Then she grabbed her phone, paired it with a tired-looking selfie after a sleepless night, and began typing out a Facebook post.
“My daughter’s stomach illness flared up again. As her mom, my heart aches so much I couldn’t sleep all night.”
Post sent.
Within five minutes, aunts and uncles replied with sympathetic emojis and Venmo transfers.
The numbers on her screen jumped, and her eyes lit up with excitement.
“Mom, I’m heading to class.”
……
No reply. Laura was always extra focused whenever money transfers came in.
On my way, I passed a breakfast café and saw my roommate Sophie Miller happily eating soy milk and fried dough sticks.
She spotted me and waved enthusiastically. “Emily! Come over and eat with me, I bought too much!”
Instinctively, I stepped back.
The surveillance camera on the window pointed right at me—Laura must be watching.
Any moment of happiness would get me penalized.
“N-no thanks, I’m not hungry.” I hurried away.
During class, the teacher praised me in front of everyone for scoring the highest on the assignment, even posting about me in the parents’ group chat.
My classmates looked at me with envy, but I hunched my shoulders, wishing I could crawl under the desk.