"Business is tight," Dad said, waving me off. "You need to start working and support the family."

Mom scoffed. "What if you fail again? Even if you get in, you'll be an old maid by graduation. Who'll want to marry you then?"

Under their pressure, I surrendered. I found a job near our hometown paying $1,200 a month. I kept $450 for survival and handed the rest to my parents for "safekeeping."

That money, I realized now, had flowed directly to Lily—funding her tuition and her lavish lifestyle abroad.

During the two years she spent "earning her master's":

While I pulled all-nighters in a cramped rental revising proposals, she was sightseeing at the Statue of Liberty.

While I shivered on an electric scooter commuting through winter storms, she sipped lattes in warm campus cafés.

While I worked unpaid overtime on weekends, she traveled the globe, posting pretentious captions like, "The world is a book, and I've turned another page."

We lived in different universes, and my parents watched it happen without a shred of guilt.

The most ridiculous part? Back then, I had actually felt proud of my sacrifice.

With Lily living halfway across the world, I'd let myself believe the distance had healed something. That I'd finally gotten my family back.

But I'd only been surviving on scraps—the overflow of love Mom and Dad saved for her.

Now the truth was out, and I was the punchline. The humiliation burned hollow in my chest.

I closed the app and locked my phone, watching the screen go dark. Then I flipped open my laptop.

There it was—an email I'd saved for a moment exactly like this. A job offer from my undergraduate professor, one of the few people who'd ever seen my worth.

Tessa Fox's email was brief, but it offered a lifeline. She had officially retired from the university and launched her own startup in Washington D.C.

"The company is young, but the potential is limitless," she wrote. "Are you interested in joining the team?"

I'd been tempted from her first message. But hesitation had anchored me then—my parents were aging, and D.C. felt like a world away. I'd convinced myself I couldn't leave.

Now, the decision was easy.

I hit send, and Tessa responded almost immediately.

"Savannah, you are always welcome here. I'm currently leading a team on an inspection tour across the states, so take your time settling your personal affairs. You can report for duty after the New Year."