Chapter 3

The first entry appeared on the screen, large enough for everyone to read.

Olivia' s voice, a little shaky now, began to read aloud.

"October 12th. Olivia arrived today."

I remembered that day.

The tension in the Miller mansion was thick enough to cut.

Mr. and Mrs. Miller were ecstatic, nervous, trying too hard.

Olivia stood in the grand foyer, looking small and out of place in her worn jeans and a faded t-shirt.

"She looks... like life has been hard on her. Her hands are calloused, her clothes old but clean. She works hard, you can tell. Mom and Dad are falling all over themselves. 'Make Olivia feel comfortable, Sarah.' That' s what Mom said. 'She' s your sister now.' "

I saw Mrs. Miller flinch at Olivia' s reading of "Mom."

Olivia continued.

"We were introduced. I didn' t shake her hand. I saw her looking at her own hands, rough from work, then at my smooth ones. I didn' t want to make her feel bad, make her compare. So I just nodded. Smiled, I think. Or tried to."

A murmur went through the room.

I remembered the sting of Mrs. Miller' s words later that day.

"You were so rude to Olivia, Sarah! Deliberately snubbing her. What is wrong with you?"

I hadn' t explained. They wouldn' t have believed me.

It was easier to be the villain they already saw.

"Later, Mom pulled me aside. 'Why were you so cold to Olivia? So snobbish? Not even a handshake? I' m so disappointed in you, Sarah. You need to try harder. She' s been through so much.' "

"I didn' t say anything. What was the point?"

Olivia paused, looked directly at Mrs. Miller.

"I remember that, Sarah. I remember my hands. I was ashamed of them."

Her voice was quiet, but it carried.

Mrs. Miller looked down, her face pale.

Mr. Miller stared straight ahead, his jaw tight.

Ethan scoffed. "She' s making excuses. Sarah was always jealous."

"Was I, Ethan?" Olivia' s voice cut back, sharp. "Or was she trying to protect me from feeling small in your big, fancy world? Something you never cared about."

She turned back to the screen.

The guests were silent now, all eyes on the projected words.

The air in the ballroom was changing.

The certainty of their judgments was starting to crack.

My spirit felt a flicker. Not joy. Not yet.

Just... a lessening of the cold.