When Their Lies Broke

Dad smoothed down his expensive designer suit and nodded along. "No pain, no gain. Your aunt and I are doing this for her own good."

Hearing that, tears of blood streamed down my face. "But why does it always have to be me? Why not Lola?"

No one heard my scream. My mom glanced at the clock on the wall.

"It's already ten o'clock. Samantha still isn't back. Give her a call and tell her to get home."

I watched my mom lead Lola into the house, casually swapping her expensive clothes for the plain, worn-out workwear she usually wore. I watched my dad take off his luxury watch and dial my number.

For the first time, I didn't pick up right away. His first reaction was anger.

"She's still mad we didn't answer her call during Lola's birthday party. So immature."

My mom slammed down a bowl of bland cabbage soup, frowning. "I told you not to let her work at that construction site. It's a bad environment. She's going to go downhill. Look—she's already stopped coming home."

Mom, so you do know construction sites are dangerous. You do know I'm not safe there.

But when I called you, begging to come home because someone was harassing me, you said, "Samantha, you're really going to start lying now? Your father and I have worked ourselves to the bone raising you. We didn't do it so you could turn into a liar."

After a few more failed calls, my mom couldn't sit still anymore.

"I'm going down to that site right now and dragging her back."

Thinking of my broken body back there, swarmed with flies, I smiled bitterly. I couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she found me.

But just as she stood up, Lola immediately wrapped her arm around Mom's, comforting her.

"Aunt Macey, don't be upset. Samantha's probably just hurt that I didn't invite her to my birthday. It's okay—I'll apologize to her."

My mom froze. Her face darkened even more. "Why should you apologize? She's just spoiled. Your father and I are the ones who let her get that way."

My dad sighed, disappointed. "Lola, this has nothing to do with you. Samantha has always been difficult. If she were even half as considerate as you, we wouldn't have these problems."

"You know what? Let her stay gone. If she never comes back, so be it. Your mother and I will just consider ourselves down one daughter."

Dad, as you wish. I really can't come back.

Watching my parents drop the idea of coming to find me, all because of one sentence from Lola, I let out a bitter laugh. Another cut to my heart. Blood dripped from the corner of my eye.

That night, Dad drove himself, Mom, and Lola home. My soul followed.

Standing in front of their brand-new mansion, my heart ached all over again.

I flashed back to the day we "went bankrupt." A group of people calling themselves creditors stormed into our house and smashed everything in sight. The only room left untouched was Lola's. Mine got hit the hardest—nothing stayed whole. I begged them on my knees to spare the family photo of Mom, Dad, and me. In the end, someone still crushed the frame under their boot.

Now my old bedroom was Lola's bedroom. The family photo had been replaced with one of her and my parents. The pomegranate tree I'd planted in the yard as a kid had been ripped out by the roots. In its place stood Lola's favorite gardenias.

Lola said she was scared. My mom—who had never once slept beside me—immediately rushed over to soothe her at once and sitting with her until she fell asleep.

The sight burned my eyes. I wanted to leave, but my soul was rooted to the spot.

Lola curled up happily in my mom's arms, looking shy. "Aunt Macey... can I call you Mom?"

I thought my mom would say yes. Instead, she just smiled, got out of bed, tucked Lola in, and left the room.

The moment the door closed, my dad rushed over, pale as a ghost.

"Honey... I just got a call from the construction site. Samantha's been in an accident."