At 7:18 that evening, I had twenty-three bones of the skull left to review, three cranial nerves I kept confusing, and less than twelve hours before the most important exam of my semester.<\/p>\n
My anatomy atlas lay open across the kitchen table, surrounded by index cards, two yellow highlighters, a half-finished mug of coffee, and the notebook I had been carrying everywhere for weeks. I had finally reached the point where the terms were beginning to stay in my head instead of sliding out the moment I looked away.<\/p>\n
Then Mason started crying in the living room.<\/p>\n
The sound came through the doorway in sharp, exhausted bursts. He had been restless most of the afternoon, and judging by the television playing loudly in the next room, nobody was trying very hard to settle him.<\/p>\n
I pressed two fingers against my temple and kept reading.<\/p>\n
Foramen ovale. Mandibular nerve.<\/p>\n
Foramen rotundum. Maxillary nerve.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaya.\u201d<\/p>\n
I recognized Cynthia\u2019s tone before she appeared.<\/p>\n
It was the voice she used when she had already decided I was going to do something and considered the actual asking a courtesy.<\/p>\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n
My stepmother stood in the kitchen entrance with one hand braced against the frame. Her blonde hair was clipped loosely at the back of her neck, and she wore the expression of somebody inconvenienced by my existence.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou need to watch Mason tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
For several seconds I thought I had misunderstood her.<\/p>\n
\u201cTonight?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced at the digital clock on the stove.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy anatomy final is tomorrow morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know when your exam is.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you know I\u2019m studying.\u201d<\/p>\n
Cynthia folded her arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve been studying all week.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAll month.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s even better. You\u2019re prepared.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
Behind her, Mason\u2019s crying rose another notch.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere\u2019s Brandon?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGetting ready.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
She gave me a small impatient sigh, as though the answer should not matter.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe has plans.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed my textbook.<\/p>\n
The movement was careful because I had learned that when Cynthia was already irritated, any sudden motion could become evidence that I was being dramatic.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo Brandon has plans,\u201d I said, \u201cand because he has plans, I\u2019m supposed to stop studying for my final and watch his child?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe needs one evening.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe has a baby.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich doesn\u2019t make me Mason\u2019s parent.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something changed in Cynthia\u2019s face.<\/p>\n
It was subtle. The muscles around her mouth tightened, and one eyebrow lifted slightly.<\/p>\n
That look had become familiar during the years since she married Dad.<\/p>\n
It meant I had crossed the invisible line between disagreeing with her and challenging her authority.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou live in this house,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou eat here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI buy most of my own food.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat isn\u2019t the point.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI pay Dad rent every month.\u201d<\/p>\n
She laughed once without humor.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou pay a token amount.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s what Dad and I agreed on.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father is too soft with you.\u201d<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
Dad.<\/p>\n
He was always introduced into our arguments when Cynthia wanted to remind me that the house belonged to him, while somehow implying that she alone understood how it should be run.<\/p>\n
Unfortunately, Dad wasn\u2019t home.<\/p>\n
He had left that morning for a work trip that required several hours of driving, and he wouldn\u2019t be back until the following evening.<\/p>\n
Cynthia knew that.<\/p>\n
So did I.<\/p>\n
And that was probably why this conversation was happening tonight.<\/p>\n
I reopened my textbook.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t babysit.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice sharpened.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaya.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not trying to be rude. My exam starts at six-fifteen tomorrow morning. If I fail anatomy, I can\u2019t move forward with the clinical portion of the nursing program on schedule.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not going to fail because you spend a few hours with your nephew.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know how long Brandon will be gone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe said a couple of hours.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brandon had said \u201ca couple of hours\u201d before.<\/p>\n
Once, it had meant until nearly two in the morning.<\/p>\n
Another time, he had stopped answering his phone.<\/p>\n
The third time, he had come home drunk enough to laugh when I told him Mason had spent forty minutes screaming because he was teething.<\/p>\n
I had started documenting things after that.<\/p>\n
Not because I intended to expose anybody.<\/p>\n
At least that was what I told myself.<\/p>\n
I wrote dates, times, requests, comments, incidents. Whenever Cynthia said something particularly cruel and later denied saying it, I recorded it. Whenever Brandon left Mason without asking properly, I recorded it. When items belonging to my late mother disappeared from storage, I wrote that down too.<\/p>\n
Three weeks of notes had become a surprisingly long timeline.<\/p>\n
It was saved on my laptop and backed up in my email.<\/p>\n
I had not shown it to anyone.<\/p>\n
Yet.<\/p>\n
Cynthia stepped closer to the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m telling you that your family needs help.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy family needs me to pass school too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou always make everything about school.\u201d<\/p>\n
The accusation was so ridiculous that for a moment I almost smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. Right now I do. Because I\u2019m in nursing school.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou think that makes you more important than everyone else?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s exactly how you act.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pushed my chair back and stood.<\/p>\n
The chair legs scraped against the tile, and Mason began crying louder from the other room.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not saying I\u2019m more important. I\u2019m saying Brandon is responsible for his child.\u201d<\/p>\n
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.<\/p>\n
Brandon entered the kitchen wearing a dark jacket and checking his phone.<\/p>\n
He was several years older than me and had perfected the expression of somebody who wanted credit for being present without accepting responsibility for whatever was happening.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n
Cynthia answered before I could.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour sister is refusing to help.\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes moved toward my books.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaya, come on.\u201d<\/p>\n
Those three words irritated me more than Cynthia\u2019s entire speech.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s one night.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe night before my final.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve studied.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo has Mom apparently,\u201d I said, gesturing toward Cynthia. \u201cMaybe she can watch him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Cynthia\u2019s eyes flashed.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have things to do.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo do I.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMine aren\u2019t optional.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNeither is my final.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brandon shoved his phone into his pocket.<\/p>\n
\u201cI already told people I\u2019d be there.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou already made plans without arranging childcare?\u201d<\/p>\n
He frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are you saying it like that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause that\u2019s what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMason likes you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat isn\u2019t the issue.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re literally sitting here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am studying.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brandon looked toward Cynthia.<\/p>\n
She looked back at him.<\/p>\n
It was a tiny exchange, almost nothing, but I knew it well.<\/p>\n
For years, the two of them had functioned like that around me. Cynthia pushed. Brandon avoided direct involvement. If I eventually gave in, everyone acted as though the matter had resolved itself naturally.<\/p>\n
If I resisted, I became the difficult person.<\/p>\n
Dad rarely saw that part.<\/p>\n
When he was home, Cynthia softened requests into suggestions.<\/p>\n
When he was away, suggestions became obligations.<\/p>\n
I reached for my coffee.<\/p>\n
It had gone cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Brandon blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not babysitting tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
Cynthia moved closer.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou need to think carefully about your attitude.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI have.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think you have.\u201d<\/p>\n
My pulse began beating harder, but I kept my voice level.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m twenty-two years old. I work shifts at the clinic. I pay what Dad asked me to pay. I\u2019m in school full time. I help around here. I\u2019ve babysat Mason plenty of times. Tonight I can\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her mouth tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are incredibly selfish.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brandon glanced down.<\/p>\n
He did not defend me.<\/p>\n
That hurt even though I expected it.<\/p>\n
Silence was Brandon\u2019s favorite form of participation.<\/p>\n
When Cynthia complained that I cared too much about school, he said nothing.<\/p>\n
When she borrowed things that had belonged to my mother without asking, he said nothing.<\/p>\n
When she tossed my mother\u2019s old sunflower mug because she called it chipped junk, he said nothing.<\/p>\n
When Cynthia told Dad that I was moody or ungrateful after arguments she had started, Brandon never corrected her version.<\/p>\n
He wasn\u2019t cruel in the obvious way.<\/p>\n
Sometimes that made it worse.<\/p>\n
I picked up my textbook and notebook.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going upstairs.\u201d<\/p>\n
Cynthia blocked the doorway.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cMove.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are going to stay down here and help your family.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCynthia.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t get to order me around in my own home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI asked you to move.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd I said no.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a few seconds we stood facing each other.<\/p>\n
Then Mason cried again.<\/p>\n
Brandon sighed as though the baby were something happening to him rather than because of him.<\/p>\n
That sound settled something inside me.<\/p>\n
I looked at Brandon.<\/p>\n
\u201cGo take care of your son.\u201d<\/p>\n
His cheeks reddened.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t talk to me like I\u2019m some deadbeat.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen don\u2019t act like childcare is everyone\u2019s responsibility except yours.\u201d<\/p>\n
His expression hardened.<\/p>\n
Cynthia stepped toward the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou want to know what your problem is, Maya?\u201d<\/p>\n
I said nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou think because you\u2019re going to be a nurse, everyone is supposed to rearrange their life around you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. I want everyone to stop rearranging my life around them.\u201d<\/p>\n
I reached for my laptop.<\/p>\n
Cynthia reached it first.<\/p>\n
Her hand came down beside the keyboard.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not walking away from this conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTake your hand off my computer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at me when I\u2019m speaking to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTake your hand off it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brandon finally moved.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, just let her\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Cynthia turned sharply.<\/p>\n
Her elbow struck the edge of the laptop.<\/p>\n
Or maybe she shoved it.<\/p>\n
For years afterward, that distinction would matter to her far more than it mattered to me.<\/p>\n
The computer slid sideways.<\/p>\n
I lunged for it.<\/p>\n
My fingertips caught the corner, but not enough.<\/p>\n
The laptop hit the tile.<\/p>\n
The sound was horrible.<\/p>\n
Plastic cracked. The screen flashed once, then went black beneath a white spiderweb of broken glass.<\/p>\n
Nobody moved.<\/p>\n
I stared down at it.<\/p>\n
The anatomy atlas beside me remained open to the skull.<\/p>\n
Somewhere in the next room, Mason was still crying.<\/p>\n
I crouched and picked up the laptop.<\/p>\n
A crack ran diagonally from the upper-left corner to the center.<\/p>\n
When I pressed the power button, nothing happened.<\/p>\n
Three weeks of records were backed up.<\/p>\n
My school files probably were too.<\/p>\n
But my final review notes, diagrams, practice quizzes, and the presentation I had been editing that afternoon were on that machine.<\/p>\n
My hands began shaking.<\/p>\n
Brandon spoke first.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n
Cynthia looked at the laptop, then at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was an accident.\u201d<\/p>\n
I lifted my eyes.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t apologize.<\/p>\n
Not even instinctively.<\/p>\n
She simply stood there, waiting for me to accept her explanation.<\/p>\n
Something inside me became very still.<\/p>\n
I placed the broken laptop on the table.<\/p>\n
Then I walked upstairs.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaya,\u201d Cynthia called.<\/p>\n
I kept going.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaya!\u201d<\/p>\n
My bedroom door closed behind me.<\/p>\n
I locked it.<\/p>\n
For several seconds I stood with both palms pressed against the wood, listening to my heartbeat.<\/p>\n
Then I crossed the room, pulled my duffel bag from the closet, and laid it on the bed.<\/p>\n
Because suddenly I understood something I should have understood years earlier.<\/p>\n
This was not an argument I was going to win.<\/p>\n
It was a house I was going to leave.<\/p>\n
At 7:18 that evening, I had twenty-three bones of the skull left to review, three cranial nerves I kept confusing, and less than twelve hours before the most important exam … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3633,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3634","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-readmore"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3634","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3634"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3634\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3664,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3634\/revisions\/3664"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3633"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3634"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3634"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3634"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}