Chapter 1

My younger sister Iris Norris was getting engaged, and the whole family drove to her fiancé's hometown for the engagement party.

There was a traffic jam on the highway, so everyone got out to stretch their legs.

As soon as the road cleared, my father hit the gas and sped off, not even closing the door properly.

I chased after them for a few hundred yards until one of my shoes fell off and my feet were bleeding.

Cars zoomed by all around, but no one dared to stop. I stood on the shoulder like an idiot.

My phone was still charging on the car seat, and I was only wearing a thin shirt, shivering in the wind.

I finally made it to a service area on foot, and I huddled on a bench in the lobby for the entire night.

I only survived because a kind cleaning lady gave me a sandwich.

When I finally borrowed a phone and called, my mother's impatient roar came through the line before I could even speak.

She said, "Where the hell have you been? The whole family is here waiting for you.

"Are you hiding on purpose to ruin Iris's big day?"

In the background, I could hear Iris's whining voice complaining that I had no sense of propriety and was making her look bad.

My hand holding the receiver had turned purple from the cold. The last bit of warmth in my heart died completely.

They hadn't even noticed I was gone. They thought I was throwing a tantrum somewhere.

*****

I hung up the phone, and the cleaning lady looked at me with pity.

"Do you want to make another call, miss?" she asked.

I shook my head and gave the phone back to her.

It felt like something inside me snapped.

Meanwhile, they arrived at Iris's fiancé's place and were happily getting ready for the party.

No one had glanced at the back seat. No one had noticed my seat was empty.

If they had turned around once, they would have seen I was missing.

But they didn't.

To them, I was like that worn-out cushion tossed in the backseat.

It didn't matter if I was there or not. They probably felt the car was less crowded without me around.

I borrowed 15 dollars from the cleaning lady and wrote down her PayPal account so I could pay her back later.

I hitched a ride with a delivery truck back to the city.

When I opened the front door, the house was a mess.

Iris had rummaged through my entire closet looking for clothes.

Several of my shirts were on the floor, covered in high heel prints.

She had tried them on to match her new dress and thrown them on the ground when she didn't like them.

I stepped over the clothes, expressionless.

Before, I would have picked them up, washed and ironed them, and put the cosmetics back in place.

But today, I walked right over them.

The popped blisters and scabs stuck to my socks. The soles of my feet throbbed with pain.

I grabbed my suitcase and started packing.

I gathered up my important documents, the house deed, my bankbook, and my few pieces of valuable jewelry.

This house was under my name. I paid the down payment, and the mortgage was all on me.

But my parents always said family shouldn't keep accounts. They said it was only right for Iris to live here.

They even gave her the master bedroom to make her more comfortable.

They made me sleep in the 60-square-foot storage room.

My spare phone, which was charging on the counter, buzzed.

It was my mom.

I answered and put it on speakerphone. I slipped my ID into the suitcase pocket.

"Erin! So you think you're all grown up now, huh? How dare you hang up on me," she snapped.

Her roar echoed through the empty room.

She continued, "The whole family's been waiting for you. Iris's in-laws have asked about you over and over.

"How do you think that makes us look?"

I stuffed the last coat into the suitcase and zipped it up.

"I'm home," I said.

There was a pause on the other end. Then an even louder explosion of anger.

My mom said, "At home? We're at the engagement party, and you came back home? Who told you you could come back?"

"You left me on the highway. What else was I supposed to do? Die there?" I shot back.

My voice was so calm it even caught me off guard.

There was an eerie silence on the phone for a few seconds.

Then my dad jumped in, sounding all annoyed and like he was totally in the right.

He said, "Seriously, what's the problem? You've got legs, right? Ever heard of calling a cab?

"Stop playing the victim. Just get over here and stop holding up the dinner party."

I hung up the phone and blocked her number.

I also blocked Iris and my dad's numbers.

I called a moving company and had all my packed things stored in a warehouse.

Then I checked into a chain hotel.

When I cleaned the wound on my foot, the hydrogen peroxide stung so bad I flinched.

Tears almost came to my eyes, but I didn't cry.

What was the point of crying? I had cried for twenty years. All I got was a car speeding away on the highway.

They came back the next afternoon.