Chapter 4

The day before the graduation party, our living room was a minefield of gift boxes and shopping bags.

Poppy twirled in front of the floor-length mirror.

She wore a heavy, custom-fitted lace gown that glimmered under the overhead lights.

Mom knelt behind her, carefully smoothing out the hem of the dress.

Silas stood off to the side. He held a sparkling rhinestone tiara in his hands, waiting patiently to hand it to her.

"Mom, where's my dress?"

I walked over to the couch, looking at the pile of zipped garment bags.

Mom didn't even turn around.

She pinned a corsage to Poppy's waist and replied dismissively, "You barely talk to anyone anyway. Just sit near the back tomorrow and eat. It really doesn't matter what you wear."

My older brother, Graham, walked out of his bedroom and let out a dry scoff.

"Tomorrow is entirely about Poppy. You can just wear whatever. Be comfortable," he said, waving a hand at me.

"Honestly, that plain white button-down you have on right now is perfectly fine."

I stood there, watching the three of them orbit around Poppy like she was the sun.

It felt like watching a stage play that I hadn't been cast in.

"Okay," I said, forcing a polite smile. "It really does look beautiful."

Poppy beamed at me, her eyes wide and sweet. "Thanks, Flora!"

I didn't say another word.

I turned around and went back to my room.

Late that night, the laughter and chatter in the living room finally died down.

I locked my bedroom door.

Reaching under my desk, I pulled out my beat-up suitcase.

I packed exactly three sets of old clothes and my college acceptance letter. I left everything else behind.

At 6:00 AM, the sky outside was just starting to turn gray.

The whole house was dead silent.

My family was still fast asleep, saving their energy for the massive celebration later today.

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase. Lifting it slightly so the wheels wouldn't make a sound on the hardwood floor, I pushed the front door open.

In the entryway, I gently placed my house key on the shoe cabinet.

Then, I looked at the marble coffee table in the center of the living room.

Right in the middle of the clutter sat the roll of peppermints I had left there last night.

The paper wrapper was completely faded.

The candy inside was long expired, frozen into a hard rock over time.

Silas had shoved that roll of mints into my hands during our freshman year of high school, right after he won his first varsity basketball game.

He was sweating and grinning when he told me, "Flora, from now on, my first piece of sweetness is always yours."

I had kept it for three years.

Now, I was leaving it right there, abandoned on the messy table.

I carried my suitcase outside and climbed into the Uber waiting at the edge of the driveway.

The airport terminal was packed.

Overhead speakers droned with constant boarding announcements.

I printed my boarding pass, made it through TSA, and stood in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.

Outside, the morning sun was finally rising, washing the tarmac in a bright, golden light.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was an iMessage from Mom:

[Your Dad and I talked about it all night. Today's party is technically for you, too.]

[When you wake up, Mom will take you to the mall to pick out a dress, okay?]

I stared at the screen. I didn't reply.

Instead, I opened my contacts.

I blocked Mom. Then Dad. Then Graham. Then Silas.

Finally, I swiped left on the GroupMe chat named "The Hayes Family" and tapped Leave Group.

Instantly, my world went entirely quiet.

I locked my phone screen, turned my back to the window, and walked toward my boarding gate.