "Bess, you really need to work on your eye for style. You should try putting some effort into how you look. It's no wonder you always look so drained. Girls are supposed to be bright and lively. People like that more." I didn't have the energy to argue. When I had tried to wear makeup or dress up in the past, they had accused me of being vain and distracted from my studies, telling me I should learn to be simple and pure like Lexie. Now that I wore plain clothes and no makeup, I was "lifeless." "Bess, wait a second," Lexie said, holding up a delicate lace dress. "The zipper on this is stuck. The clerk said it's the last one in my size, and I really don't want to return it." My mother walked over, immediately grabbing my arm and pulling me forward. "Oh, Bess has the defter hands. Fix this for your sister, honey." I looked at the zipper. It was caught deep in the fine, fragile lace. One wrong move, and the entire fabric would tear. "I can't do it," I said, handing it back. "The lace is too thin. I'm afraid I'll ruin it." The warm smile on my mother’s face vanished, replaced by an instant scowl. "Bess, she’s just asking for a tiny favor. Why do you always have to be so difficult? You sew patches on other people's clothes all the time. Why can't you do this for your sister?" My father joined them, his forehead creased with deep irritation. "What is wrong with you lately? You've been walking around with a cloud over your head for days. Are you seriously throwing a tantrum because we're buying things for Lexie and not you?" Lexie quickly grabbed our mother's arm, her voice sweet and conciliatory. "Mom, don't yell at Bess. She’s probably just in a bad mood. I can take it to a tailor downtown. It's fine." Austin patted Lexie's head, his eyes soft with affection. "I'll take you to the tailor. Don't worry about people who don't care." He didn't look at me as he spoke, but the words were clearly meant for me. I carried their bags back to the car, feeling like an unpaid servant. Once we got back to the house, while they were gathered in the living room planning Lexie’s trip, I slipped out under the guise of running an errand. I took the train downtown to the state lottery commission office. Two hours later, I walked out. The paper ticket was gone, replaced by a receipt confirming that twelve million dollars—after taxes—was being deposited into my newly opened, private bank account. I took a deep, steady breath. The air in my lungs felt lighter than it had in years. This was my ticket out. This was my life, finally starting. My departure date grew closer. My duffel bag was packed and tucked away in the back of my closet. I spent my final evening sitting on the edge of my bed, watching the sun set over the rooftops of the neighborhood I would soon leave behind. Suddenly, the quiet was shattered by a loud clattering out in the hall. My bedroom door was flung open without a knock. My mother marched in, her eyes scanning the room before locking onto the small, hard-shell suitcase sitting in the corner of my closet. "Lexie has too many bags, and her small carry-on won't fit everything," my mother said, not even looking at me as she reached for the suitcase. "We're taking this one. You're not going anywhere anyway, so you don't need it." I stood up quickly, placing my hand firmly on the handle. "That’s my suitcase. I bought it with my own money, and I have things inside it." My mother yanked at the handle, but I didn't let go. Her face darkened. "What do you mean you need it? You aren't traveling. It's just sitting here gathering dust. Your sister actually has a trip to go on." With a harsh, impatient tug, she ripped the zipper open and flipped the suitcase upside down. My neatly folded clothes, along with a small, framed photo of my childhood—the only one where I was smiling—tumbled onto the floor, scattering across the dusty carpet. My mother didn't even blink. She immediately grabbed a pile of Lexie's new, brightly colored clothes and began stuffing them into the empty case. I stood frozen, staring at my scattered belongings on the floor. My throat felt tight, restricted by a sudden, choking wave of grief. Lexie appeared in the doorway, her expression a perfect mix of embarrassment and concern. "Oh, Bess, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were using it. I can leave some of my jackets behind. I know it'll be cold in the mountains, but I can manage. Please don't be mad at Mom." Austin stood right behind her. "Bess, seriously? Are you still throwing a fit over a stupid suitcase? Lexie’s flight is tomorrow. Do you have to ruin everything for her? Do you enjoy making her miserable?" From the living room, my father's voice boomed. "What's taking so long in there? Get packed! We have to leave for the airport early tomorrow!" Everyone was running around for Lexie. Everyone was pointing fingers at me. I looked at Lexie's innocent face, at Austin’s cold disgust, and at my mother’s utter indifference. The last thread of attachment I had to this house snapped. "Fine," I whispered, my voice flat. "Take it." My mother let out a small, victorious grunt, zipped the suitcase, and walked past me without a word. Lexie murmured a soft, "Thanks, Bess," before slipping away with Austin. I closed my door, locked it, and knelt on the floor. I picked up my dusty clothes and shoved them into a canvas duffel bag. I reached into my pocket, feeling the cold plastic of my ID and my new bank card. While they were all gathered in Lexie’s room, laughing and talking about her flight, I picked up my bag and quietly opened the front door. I didn't look back. Behind me, in the kitchen, my mother was slicing a plate of fresh fruit. "Bess!" she called out, her voice carrying that familiar, demanding edge. "Bring this fruit plate in to your sister's room!" The hallway remained dead silent. There was no reply.
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