“Rachel.”
“No.”
“She doesn’t need to change.”
Vanessa lowered her voice.
“You know Sophie doesn’t like sharing attention.”
I stared at her.
“Sophie is delighted.”
Vanessa said nothing.
“The only person upset is you.”
Her face changed.
“You always have to make Mia equal to Sophie.”
That sentence landed strangely.
I thought I had misunderstood it.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
I stepped closer.
“They are equal.”
Vanessa gave me a cold smile.
“That’s exactly the problem.”
For a moment, I had no words.
Then she said.
“There’s another dress in the bag.”
“Change her.”
“No.”
“Then don’t complain when this becomes a problem.”
I should have listened more carefully to that warning.
Not because I should have obeyed her.
Because she was telling me exactly what kind of person she had become.
PART 2
Dinner started half an hour later.
My mother brought mashed potatoes to the table.
Aunt Carol carried green beans.
My father was carving bread.
Vanessa brought in a large skillet of fried chicken covered in thick reddish-brown sauce.
The girls sat beside each other.
They were still happy about the dresses.
Sophie leaned toward Mia.
“I like that we match.”
Mia smiled.
“Me too.”
Vanessa heard her.
She set the skillet down harder than necessary.
The metal hit the table.
Everyone looked up.
My mother immediately looked at me.
Not Vanessa.
Me.
“Rachel, couldn’t you have just changed her?”
I stared at her.
“You know how Vanessa feels.”
I put down my fork.
“Why should a four-year-old change clothes because a grown woman can’t handle two children wearing similar dresses?”
Mom sighed.
“Don’t start.”
“I didn’t.”
