The big one. The party she had been bragging about in the family group chat for months, the one with thirty-two relatives and two folding tables and a guest list she curated like a queen.
I tapped the date. I typed one word into the event title. Gift.
Then I locked the phone and pulled the covers up to my chin.
“Six months,” I whispered into the dark. “Just give me six months, Brooke, and I’ll bring you something nobody assigned, because I have a feeling this story is bigger than one photograph.”
Gift.
***
For six months, I became the woman they always wanted.
I baked for every gathering.
I volunteered before Brooke could assign anything.
I complimented her hair, her kids, and her terrible centerpiece arrangements.
Every Sunday looked the same.
Every Sunday, Brooke hugged me like we were family.
Every Sunday, I smiled back and wondered which lie she’d tell next.
The longer I stayed quiet, the less anyone suspected I was watching.
I became the woman they always wanted.
That’s when I started noticing things I’d ignored for years.
Brooke always poured Richard’s coffee before anyone else’s. She knew exactly how much sugar he wanted.
He never had to ask.
