Chapter 1

After graduating from high school, my twin sister, Ella, and I were both accepted to Newland University.

My parents put eighty thousand dollars in Ella's college fund and gave her a three-thousand-dollar monthly allowance, but put only eight thousand in mine and gave me three hundred a month. They took it for granted that I would move to Newland to look after her.

The day the whole family threw a graduation party for my sister, I boarded a flight to the West Coast with a single suitcase and a full scholarship to one of the country's top engineering schools.

What they didn't know was that the reporter who showed up that afternoon to interview "the outstanding Ashford graduate" had never been looking for my sister. The person they wanted was me, the daughter they'd already pushed out the door.

Chapter 1

Three days after graduation, I stumbled across a post my mother, Laura Ashford, had put up in a local parents' Facebook group.

"Both my twin daughters are heading to Newland University. What's the fair way to split their allowances?"

The comments were nearly unanimous.

"Obviously give them the same amount. Both kids are leaving home for the first time. Fairness is simple math."

I was about to scroll past when I spotted my brother Derek Ashford's profile picture beside the latest reply.

"People who don't know the full picture shouldn't be lecturing about fairness."

"The older one is quiet and awkward. She doesn't wear makeup, socialize, or go to parties. Three hundred a month will be more than enough once she moves into a shared apartment. The younger one is outgoing and pretty. She needs clothes, a social life, and rideshares. She needs at least three thousand a month."

"Besides, the older one already knows how to cook. They'll both be at Newland, so she can look after her sister on the side. Mom and Dad will save on meal costs too."

Downstairs, I heard Derek and his childhood friend, Shane Bennett, laughing.

"Three hundred is already a lot," Derek said. "Nora won't even buy herself a coffee. Give her money and it just sits in the account."

Shane chimed in with a laugh. "She can't survive without the family. Even in college, she'll just follow us around."

They said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I gripped the mouse. My fingertips went cold, one degree at a time.

So every coffee I skipped wasn't me saving money. It was proof I only deserved three hundred.

So learning to cook wasn't a skill. It was a free service they'd lined up for Ella long ago.

I stared at the screen.

We lived in the suburbs of Newland.

Newland University sat in the heart of the East Coast's busiest district, hemmed in by financial firms, theaters, and high-rises.

Ella and I had both received acceptance letters from Newland University.

The two letters arrived on the same day.

When my father, Michael Ashford, opened Ella's, he scooped her up and spun her around. Mom immediately snapped a photo and posted it in every family group chat.

When it was my turn, Derek barely glanced at the letter.

"Not bad. You'll be right there with your sister. You two can look out for each other."

Mom was busy ordering a celebration cake and didn't even look up.

"Your sister's so bubbly. She's bound to run into sketchy people in a big city. Nora, keep an eye on her. Don't let anyone take advantage of her."

My acceptance letter ended up pinned under the cake catalog, only a corner with my name peeking out.

That night, the cake had only Ella's name on it.

So the whole family assumed that come fall, we would move into that two-bedroom apartment together and I would cook for Ella, do her laundry, and clean up after her parties.

They didn't know I had received another acceptance letter, from a school twenty-seven hundred miles away.

Lakecrest Institute of Technology was on the West Coast, in the coastal city of Lakecrest. It was one of the hardest engineering schools to get into in the country.

Lakecrest Tech hadn't just accepted me. They'd covered four years of tuition, housing, and a research stipend.

At the bottom of the acceptance page were two buttons.

"Decline Admission."

"Confirm Enrollment."

I clicked the second one.

When the confirmation email appeared, for the first time I wasn't thinking about what I needed to do to win their approval.

I just wanted to see whether they could still act this entitled when they found out I wasn't going to Newland University and wasn't going to be Ella's unpaid nanny anymore.

...

"Nora, come out here."

Mom knocked twice and pushed the door open without waiting for an answer.

The living room was piled with department store bags. Ella sat on the carpet, sorting through graduation presents.

"I ordered Ella the latest laptop and a designer bag." Mom smiled at her. "And Dad's sending you on a graduation trip to Europe. How does that sound?"

Ella threw her arms around her.

"You're the best mom in the whole world!"

Dad tossed the car keys to Derek.

"We're going to Bay Park tonight. Ella wants to ride the Ferris wheel by the water. Everyone go change."

My heart gave a small jump.

"Am I going too?"

Everyone turned to look at me at the same time, as if they'd only just remembered someone else was in the room.

Mom recovered quickly with a smile.

"Of course. Today is about both you and Ella."

Then she pushed a battered old laptop across the table to me.

"This is Ella's old one. She replaced it last year. You need one for college too, right? Wipe it down and it'll be fine."

A sticker Ella had only half peeled off was still stuck to the back.

I reached out and touched the crack on the casing.

That promise that the day was about both of us suddenly felt like a single drop of water falling into an empty glass. One small ring, and then silence.

I went to my room and changed into the pale-yellow dress Shane had given me the year before, then dabbed on a little lip gloss.

Maybe they just weren't good at showing it.

Maybe this time, they really did mean to include me.

Ten minutes later, I opened my door.

The living room and the garage were both empty.

Derek's five-passenger SUV was gone.

Dad, Mom, Derek, Ella, and Shane. Five people exactly.

My name had never been on the seating chart.

I called Mom.

In the background, music played on the car radio beneath Ella's laughter.

"You already left?"

"You're still home? You never came out of your room, so we figured you didn't want to go again." Mom sounded puzzled. "The sunset Ferris wheel has a reservation time. Why don't you just get here on your own?"

Getting from our house to Bay Park meant two bus transfers and almost two hours each way.

"Nobody told me what time we were leaving."

A beat of silence on the other end.

Mom's voice turned impatient.

"Nora, you're eighteen years old. You can't wait for someone to arrange everything for you. Just look it up on a map."

Ella called out in the background. "Mom, we're going to be late for our dinner reservation!"

"Fine, just order takeout," Mom said. "Use your own card. You're an adult now."

The line went dead.

I stood in the foyer and looked at myself in the mirror, all dressed up, then suddenly laughed.

The lip gloss was bright. The skirt was pressed without a single wrinkle.

I'd even fully charged my phone in case they needed someone to take the group photos.

Mine were the only shoes left by the door.

When I was little and we played hide-and-seek, they'd left me counting in the basement while the four of them drove off for ice cream.

Back then, I waited until dark, convinced that if I was obedient enough, they would always come back for me.

Now, I was done waiting.

Chapter 2

I wiped off the lip gloss and folded the pale-yellow dress neatly, tucking it into the deepest corner of the closet.

The doorbell rang half an hour later.

Shane stood outside, holding two bakery boxes.

"You really didn't go?" He raised an eyebrow. "Your mom said you changed your mind at the last minute."

So in their version of events, no one needed to save me a seat. I was the one being difficult.

Shane pushed one of the boxes into my hands.

"Brought you a cupcake. Don't say I never think of you."

Under the clear lid, the frosting was covered in crushed peanuts.

I'm severely allergic to peanuts.

Three years ago, when we'd first met, Shane would check every ingredient label line by line before buying snacks. He'd even saved the location of my EpiPen in his phone.

Then Ella developed a thing for peanut butter, and he gradually forgot.

"I can't eat this."

Shane was already looking down at his phone, texting Ella.

"Picky again? Just scrape the peanuts off."

"Allergens aren't toppings. They don't scrape off."

He finally looked up. A flash of embarrassment crossed his face.

"Sorry, I forgot. You've always been so low-maintenance. When did you get so sensitive?"

Low-maintenance. Quiet. Easy to placate.

Those were their favorite labels for me.

That way, every time they forgot, it was somehow my fault.

Before I turned seven, my brother used to carry me on his back too.

Once I scraped my knee, and he ran all the way home. His white jersey was streaked with my blood.

Mom used to cut apples into two identical little rabbits, one for me and one for Ella.

I remembered all of it.

That was why, every time there was only one rabbit left, I kept believing the next one would be mine.

When Ella was seven, she had an asthma attack. Mom, Dad, and Derek stayed in the emergency room all night.

From that point on, everyone decided she was fragile and needed protecting, while I was healthy, quiet, and could handle everything on my own.

If she missed the school bus, I had to wait with her for the next one.

If she lost her homework, the teacher called and Mom's first question was why I hadn't checked Ella's backpack.

When I was thirteen, I ran a fever of 104 degrees and called an ambulance by myself.

The first thing Mom said when she got to the hospital was, "Ella has a piano competition tomorrow. Do you know how hard she's worked for it? Why did you have to get sick today?"

I lay in the ER watching Mom call Ella's piano teacher. By the time the IV needle drew blood, she still hadn't reached over to feel my forehead.

Shane sat on the couch, still trying to convince me.

"Things will be better once you're at Newland. Derek works in the city, and I'll be around too. You and Ella will share a place. You won't be lonely."

"Who said I'm going to Newland?"

"Where else would you go?" He laughed. "You didn't even go to your own graduation party. You're so antisocial, there's no way you'd survive alone in a strange city."

I didn't answer.

I opened my laptop and confirmed my housing, flight, and on-campus research assistant position at Lakecrest Tech.

The scholarship covered tuition and housing. The research stipend would cover daily expenses.

I didn't need my parents to co-sign a loan. I didn't need them to log into my college account.

Under federal student privacy law, once I turned eighteen, the school couldn't share my information with my parents without my consent.

A welcome message popped up on the screen.

"Welcome to Lakecrest, Nora."

I tossed the peanut butter cupcake in the trash.

Then I formally declined my admission to Newland University.

Chapter 3

At nine that night, the house was loud again.

Ella burst through the door with a designer shopping bag.

"Nora, look at the graduation dress Dad got me!"

Everyone behind her was carrying something. Only Mom handed me a canvas tote.

The bag was printed with a department store logo, a freebie given with purchases over a certain amount.

"You're always lugging books around. This will come in handy," Mom said.

Dad patted my shoulder approvingly.

"That's our Nora. You don't care about brands, and you don't need us wasting money."

I turned the canvas bag inside out. A receipt was still stuffed at the bottom.

The designer bag: twenty-four hundred dollars. The freebie line read zero.

I folded the receipt and slipped it back in. The word "why" stuck in my throat and wouldn't come out.

Ella looked at me and put on a worried expression.

"Nora, are you upset because of my presents?"

She knew perfectly well Mom and Dad were in the dining room, yet she deliberately raised her voice.

"How about I give you all my clothes? Mom and Dad already put eighty thousand dollars in my 529 account, and Derek promised to cover my twenty-thousand-dollar apartment deposit. I have everything I need."

The dining room went silent.

It was the first time I'd heard those numbers.

Mom walked out. The smile was gone.

"That's because Ella needs a social life in Newland, and she has medical expenses. Your life is simple. Less money is enough."

"How much is in my 529 account?"

Dad frowned, as if I'd asked something shameful.

"A little over eight thousand. You've never been into activities, and you don't have extra expenses."

Ten times as much.

I stared at the new bag at Ella's feet.

Its price tag was almost equal to everything they'd saved for me in eighteen years.

Mom was still talking about how I didn't like to spend money.

I opened my hands and realized my nails had dug into my palms.

Derek crossed his arms.

"You got into Newland. The family's already supported you for eighteen years. Plenty of students in this country take out loans on their own. Don't act like you've suffered some massive injustice."

"I'm not asking for your money."

"Then what's with the attitude?"

Ella immediately grabbed Mom's arm and spoke up on my behalf, her voice soft.

"Mom, don't blame Nora. She's just always had to compare herself to me."

Mom's gaze shifted the way I knew it would.

"You see what your sister has and suddenly you want the same thing. When are you going to grow out of this?"

Ella lowered her head, but her fingers slowly traced the gold clasp on the new bag.

In the living room mirror, she was watching me.

I unclenched my fists.

One more word and it would become fresh evidence that I was jealous of my sister.

Her gaze drifted past me and landed on the wooden music box on my desk.

"Nora, if you're really unhappy, I'll trade you my clothes for that music box. It would look so vintage in a dorm room."

That was the only thing my grandmother, Rose Whitmore, had left me.

When I was ten, the whole family took Ella to a theme park in Florida and dropped me off at Grandma Rose's.

the music box with money she'd saved from running a flea-market booth. She told me, "Whatever other people have, our Nora should have it too."Grandma had bought

Mom had already reached for the music box.

"It's just an old wooden box. Ella rarely asks for anything. Just let her have it."

Shane nodded.

"Once you get to Newland, I'll buy you a Bluetooth speaker."

Mom's finger pressed the winding key. The familiar melody played two notes.

The day Grandma was buried, I sat holding it all night.

Now everyone was waiting for me to nod, like they were waiting for me to finish something that had already been decided.

"Okay."

Ella let out a cheer and hugged the music box to her chest.

The melody cut off.

No one noticed that once I was back in my room, I opened a resale app.

I listed the pale-yellow dress, the old camera, the bookshelf, and everything else I could sell, one item at a time.

Sale notifications lit up the screen one after another.

I placed the acceptance letter from Lakecrest Tech on the top layer of my suitcase and slowly zipped it shut.

Chapter 4

The day before the graduation party, the backyard was hung with purple and silver balloons.

The banner read:

"Congratulations, Ella Ashford! Next Stop: Newland University!"

Mom ordered a three-tiered cake. Dad rented string lights and a champagne tower.

Relatives, neighbors, and church friends from the community had all received invitations.

The invitations featured only Ella's photo.

"Where's my dress?" I asked.

Mom was fixing Ella's hair and didn't look up.

"Today is Ella's day. Just wear a white blouse. It'll be easier for handing out drinks and taking photos."

Derek pushed a case of soda to my feet.

"You don't like attention anyway. This is perfect for you."

I picked up the case. The cardboard edge dug into my arms.

Not one person asked if the box was heavy.

They were all busy adjusting Ella's hem.

Derek handed me the laptop.

"While you're at it, put together a video of Ella's photos from over the years."

In the album: her first steps, her first recital, her first time on stage. Every picture was surrounded by smiling family.

I scrolled to the end. There was only one photo with me in it, a side profile.

In it, I stood behind Ella, holding the coat she'd taken off.

Derek leaned over.

"Leave that one out. The composition's off. You look kind of out of place there."

I said nothing and hit delete.

The screen went dark for a second, reflecting my own face back at me.

Colorless and alone.

Just then, Mom's phone rang.

She answered, and her face lit up in seconds.

"The local paper is sending a reporter to the party!"

The caller said they wanted to interview "the award-winning Ashford graduate," but Mom cut them off and launched into Ella's Newland University acceptance.

She didn't even ask for the name.

She turned and hugged Ella.

"They must have heard you got into Newland. Our Ella is going to be in the paper!"

Ella said, "Could there be a mix-up?" but she'd already had Derek add the interview to the party schedule.

She knew that as long as she stood in the spotlight, no one would look for another name.

I quietly carried the soda into the storage room.

The local paper had contacted me.

The state science competition committee had announced this year's sole top-prize winner, and Lakecrest Tech had confirmed my full scholarship.

The reporter had emailed me. I never replied.

They'd confirmed my hometown from the school's published list of winners, then found the party address on Mom's public social media post.

At five in the morning, I pulled out the suitcase I'd already packed.

Inside were three sets of clothes, my laptop, my documents, and one photograph of Grandma.

I placed the house key on the kitchen island.

Next to it lay the 529 account year-end statement showing a balance of just over eight thousand dollars.

The family group chat was still blowing up on my phone.

Mom: "The reporter comes at two. Ella, remember to start by talking about how Mom and Dad supported you."

Derek: "Shane, you're on the livestream. Let everyone see our family's Newland University star."

Ella: "Nora, come help me with my makeup early, okay?"

Mom sent me a separate message.

"I thought about it last night. We can add your name to a corner of the banner too. Just don't zone out in front of the reporter. After the party, Mom will take you to buy a new dress."

In the text box, I typed, "I'm your daughter too."

I stared at it for a few seconds, then deleted it letter by letter.

I left the group chat and blocked all five of them.

Outside, the car I'd booked pulled up on time.

I didn't look back at the house I'd lived in for eighteen years.

As the car merged onto the highway toward the airport, my electronic boarding pass for Lakecrest appeared on the screen.

I stared at the destination under my name for a long time.

Twenty-seven hundred miles away, nobody knew "quiet, awkward Nora."

The moment the plane broke through the clouds, I laughed until the tears streamed down.

They were still waiting for me to get up and serve Ella.

And I had already left the life they'd planned for me.

Before I powered off my phone, the last notification was from the local paper.

"Interview team en route to the Ashford residence: Who is the graduate who won the state's top science prize and a full scholarship to a top engineering school?"