Eight Years in the Shadows

I sat outside the Whitmore estate on my e-bike, killing time on my phone while I waited for Mom.

Then a woman shrieked from inside.

"I'm going to find that shameless bitch!"

My head snapped up.

Mom rushed out with several huge bags, her hands straining under the weight.

The second she spotted me, she smiled.

"Tanya, grab these."

I loaded the bags into the front basket, then handed Mom a helmet.

"Why'd you get off work so late?"

She pulled it on. "Ryan came home for dinner with his fiancée. There was a ton to do."

My mind went blank.

Ryan was getting married.

I froze. Ice shot through my veins.

Mom patted my shoulder. "Why are you zoning out? Come on. It's getting dark."

"It's nothing."

I hit the throttle and pulled away from the gated community.

Hot summer air smacked my face as cold sweat beaded on my forehead.

Behind me, Mom kept gossiping.

"The Whitmores were a total mess today. Ryan was having dinner with his fiancée when some woman called. He answered right in front of her like he had nothing to hide. Mrs. Whitmore looked furious, but she couldn't cause a scene. Apparently, that woman's been hanging on to Ryan for years."

Her voice dripped with disgust.

"I heard she's a nobody. No money, no connections. And she actually thinks she belongs with the Whitmores? Ryan's getting married, and she still won't let go. Shameless. Mrs. Whitmore said once she finds her, she'll ask the girl's parents what kind of daughter they raised."

All the strength drained from my body.

My fingers started shaking.

The e-bike lurched to a stop.

The leftovers spilled from the basket, sending lobster tails and filet mignon across the dusty road.

Mom hopped off and crouched to gather everything.

"What is wrong with you? Why'd you slam on the brakes? This came from the Whitmores' dinner. It's expensive. I had to ask the house manager for it. We'd never get food like this otherwise."

I stared at the lobster tails and filet mignon scattered across the filthy road. My eyes burned.

"Mom, can you please stop bringing home other people's leftovers?"

"You don't get it." She shot me an irritated look. "Do you have any idea how rich the Whitmores are? Most people could never afford this. You think I'd spend every day cleaning someone else's house if I had money?"

She carefully wiped the dirt off the food.

"If you'd made something of yourself and married rich, I wouldn't have to work this hard."

Here we go again.

Same speech. Every time.

To her, marrying rich was the only way out.

I shut my eyes and swallowed the hurt.

Without a word, I crouched and picked up the food piece by piece.

Once everything was packed and Mom was back on the bike, I hit the throttle.

We took off.

The Whitmores' gated neighborhood faded behind us, replaced by our cramped, run-down block.

The difference between their world and ours couldn't have been clearer.

By the time we got home, I was drained.

I headed straight for my room.

Then Mom called after me.

"I'm making a few more dishes tonight. Go prepare food materials."

I went to the kitchen and sorted through the vegetables on autopilot.

Hot summer air drifted through the window.

Mom started again. "Remember Gabriel? The guy Aunt Catlyn introduced you to? He called again today. Your aunt's embarrassed because you keep turning him down. I don't get you. What kind of guy are you waiting for? We're regular people. Find someone decent and build a stable life."

Then she added, "And don't go chasing some guy way out of your league. You'll only embarrass yourself."

My fingers stilled, snapping a leaf in half.

"Mom, tell Aunt Catlyn I'll meet Gabriel."