2 I still remember the first night Mom brought him home.
Part 2
I still remember the first night Mom brought him home. She wore a tight black dress, the kind I’d never seen her in, and a heavy new perfume that clung to every corner of our tiny apartment. I sat at the table in my worn public-school uniform, eating instant noodles, when the door opened.
He walked in carrying a bouquet, smiling like he’d just stepped out of a mouthwash commercial.
“Brin,” Mom said brightly, her voice higher than usual. “This is Todd. I told you about him.”
I had never heard his name before. I nodded politely.
Todd extended a hand. A shiny watch on his wrist. His deep voice sounded more like a business deal than a greeting to his girlfriend’s daughter.
“Nice to meet you. I heard you’re really smart.”
I murmured a small yes and glanced at Mom. She was fixing her hair, her eyes sparkling like a teenager in love.
From that night on, Todd appeared more and more, and each time he did, another piece of my old world was pushed aside. Mom started coming home later, dressing up more, laughing more—but not with me. She stopped buying the cheap pizza we used to share every Saturday. Instead there were cocktail nights at Todd’s, where I was shoved into his daughter’s room.
Aubrey was sixteen. She looked at me like I was a stain on her white carpet.
“My dad really knows how to pick,” she whispered to her sister as I entered. “Another one to split the inheritance.”
I pretended not to hear.
Todd had three kids—Aubrey, Dylan, and Chloe. All blonde, dressed like magazine models, with sharp voices and eyes that always measured me. They lived in a house so big I got lost walking from the kitchen to the backyard. The walls were covered with family portraits. None of them had a place for me.
Even when Mom moved in with Todd, dragging me along, I still didn’t have a place. They gave me a small room downstairs, far from Mom’s. No one asked if I even wanted to move.
“Are you okay?” Mom asked me that first night we slept in Todd’s house.
I nodded. She stroked my hair, but her hand felt cold.
“As long as you behave,” she said, “everything will be fine.”
I didn’t know what *behave* meant anymore. Was it keeping quiet when Aubrey scolded me for using the shared bathroom? Was it not complaining when Mom skipped my school awards night to have dinner with Todd’s business partner? Or was it never asking why I was suddenly banned from the second floor—because that was “family space”?
Mom switched from hand-brewed coffee to machine espresso, from sneakers to high heels, from canvas totes to designer handbags. I switched from being her daughter to a guest.
One night I watched her stand in front of the mirror for hours—perfume, curls, even fake eyelashes. I lingered at the doorway, uncertain.
“Mom, I think I have a headache. Maybe I can stay home tomorrow.”
She looked at me through the mirror, her heavily made-up eyes narrowing for a few seconds.
“You shouldn’t skip school randomly, Brin. Living in Todd’s house isn’t like before. Everything needs to be in order.”
I bit my lip. “I just feel a little dizzy.”
Mom turned, placed her hands on my shoulders, and squeezed gently.
“I know you’re not used to it, but this is an opportunity for both of us. Todd has means. He can give you more than I ever dreamed of. But you need to cooperate.”
I was thirteen. From that moment on, I became part of Mom’s strategy to secure her place in Todd’s family. I didn’t dare cause trouble. I didn’t do anything that would make Mom lose face. I cleaned the dishes, studied on my own, never asked her for rides, never made noise, never complained.
No matter how hard I tried, I was still a shadow lost inside that four-story house.
One day I secretly returned to our old apartment. The door was locked. A new *For Rent* sign hung out front. I was holding a strawberry popsicle I had just bought, and it tasted like nothing.
I missed the mom who hugged me through movie nights. Who made me laugh when I was upset about an A-minus. Who stayed up all night waiting for my fever to break.
That woman was gone.
And I began to understand that in Todd’s house I had no role. I was only the condition attached to a woman fighting to keep her spot next to a wealthy man.
