Chapter 3

Dinner was a performance.

Ashley, tanned and glowing from LA, recounted exaggerated stories of her "almost famous" encounters.

Mom and Dad hung on her every word. Ethan refilled her wine glass constantly.

"Oh, Sarah, darling," Mom said, finally noticing me. "It was just terrible luck about the wedding date. If we'd known Ashley was coming..."

"Yes," Dad chimed in, "you should have consulted the family more closely, Sarah. Ashley's schedule is so demanding."

Mark wasn't there. He' d called earlier, not to apologize, but to say Ashley needed him to help set up her new streaming equipment.

Ashley turned to me, her eyes wide with fake concern. "Sarah, I felt so awful. If I' d known you picked that day..."

I just picked at my plain salad, the one I' d made for myself.

Suddenly, Ashley gasped, clutching her throat. "Oh my god! What' s in this lasagna? Mushrooms? Sarah, you know I' m allergic to mushrooms!"

There were no mushrooms in the lasagna. I never put mushrooms in it.

"I... I can' t breathe!" Ashley wheezed dramatically.

Carol, my mother, shot up from her chair. Her eyes, cold and furious, fixed on me.

Then, her hand flew across my face. The slap echoed in the dining room.

"How could you?" she screamed. "Are you trying to hurt your sister?"

Ethan jumped up. "She did it on purpose! She' s always been jealous of Ashley!"

He grabbed Ashley, who was now making gagging sounds. "We need to get her to urgent care! Now!"

They bundled Ashley out the door, Dad fumbling for his keys, Mom cooing over Ashley' s "brave face."

They left me standing there, my cheek stinging, my heart numb.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Rodriguez, who came in twice a week, was clearing the table. She paused by me.

"Miss Sarah," she said softly, her eyes on my hands, which I' d unconsciously pulled from my sleeves. They were a mess of angry red welts. "Your allergy... it looks very bad."

I nodded. "It's okay, Mrs. Rodriguez."

But it wasn't.