Josh and I had been together for seven years. Finally, we were getting married.
Sitting at the vanity, I layered on three coats of powder before my pale and sickly face looked anything close to normal.
Footsteps echoed behind me. In the mirror, my mother’s reflection appeared.
“Grace.”
My back stiffened for a moment before I forced a smile, one that barely qualified as such.
“Mom… you’re here.”
Without warning, she pulled out a paring knife and pressed it against her throat.
“Can you let Carrie marry Josh instead?” she pleaded. “The fortune teller said this is the only way she’ll ever recover. She’s been in love with Josh for so long. Marrying him is the only way she’ll get better.”
Afraid I might refuse, she pressed the blade harder against her skin, drawing a thin line of red.
“If you don’t agree, I’ll die right here. Then you won’t get married either.”
I stared at her, unable to wrap my head around it.
“So, whatever Carrie wants, I have to give it to her? My liver, my wedding, my dress, my ring… even my fiancé?”
“Yes.”
Her answer was firm and unwavering.
“If it weren’t for George, we would’ve been homeless long ago. This is the least you can do for Carrie.”
I had heard those words so many times.
Ever since she remarried George Brooks and brought my brother and me into their home, she never let me forget—I owed Carrie.
Growing up, I had to give her everything.
My mother and brother’s love. The toys and dresses I liked. Even my test scores.
Now, all I had left was Josh.
