offered me a piece, there was only a small corner left.
No pink roses.
Hardly any frosting.
Just a little square of sponge cake.
I accepted it without complaining.
I was nine.
But those words stayed with me.
*You didn’t pay for that.*
Looking back, I think that was the moment I began believing I needed to earn the right to be included.
And over the years, I tried very hard to do exactly that.
When I turned twelve, I started babysitting for families in our neighborhood.
I kept my earnings in an old coffee tin hidden inside my bedroom closet.
One afternoon, Camille wanted an expensive pair of boots for a school dance.
Mom said the family couldn’t afford them.
I took forty dollars from my savings and gave it to my sister.
Camille barely looked up.
“Thanks, Liv.”
But Mom smiled and kissed the top of my head.
