Chapter 3

The day of the awards ceremony, I was wide awake by six.

David was still fast asleep. I crept out of bed and stood on the balcony for a while. The sky was just beginning to pale, and the city hadn't quite stirred to life yet.

My phone buzzed. It was my mother. "It's the memorial today. You're really not coming?" Her tone was ice-cold.

"Mom, I told you. I have the awards ceremony today," I said.

"You're skipping Sophie's twentieth anniversary," she said. "How can you live with yourself?"

I gripped the phone and met with a few seconds of silence. "Mom," I said, "I've worked ten years for this award."

"So what if it's been ten years? You only have one sister," she snapped.

I closed my eyes.

"If Sophie were still alive, she'd be at the cemetery with me." My mother's voice cracked. "Not like you, you're always thinking about yourself."

"I went with you last year," I said. "And the year before that. And the year before that."

"And what about this year?" she shot back.

"This year, I have my own life to lead."

The line went dead silent for a moment.

"Claire." My mother's voice shifted, turning hard as stone. "You're just jealous of Sophie. She's been dead for years, and you're still trying to one-up her."

Jealous. That word cut me to the quick. When had I ever tried to compete with her?

Her tuition was paid in full; I had to take out student loans. Her allowance was 150 dollars a month; I didn't get a dime.

When she was sick, the whole world revolved around her, while I walked to and from school alone, day in and day out.

After she passed, not a single one of my report cards, award certificates, or promotion notices ever earned me a pat on the back.

What was I competing with? How could I even compete? How do you compete with a headstone?

"Mom." I took a deep breath. "I'm not missing this ceremony. Go ahead to the cemetery without me."

"You—" she began.

"I'm hanging up now." I hit the button, my hands trembling slightly.

David had woken up at some point; he was standing in the doorway of the balcony, watching me. "You okay?" he asked.

I shook my head, then nodded. "Let's go," I said. "It's time to get ready."

*****

The ceremony was held at the Grand Theater downtown.

I wore a navy blue gown with my hair swept up and light makeup. I looked good in the mirror, composed and professional.

As David drove me there, he asked, "Was that your mother on the phone?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"What did she say?" he asked.

"She wanted me to go to the cemetery," I said, staring out the window. "She said I was jealous of Sophie."

David didn't say a word, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

*****

A crowd had already gathered at the theater entrance. There were industry veterans, colleagues, media, and even some architecture students.

When I stepped out of the car, people recognized me and came over to offer their congratulations.

"Ms. Linwood, congratulations!"

"A well-deserved win."

"Linwood Group Design has really been on a roll these last few years."

I handled each interaction with a poised smile, but my eyes were constantly scanning the crowd.

Nothing. Neither my father nor my mother had shown up. I'd known all along they wouldn't come, yet I still... held onto a sliver of hope.

The ceremony began. I sat in the front row, listening as the host read the winners. When my name was called, the room erupted in applause.

I walked onto the stage, accepted the trophy, and stood under the spotlight.

The audience was a sea of people, all watching me and cheering. But my parents weren't among them. My parents were busy dusting off a headstone.

"I'd like to thank the committee for this honor," I spoke into the microphone. "I want to thank my team and my husband..."

I paused, my throat tightening. "Thank you to everyone who supported me."

Another round of applause followed.

As I walked off stage, David met me and gave me a hug. "You were amazing," he whispered in my ear. I leaned against his shoulder and didn't say a word.

*****

When we got home that night, I checked my phone for any word from my parents.

Nothing. Not even a single congratulatory text.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking back to when I was a kid. Sophie was still around then. I'd ranked first in the whole school and raced home, bursting with excitement. "Mom, I got first place!"

My mother was busy taking medicine for Sophie and didn't even look up. "I heard you."

"Mom, it's first place!" I repeated.

"If Sophie were healthy, she would have done better than you," she said.

I was stunned. That was the first time I realized that in this house, I would always come second. Not because I wasn't good enough, but because I was the one who was still alive.

The living could never compete with the dead.

Late that night, I opened my laptop and typed in a name, Helen's daughter, Sophie's old high school classmate. If memory served, she was now working at a local hospital. I found her contact info and saved it.

I wanted to know if Sophie's high school years were really as perfect as my parents made them out to be.