Zoe’s laughter broke the silence. “Claire, don’t be upset. Vincent’s always let me ride up front. Back when he used to drive my dad’s car, I’d always sit in the passenger seat. They say sitting in the back makes it feel like you’re treating the driver like a chauffeur. It’s rude, you know? So, I got used to it.”
I was not upset. In fact, I smiled warmly. “You can sit there if you want.”
Vincent glanced at me several times through the rearview mirror, searching for a conversation starter.
“On the way here,” he began, “I saw this article about a med student named ‘Olivia Claire.’ Apparently, they published a groundbreaking paper that could create enormous value for the country. Funny enough, it’s in the same field as yours, late time.”
I didn’t respond. Olivia Claire was actually the pseudonym I used to publish my paper—a precaution my professor had insisted on for security reasons.
Before Vincent could press further, Zoe turned in her seat, her voice dripping with sweetness.
“Claire, you’ve been studying for so many years, but I haven’t heard about you achieving anything big like that.” She gasped, covering her mouth theatrically. “Oh no! I didn’t mean it like that. I just say things bluntly—no offense!”
Even Vincent’s gaze turned disdainful.
“Claire,” he said, his tone patronizing, “sometimes you have to accept that there’s a difference between people. You’ve been running yourself ragged for years, but it’s just aimless effort. After the wedding, why don’t you be a full-time housewife? I’ve reached a point in my career where you don’t need to work anymore.”
I offered a noncommittal response and turned my attention to my phone, replying to my professor’s messages. Their words no longer bothered me.
***
Two blocks from my university, Zoe asked to be dropped off.
“Thanks for the ride, Vincent. Love you!” she chirped, winking at me as she stepped out.
Then, winking at me specifically, “Sister, I am leaving first.”
I looked at the neighbourhood’s name and casually asked, “This isn’t the neighbourhood of our wedding house?”
“Oh,” Vincent replied lightly, “she’s probably visiting a friend.”
I didn’t press further.
Sensing my silence, he added, “She’s still injured, so I thought I’d drop her off on the way. Don’t be so petty.”
My expression remained calm and I said, “Oh, it’s perfectly normal for an older brother to give his sister a ride. Isn’t it?”
His words caught in his throat.
***