My Sister Controlled My Life with Pocket Change Chapter 05
Before I boarded the plane, Mrs. Hartley bought me a new phone and set me up with a new SIM card.
“The scholarship will cover your tuition and living expenses without any issues. Don’t overthink anything. Once you get to the school, all you need to do is focus on your studies.”
I tried to thank her, but she cut me off.
“Don’t thank me. You earned this yourself. You’re the excellent one.”
My eyes grew hot and tears spilled down my cheeks.
That was the first time anyone had ever praised me.
Growing up, the only person who ever got praise from my parents was Rhea.
Every time there was an exam, if she showed even the slightest improvement, my parents would be thrilled and buy her whatever she wanted as a reward.
Even when she did poorly, they never scolded her. Instead, they comforted her in soft, gentle voices.
But when I came home with first-place awards, my parents would barely glance at me.
“Are you done showing off? Put them away before Rhea sees them and gets upset.”
—
I had long since accepted that all the flowers and applause belonged to Rhea.
But now, here was someone telling me I was excellent.
Mrs. Hartley didn’t say anything else. She just let out a soft sigh and wiped my tears away.
When the plane took off, I stared out the window the entire time.
I watched the lights on the ground shrink smaller and smaller until they all blurred together into a hazy sea of light.
I closed my eyes and a torrent of images flooded through my mind.
The last one that held was the moment I was shoved out the door, barefoot.
When I opened my eyes again, all I could see outside were clouds stretching on forever.
It was still dark when we arrived in London.
The air was thick with the dampness that follows a rainstorm.
The person who picked us up was warm and energetic, talking nonstop about the city during the entire drive.
The noise washed away much of my anxiety and disorientation.
Mrs. Hartley had arranged the housing herself.
She was worried I wouldn’t adjust well to the school dormitories and
—
wanted me to stay with her.
“This is your room. Take a look and see if there’s anything else you need.”
The room wasn’t large, but it was spotless and tidy.
A brand-new computer sat on the desk. By the window was a small potted plant, vibrant and thriving.
Everything was new. Even the closet was filled with brand-new clothes.
“All of this is for me?”
Mrs. Hartley nodded, and my nose stung sharply. I couldn’t hold back the tears.
She ruffled my hair gently, her voice full of sympathy.
“From now on, this is your home.”
Tears completely blurred my vision.
For lunch, Mrs. Hartley took me out to eat. I stared at the menu for a long time, too scared to order anything.
She noticed my hesitation and ordered a bowl of mac and cheese for me.
I looked down at the bowl, and suddenly I was back at that dinner table at home, thinking about the shrimp Mom had tossed into my
—
plate, remembering the dinner rolls I was always allowed to eat for free.
I buried my face in the bowl and ate slowly, carefully, taking in every single bite.
That evening, Mrs. Hartley brought me a stack of study materials.
My eyes drifted over the complex material, and the whole situation still felt completely surreal.
Mrs. Hartley stood at the door and spoke softly.
“There’s no rush to dive into studying. Take a few days to rest first. I’ll take you to registration when we get to campus. It won’t be hard to adjust to life here. Just take it one step at a time.”
Take it one step at a time.
Back in that house, everything I did was always rushed, always timed.
Rhea was terrified I’d take more than my share, and my parents were always afraid I’d cost them too much.
But now, in a foreign country thousands of miles from home, someone was telling me to take it slow.
I gripped the materials tightly in my hands and nodded, slow but firm.
That night, I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling for a very long time.
The room was quiet, broken only by the occasional sound of a car
—
horn drifting in from outside, and yet I felt completely at peace.
I closed my eyes and buried myself deep into the soft, fluffy blankets.
In that moment, it finally sank in. I had really left.