Lilly
S
tanding
stiff in the middle of the kitchen, I stared at my feet from under furrowed brows as both my parents watched me. My brain worked to the point of smoking, frantically trying to come up with an excuse to our newest argument. On the table between us was an acceptance letter to the St. Bannadier University Medical Program, and when I blinked, I could see the sharp edges where it’d been ripped open.
“You’re lying to us.” The hard set of my father’s voice slithered into my ears to spread a brittle cold through me. A shiver lodged between my shoulder blades, and I beat back the sting in my eyes as bitterness clogged my throat.
How did they always manage to make things about themselves? Shouldn’t parents be proud of their kids for getting any sort of scholarships, let alone a
