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“Come on, Ethan. A sanitation worker’s daughter? You could do so much better.”
The words hit me like a slap.
But his uncle just shrugged.
“I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. She’s with you for money.”
I wanted to leave. But Ethan grabbed my hand and held it tightly.
His family didn’t apologize.
They just changed the subject.
But the comments didn’t stop.
They whispered when they thought I wasn’t listening. About my background. About my father picking up trash for a living.
About how it would look to their friends.
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