“It was just a harmless joke!” my sister laughed as two guests helped me out of the swimming pool. I stood there trembling, struggling to move my injured arm. She knew I was still recovering from a serious accident, yet she acted as though nothing had happened.

moinsPart 2: “My shoulder,” I whispered.

He carefully wrapped the towel around me.

“We’re leaving. You need to get checked.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“Of course she’s leaving. Everything always has to be about Emily.”

I looked at my sister.

For years, she’d treated me as the uninteresting daughter.

The one who spent her days looking at spreadsheets while she attended glamorous parties, traveled, and enjoyed a comfortable position in our father’s property development business.

She was the vice president.

The future of Bellamy Development.

The daughter our father proudly introduced to important clients.

I was simply Emily.

The accountant.

The responsible one.

The sister who helped when tax season arrived but rarely appeared in the family photographs.

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