I let my dad pat my shoulder hard enough to bruise and whisper, “Better get used to it, parasite. This is your rent for breathing our air.”
I ate my dinner in silence, nodding when they berated me, looking at the floor when they laughed. They thought I had broken. They thought they had won. Their confidence swelled like a balloon, making them reckless.
It all culminated in The Night.
There were two events happening simultaneously.
First, Melissa had finally secured what she called her “Golden Ticket”—an invitation to the exclusive Vogue Nova launch party downtown. She had been bragging about it for months, claiming she was a shoo-in for a modeling contract if she just showed up.
Second, my parents were hosting the annual dinner for the regional Business Association at the Hayes-Barton Country Club. This was their crowning glory. My father was gunning for a seat on the board, and my mother was desperate to prove that the rumors of their financial instability were false.
