Chapter 2

It was the third month after Claire moved in that I first noticed the favoritism.

I overheard my parents arguing.

Mom cried, "My heart aches for Claire. She lost her parents so young. At least Julia still has us."

Dad sighed, "But you can't be so biased. Julia is our own daughter."

"So what if she's our own daughter? Claire is my niece, so I have to take care of her.

"Julia will have us for her whole life. What does Claire have?"

From that day on, I got it. In this family, Claire was the fragile porcelain everyone tiptoed around, while I was the iron bowl that would never be broken.

Porcelain had to be handled with gentle hands, polished and protected.

The iron bowl could be tossed around, and nobody would blink even if it was dropped to the ground.

Back in elementary school, Claire wanted my Barbie doll. It was a reward from my grandpa for getting first place in the class.

I refused to hand it over, but Mom said, "You're the younger one. You need to respect who's older."

But Claire was barely two months older than me.

In middle school, Claire said she liked my bike, the one I'd saved up for ages to buy.

I said no, but Mom handed the keys straight to Claire. "You can ride Claire's old bike."

That old bike didn't even have a bell, and the brakes barely worked. I'd wiped out on it more times than I could count.

When it came time to choose colleges, I wanted to head to the capital, but Claire wanted to stay close to home.

Mom said, "I can't let Claire stay here alone. You should stay, too."

All my choices always had to make way for Claire.

Once I started working, I thought I could finally escape.

I rented an apartment on the east side of the city and avoided going home whenever I could.

But every week, Mom would call and say, "I cooked your favorite ribs today. Come home for dinner."

When I got there, Claire's plate was stacked with ribs.

All I got was yesterday's leftover veggies.

"Julia is on a diet, so she shouldn't eat too much meat," Mom said.

I wasn't on a diet. I just wasn't important.

*****

As I dragged my suitcase out the door, Mom chased after me. "Are you really leaving?"

"Or what?" I replied.

"You're seriously doing this over a card?" Mom said, sounding completely stunned. "Julia, Claire is your cousin. Her parents are gone. If we don't take care of her, who will?"

I finally turned to face her. "Mom, I'm your own daughter."

She was stunned.

"I need to be cared for, too. I need to be loved," I said, meeting her gaze, word by word. "But all these years, you only care about Claire."

"That's not true..." Mom protested.

I cut her off. "When I had a high fever, you were at Claire's show with her.

"On the day of my SATs, you stayed home to give her a massage because she was nervous.

"When I was hospitalized for a bleeding ulcer in my first year at work, you said Claire was heartbroken and you couldn't leave her."

I took a deep breath. "And now, you gave away the money I spent five years saving to her as a wedding gift.

"Mom, I'm human, too. I hurt."

Mom's lips moved, but she stayed silent.

I said, "I'll get the money from that card back through legal action."

I pulled the door open. "As for this home, I'm not coming back anymore."

"Julia!" Mom shouted after me. "If you walk out that door today, don't you ever come back!"

I didn't pause.

As the elevator doors closed, I heard Claire's voice, shaky with tears, coming from inside. "Aunt Ella, it's all my fault. I'll give the card back to Julia."

Mom comforted her softly, "You've done nothing wrong. Julia is just being difficult."

It was always like this. I was always the one to blame. I was always the one who was difficult.

Eric paused in surprise when he saw me standing at the door of my rented apartment, dragging my suitcase. "Julia? Weren't you going home for dinner today?"

"I got kicked out," I said, forcing a bitter smile.

He grabbed my suitcase and pulled me inside. "Let's not go back and take their crap anymore."

Eric had been my boyfriend for three years now.

He was a programmer. A solid, dependable guy.

I told Eric the whole story, just the basics.

He listened quietly, and then hugged me tight. "I'll help you get the money back."

"How?" I let out a bitter laugh. "I gave the card to my mom myself, and I told her the password. She could easily say I meant it as a gift. Besides, Claire is about to get married."

"Let's go to court," Eric said firmly. "I know a great lawyer who can help us."

I gripped his hand in return. "Okay."