At dinner, seeing my father's gloomy face, I knew he was aware of it, too.
So, I didn't bother asking anything further.
Tonight's dinner was unusually lavish, with two types of salads, ham and a big bowl of chicken soup on the table.
Seeing me cry, Mother sneered, "Oh, don't eat the meal Amber paid for with her life, you worthless creature!"
I bowed my head and shoveled a mouthful of the dishes, tears falling in large drops, yet my tongue couldn't help but savor this rare, delicious taste.
The next day, while working in the fields, I overheard people from the village talking and learned that Amber hadn't died; she had been sold.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I was glad that she wasn't dead.
"Angela, you have no idea how wealthy the visitors were yesterday. They bought three girls in one go; Amber went off to live a better life."
The logic seemed sound to me. Perhaps being bought by a wealthy person was better than staying here. At least there would be food at every meal.
She looked at me closely, then added, "But you're not as fortunate; you don't have Amber's beauty, and nobody would want you."
Suddenly, I understood what my mother meant when she said I was not destined for better.
I felt happy for Amber, but a strange feeling subtly crept into my heart.
The money from Amber's sale bought us that meal, and after that, even heavier burdens were placed upon my shoulders.
Days passed, and my mother's belly grew more extensive, signaling the impending birth.
My uncle's wife, Samantha Lewis, came to visit, fanning herself and eyeing my mother's round belly with a sigh. "Oh dear, that belly is so round; it looks like it's going to be a girl. It would be quite the joke if after selling Amber, you gave birth to another girl."
I've only just realized why my mother, who once had a bit of maternal love, has changed so drastically.
In the Lewis family, my father was the youngest son and oddly received the largest share of the inheritance, which always made the other branches resentful, leading them to mock and scorn us frequently.
Especially after my mother had two daughters in a row while my uncles had sons, their arrogance only increased.
This year, the harvest failed again, and it worsened my father's temper. He began to hit and yell at my mother, who, in turn, became harsh towards us.