“Sarah is hoarding electronics for the kid,” Karen complained, pointing at Lily like she was a stray dog. “She bought an iPad for her, Dad. Can you believe it?
When Timmy needs one.”
Frank laughed. It was a wet, rasping sound that smelled of tobacco and stale lager. “Karen’s right.
Why waste high-tech toys on a vegetable? She doesn’t even know how to say thank you. She’s useless.”
The word hung in the air.
Vegetable. I felt Lily tremble near my leg. She looked up at me, her eyes filling with tears.
She didn’t make a sound—she never did when she cried—but the pain in her face was absolute. She understood the tone. She understood the rejection.
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