I pressed a hand to my burning cheek.
For a moment, I said nothing, just stared at my mother in despair.
“Fine. I’ll donate my liver to her.”
The moment the words left my mouth, my mother’s face lit up. She couldn’t even hide her eagerness, already thinking about rushing back to take care of Carrie. She turned to the waiter and said, “Excuse me, can you reheat all the dishes and pack them to go?”
She muttered to herself as she counted the dishes, “Carrie loves eating here.”
I forced a bitter smile.
Carrie got to come to expensive restaurants like this all the time, while I was here for the first time in my life. I had thought the
dish names sounded so elegant, like poetry. But before I could even savor them, everything was packed away.
The waiter returned with neatly wrapped takeout bags. My mother, Nick, and George all stood up at once. Not a single glance nor
a single word was spared for me.
The three of them left the private dining room together, hurrying off as if afraid Carrie might go hungry for even a moment. And just like that, I was left sitting alone at the empty table, swallowed by silence, my heart heavy with unspoken grievances.
I thought back to ten years ago, when my father was still alive.
Back then, my mother and Nick loved me. I loved drumsticks, and Nick would always claim he didn’t like them, just so he could
give me his share. On rainy days, he would wait for me at the school gate and carry me home so my shoes wouldn’t get wet. When I got into trouble, he was always the first to shield me. When I laughed, he laughed with me. When I cried, he would do anything to make me smile again.
