Chapter 3: A Sister’s Shadow

Hard work paid off. By the second semester of ninth grade, the first round of practice SAT scores went up, and my name was at the top of the honor roll.

Lillian, who usually scraped into the top hundred, didn’t even make the list.

When I got home, Natalie was poking Lillian’s head with a manicured finger, while Dr. Phil blared on the TV in the background—his audience gasping at some stranger’s family drama.

“What’s going on with you lately? All you care about is your phone and your hair. If you keep this up, your dad’s going to start playing favorites.”

Lillian twisted a strand of hair around her finger, eyes glued to the carpet.

Natalie noticed me and pasted on a smile. “Allison, you’re back?”

I nodded and hurried past, catching the sound of Lillian promising to do better.

May brought the second round of SAT practice tests. Lillian fell even further behind. After the parent-teacher conference, Natalie lost it on her. I heard the shouting through my door:

“Didn’t I tell you to break up with that boy and focus on your studies? You’re too young for this!”

Dad rushed in after work, putting himself between them. “She didn’t want to do badly, okay? If you hurt her, you’ll just regret it.”

He gave Lillian a look. “Aren’t you going to apologize to your mom?”

Lillian sat stubborn, twisting her hands in her lap.

Dad turned to me at the table. “Your sister’s getting yelled at—can’t you say something to comfort her?”

I offered a tight, sarcastic smile. “Would you be happy if I, like you, rushed over and took a hit for Lillian?”

Dad was silent. The air between us thickened, cold and sharp.

After that, Natalie started tracking Lillian’s every move. But months of slacking off couldn’t be fixed overnight. When the high school placement results came out, I was the county’s top scorer. Lillian didn’t even make the minimum.

When I submitted my application, I found Lillian sobbing in her room, Dad and Natalie murmuring comfort behind closed doors.

I slipped out to the library, streetlights flickering overhead. The air outside was crisp, almost biting. Good grades are earned, Mom always said. They pave the way for a good future.

I never imagined the road I’d paved would almost be destroyed.