Their Obedient Youngest Daughter Stopped Coming Home Chapter 01
My sister and I had a joint graduation party.
But the congratulatory sign hanging in the hotel ballroom was only for her.
[Congratulations to Blythe on her top scores and her acceptance to Linden University.]
I didn’t even get a flower.
During the toast, the relatives took turns praising Blythe.
Dad beamed with pride.
“Blythe learned to read when she was three. She was devouring chapter books by five. She won the national math olympiad at twelve. That was June seventeenth, twenty-sixteen…”
Aunt Patricia turned to me with a polite smile.
“And where did Ellis end up again?”
The whole table went silent.
Mom froze with her wine glass in hand.
Dad looked at Blythe.
Blythe looked at me.
Finally, my little cousin broke the silence.
“Um… somewhere down south, I think?”
I got into Stanton University.
My acceptance letter had been sitting in my desk drawer for forty days.
No one had ever opened it.
Mom forced a laugh.
“Ellis has always been easy. We never had to worry about her.”
So that was it. The “easy” one.
No one showed up to my parent-teacher conferences because I was the “easy” one.
So I ran a 104-degree fever and took a cab to the hospital by myself because I was the “easy” one
After the party ended, Mom asked me to sort through the gifts Blythe had received.
I counted the last one and closed the gift log.
School started the day after tomorrow. I’d already bought my own train ticket.
Only one difference.
I probably wasn’t buying a return ticket.
***
“Ellis, bring down Blythe’s other two suitcases! The trunk’s full already. Just carry your backpack and take the subway.”
Dad stood at the top of the stairs, spinning his car keys around one finger.
The day after the graduation party, the whole family shifted into full send-off mode for Blythe’s move to Kingsport.
Mom spent the entire morning in Blythe’s room, checking every item against her packing list.
She read each one aloud like she was inventorying family heirlooms.
“Did you pack sunscreen? It gets dry up there in the fall. Pack a couple extra bottles of lotion.”
“You’ve already asked me three times.”
Blythe laughed and folded another jacket into her suitcase.
“Because I know you. If I don’t keep asking, you’ll forget.”
Mom complained with a smile, but her hands never stopped smoothing out Blythe’s clothes.
I stood outside my own room.
An old backpack rested on my shoulders.
A twenty-inch suitcase sat beside my feet.
Everything I owned fit inside those two bags.
“Dad, my train leaves at three this afternoon. Will we make it?”
Either he didn’t hear me or he chose not to.
He was already carrying Blythe’s first suitcase downstairs.
Mom leaned out of Blythe’s room.
“Figure it out yourself, Ellis. Stop expecting us to handle everything.”
I didn’t ask again.
I pulled my train ticket from my pocket. Riverton. 3:07 p.m.
Blythe’s first-class flight had been booked a month ago.
Mom and Dad were flying to Kingsport with her, helping her settle into school before spending a couple of days sightseeing.
I’d paid for my own ticket with money from my summer job at a bubble tea shop.
No one asked how much it cost. No one asked when it left.
By the time Blythe’s luggage was loaded, the trunk was packed tight.
Dad dusted off his hands.
“Let’s go. We don’t want to be late for the airport.”
Then Mom remembered something. She glanced back at me.
“Ellis, you’ve got your house key, right? Lock up when you leave. And don’t forget to turn off the gas.”
“And Blythe’s window is open. Close it this afternoon.”
I nodded, without saying a word.
Blythe rolled her carry-on past me. Her steps were light.
She stopped at the front door and turned around. “Ellis.”
I looked up.
She hesitated for a second, like she wanted to say something.
Then Mom honked from downstairs.
“Text me when you get there.”
She turned and hurried away.
The front door closed softly.
The engine started just as quietly.
Then the whole house fell silent.
All that was left was the steady ticking of the living room clock.
I stood in the entryway, staring at the empty spaces by the door.
Dad’s dress shoes, Mom’s heels, Blythe’s white sneakers—all neatly absent.
My worn canvas sneakers huddled alone on the bottom rack, next to a dusty umbrella.
When I went upstairs to close Blythe’s window, my eyes landed on the wall above her desk.
It was covered with framed certificates and awards.
Honor Roll certificates, academic achievement awards, and math competition trophies filled every available space.
A family portrait sat in the middle of her desk. It had been taken on Christmas.
Mom and Dad sat in the center. Blythe stood behind Mom, smiling brightly.
I wasn’t in the picture. I’d been washing dishes in the kitchen that day.
Mom had shrugged afterward.
“It’s just one photo. Besides, you weren’t dressed very nicely.”
“If we had taken one, it wouldn’t have looked good anyway.”
I closed the window and stood there for a while.
A crumpled sheet of paper stuck out of the trash can in the corner.
I picked it up and unfolded it.
It was a copy of the graduation party expense sheet.
Mom’s handwriting covered the page.
The last line read: [Any gifts received at Ellis’s graduation party should be listed under Blythe’s name. Everything was supposed to go to Blythe]
I read it twice.
Everything was supposed to go to Blythe.
Relatives had given me gifts that day, too.
Aunt Margo handed me a thousand dollars and congratulated me on getting into Stanton University.
Uncle Ray also slipped me a thousand and patted my shoulder.
“You’ve done us proud, Sweetie.”
Every dollar had been credited to Blythe.
I folded the paper carefully and slipped it into my pocket.
Not as evidence. As a reminder—don’t come back.
I returned to my room and opened my desk drawer.
My Stanton University acceptance letter was still there.
The envelope had never been opened.
I tore it open. Read every word.
There was my name. The seal stood out against the page.
Forty days. This was the first time anyone had opened it.
I slipped the letter into my backpack and zipped it shut.
Then I looked around my room one last time.
I left the textbooks on the shelf.
I left the old winter coat Blythe had handed down to me.
I left the Honor Roll certificate hanging beneath her awards.
I only packed what belonged to me.
At noon, I took a cab and headed for the train station.
A message from Mom had arrived two hours earlier.
[We’re at the airport. Blythe’s luggage was eleven pounds overweight. Cost us an extra two hundred. We’ll take it out of the household budget.]
I didn’t reply.
The station was crowded. The line at the gate stretched way back.
I wheeled my suitcase to the back.
Ahead of me, a girl hugged her mother.
Her mom wiped away tears while stuffing snacks into her backpack.
“Find your dorm first thing. If the blanket’s not warm enough, just buy a new one. I’ll send you money—don’t skimp.”
“I know, I know.”
The girl laughed and nudged her away.
“Stop crying. My friends are watching.”
I looked away.
After I boarded the train, I found my window seat in coach.
As the train pulled out of the station, the platform slowly slipped out of view.
My phone lit up again. This time it was Blythe.
[Ellis, have you left yet? Text us when you get there, okay?]
I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I opened my contacts and scrolled to Dad, Mom, Blythe.
My finger hovered over the delete button.
I didn’t press it. Not yet.
I turned my phone face down on my lap and closed my eyes.
The train rolled south, the view shifting frame by frame outside the window.
But I didn’t want to watch anymore.