I Worked Ten Jobs While My Sister Lived Like a Queen

1: 1

The SATs were over, and Mom sat there with her notebook, running the numbers.

Four years of tuition and fees comes to a hundred thousand. At market rates, the two of you should be able to work at least ten jobs over these two months.

My sister and I both smiled, thin and bitter.

Mom believed in self-reliance as a parenting method.

Wanted spending money?

Earn it.

Fifty-two cents a load of dishes.

A dollar sixty a floor mopped.

Even the time I ran a high fever and landed in the hospital, Mom fronted the medical bill, then made us pay it back in installments once we recovered.

To scrape together our tuition, my sister and I were out from four in the morning until midnight. Ten jobs a day.

Every time we crossed paths, both of us dragging our exhausted bodies home, she would choke up.

"Angie, I'm so tired."

I made myself a quiet promise: I would take her with me and get us both out of this family.

But that day, I got a delivery order to an upscale gated community.

I'd just raised my hand to knock when I heard Mom's and Margot Finch's voices coming from inside.

"Angie actually thinks I'm out running deliveries too. Can you believe it? A hundred and four degrees out and I'm at home in the AC!"

"Hide it well. Don't let her find out. And that paycheck of hers this month, is it enough for your trip?"

Clack.

The takeout hit the floor.

And my heart dropped right along with it.

Margot's footsteps came closer.

"Mom, the food's here."

The door opened, and I slipped sideways into the stairwell.

A face I knew.

Margot picked up the bag, the hem of her pure white nightgown trailing lace.

I'd seen that nightgown while running deliveries at the mall.

Three thousand dollars, after the discount.

I looked down at myself, at the yellow T-shirt plastered tight against my sweat-soaked skin.

"Weird. Where's the delivery guy?"

Margot muttered it and shut the door without a second thought.

A second later, my phone buzzed with a message from her.

"Angie, have you eaten?"

"It's so hot and I'm so tired. I think I'm getting heatstroke."

Inside, Mom's voice came through clear.

"Sweetie, go wash your hands, dinner's ready."

"Don't forget to keep up the act with her."

Margot laughed.

"Relax, Mom, my acting's top-notch."

My thumbs paused over the screen.

"Not yet."

"I think I've got heatstroke too."

A hundred and four degrees, six hours without a break.

Twelve flights of stairs climbed in one go.

I really did have heatstroke.

"Ha, Angie says she's getting heatstroke."

"She'd never guess I'm sitting in the AC drinking boba right now. So comfy!"

There was a smug lift in Margot's voice.

I wiped the cold sweat from my temple and couldn't stand to hear any more.

On unsteady legs, I fled.

A photo popped up on my phone.

Plain bread and pickles.

Margot's messages kept coming.

"Angie, I really don't want to keep gnawing on bread, but for our future, I'll work hard and save up."

But what she'd just carried inside was a nine-hundred-dollar salmon combo meal.

When I'd picked it up, I'd even let a little private glee slip out to the sushi place's owner: nine dollars for delivery meant today's food money was covered.

Margot sent another.

"Angie, I'm heading back out to deliver! Let's both keep at it!"

The photo attached showed someone riding an e-bike.

My hands shaking, I ran a reverse image search on it, along with that photo of the bread from before.

Dozens of identical photos came up.

Still not willing to believe it, I searched the construction site photo she'd sent yesterday.

The restaurant kitchen from the day before, the convenience store, the underground mall...

It wasn't until the secondhand-market flip-phone in my hand started overheating and lagging that I finally gave up.

So all of it. All those signs of hard labor that had broken my heart, they were stolen photos.

The world spun.

My legs buckled, and I went down with the e-bike, the whole of me crashing to the ground.

A crowd gathered around me fast.

Someone used my phone to reach Mom.

"Your daughter's got heat hey, she hung up."

They called again. It wouldn't connect.

Someone wanted to take me to the hospital.

I bit down on the tip of my tongue.

"Not the hospital... take me... to the neighborhood delivery depot..."

The words were barely out before I couldn't hold on any longer, and everything went black.

I passed out cold.

"You're awake."

Alison Lawrence's voice reached me, startled and glad at once.

"You got heatstroke, and your blood sugar crashed with it. I got the medicine into you. Rest up, and tomorrow you'll"

She stopped halfway.

Because she saw me struggling to sit up, to get to my next job.

"Alison, thank God you were here. The hospital's too expensive. I can't afford to go."

"You should be resting right now!"

My lips pressed into a flat line.

"Alison, you know how it is. I need the money."

My legs were weak, but I kept walking toward the door.

"Stop right there!"

Alison's voice was urgent.

"If you keep working today, you're going to pass out again!"

"You're only eighteen! You'll ruin your health!"

"Two hundred. I'll give you two hundred dollars, just rest for half a day. Come on, sweetheart, listen to me..."

The other riders had crowded around too.

"Kiddo, I'll give you fifty, just stop running for today."

"I just got a ten-dollar tip, it's all yours. You're the baby of this depot, we can't have anything happening to you!"

My eyes stung.

My shoulders sank.

My hand gripped the phone tight.

Kindness from strangers, coming in like a tide.

And my mother, from start to finish, hadn't given me a single word.

2: 2

I didn't take the money.

But I listened to what everyone told me.

I cleared it with Manager Cruz first, and for the first time I came home before midnight.

My mother sat on the couch, a smile that wasn't a smile on her face.

"You're back."

"Mm."

"Your sister's still out working."

There was weight in the way she said it.

I took out my phone and started a video call.

Her face changed.

No surprise, my sister rejected it the instant it rang.

But before that, my mother snatched the phone right out of my hand.

"Your sister's playing gam working! How can you bother her?"

I smiled.

"It's hot today. I just wanted to ask if she got heatstroke."

"You think everyone's as precious about themselves as you are."

"Don't say I didn't warn you. If your tuition comes up short later, don't come asking me for it."

She curled her lip.

For as long as I could remember, she'd worn this same cold face to tell my sister and me that whatever we wanted, we'd have to earn ourselves.

But everything that had happened today left me a little dazed.

My sister still came back late.

Her clothes were dirty and worn, her face tired.

But the clean, fresh scent on her gave away the fact that she hadn't been out working at all.

My mother was still going on.

"Don't think I'm heartless. Someday you'll thank me for this."

My sister answered meekly.

"I know, Mom."

I answered too.

"I know, Mom. I'll work hard."

But at the same time, every company I worked for got a message from me

"I'm taking tomorrow off."

I followed my mother and sister the whole day.

Arm in arm, they went shopping, got facials, and even went to the cat caf I'd been wanting to visit for so long.

At last they spent a long time at some luxury counter.

When they came out, there was a glittering bracelet on my sister's wrist.

I stopped following and went into the store.

"That bracelet they just boughthow much was it?"

The clerk smiled brightly.

"Twenty thousand."

I set it down, embarrassed.

It was something I wouldn't dare touch even if I worked ten jobs.

Back home, my sister's clothes were still dirty, her face still tired.

But her wrist kept flashing that harsh, brilliant light.

Seeing me stare at the bracelet, my mother pressed out a smile.

"It's plastic. I got it off a street stall."

"I like it too. Could you buy me one?"

The smile froze on her face.

"I'm joking."

I quickly took it back.

"Good."

Her relief wasn't an act.

"Your first month's pay should be coming soon. If I've got it right, it's twenty thousand."

I went still for a moment.

"I'll hold on to it for you."

"You're still too young. I'll use the money for investments. When you're grown, I'll give it to you."

My sister leaned in.

"Sis, I give all my pay to Mom too. Haven't we always done it this way?"

Yes. We always had.

And it was only today that I understood where all the money I'd kept with her had gonethe scholarships, the wages from my jobs, the holiday money I'd been given.

My thoughts went back to the counter.

"That little girl's an influencer. Money's no object for hershe even asked me to follow her."

"What's the account?"

The clerk gave me my sister's handle.

The life she shared was one I'd never seen.

A pink, soft bedroom.

Elegant afternoon teas.

Designer bags.

And her little girlish confessions.

Like the one she posted not long after leaving the counter.

"Lost my perfect-attendance bonus this month, so I could only get this twenty-thousand necklace. Ugh, such a shame. I really wanted the twenty-six-thousand one."

Someone commented:

"Your sister's so good to you."

She replied at once.

"Always has been. All my sister's money gets spent on me."

Only then did I understand that all my money had gone to my sister, spent by my mother.

And now they were planning the exact same thing.

My clenched hand trembled.

"Okay. The pay hasn't come in yet. Give me a few days and I'll transfer it to you."

"Mom."

Mother and daughter exchanged a satisfied look.

3: 3

I spent the whole night on my sister's account.

By the time I got to the delivery depot the next morning, the shadows under my eyes were too dark to hide.

Alison startled at the sight of me.

I waved it off.

Didn't sleep well.

Alison let out a breath and pulled a small cake out from behind her back.

From Clint Chavez, Alison's husband, and me. We all chipped in.

It's a tradition here at the depot. When it's your birthday, you get cake.

A little pink cake with a single cherry on top.

The first birthday cake of my life.

When I just stood there, Alison pressed her lips together.

You don't like it? I guess it's not real whipped cream, and you young girls might not want that kind. It's fine, we cooked you a birthday bowl of noodles too, we can just forget about the cake...

She was tripping over her words.

But I threw my arms around her.

No, Alison. It's not that.

I just never thought anyone would remember my birthday.

Only then did Alison smile.

It's on your file. We saw it, so we remembered.

I wiped at my eyes.

The truth was, even I had forgotten my own birthday.

When we were little, my sister and I wanted to have birthdays like other kids did.

But our mother said it took a whole year of washing dishes to earn one birthday cake.

My sister and I backed down.

And over time, neither of us brought up birthdays again.

Just then my phone buzzed with a notification.

My sister's post popped up.

The best 18th.

So many girls, so many gifts.

She sat right in the center, several cakes in front of her, an enormous bouquet behind her.

Her eyes were closed, making a wish.

The photo was a live one, and when it played, our mother's voice came through in the background, crystal clear.

Happy birthday, sweetheart. Mommy will always love you.

I remembered how my sister once said she wanted a coming-of-age party with lots of friends there, lots of gifts and flowers.

She wanted to be the only princess that day.

Back then I'd laughed and flicked her forehead.

Keep dreaming. We don't even have our college tuition figured out yet.

She'd given me a look then, one with something behind it.

Maybe. You never know.

I couldn't read what was in her eyes back then.

But now I understood.

It was pity. It was mockery. It was scorn.

I covered my mouth and laughed.

Just laughed, and then, all at once, the tears came down in big drops.

Alison scrambled to wipe them away.

It's just a little surprise, it's nothing. Don't cry.

I've just figured a few things out.

Alison, can I borrow the depot computer for a minute?

I didn't call my mother to have it out with her.

But she called me, like she had a guilty conscience.

It's your birthday today.

Mm.

You can afford it now. You could buy yourself a little cake.

I was quiet for a long time before I answered.

Did my sister have cake?

My mother didn't hesitate.

No.

Okay.

I did a lot of things that birthday.

I ate the cake Alison gave me.

I went home for the household record and moved my residency out.

I went to every place I worked and quit.

By the time all of that was done, it wasn't even six in the evening.

I drifted through the town square.

The square was lively at night.

I'd only ever passed through it a few times on deliveries.

My eyes settled on a family of three, laughing and roughhousing.

I stood there watching them for a long while.

Until a voice broke it.

Angie?

I turned toward it, and something like panic flashed across my sister's face.

She quickly let go of the arm she'd been holding, our mother's.

She was still wearing a princess dress.

I understood then. Calling out to me had been a slip.

Why are you dressed like that?

My sister stammered for a long moment.

It was our mother who covered for her.

She took a side gig. Modeling.

I nodded.

What are you doing here?

I quit my jobs.

My voice was perfectly calm.

Like I was telling them something completely ordinary.

What?

They demanded it at the same time, both of them loud.

Mm. I quit.

All of them?

Yes. All of them.

The next second, a hand came at me hard and fast.

A burning sting spread across my cheek.

People passing through the square stopped to look.

I held my face and looked up into my mother's eyes, full of fury.

Angela Finch, you think you're all grown up now?

4: 4

Aren't you going to ask me why I quit?

I held my mother's eyes and didn't look away.

Whatever the reason, you don't just quit. What's your sister supposed to do then?

She paused.

Your father died young. From the time you were little I taught you both that you can only rely on yourselves, that a person has to stand on her own two feet. And here you are, the older sister, setting no example at all for her.

Margot wore the same put-upon look.

Angie, I'm out there running myself ragged, and you just quit and do nothing. That's not right.

I turned to look at her.

She glanced away, guilty.

I was being harassed.

My voice came out soft.

My mother visibly choked on whatever she'd been about to say.

Manager Kaufman at the Jade Pavilion told me to become his mistress. Quitting was the only thing I could do.

He said he'd make sure I couldn't hold on to a single one of my jobs.

I wasn't lying.

Even so

Her brow knit tight.

Even so, there's always a way to work it out.

What way?

I don't know. Figure it out yourself.

I dragged out a smile.

Of course. Even with something like this, my mother wanted me to fend for myself.

If nothing else, go apologize to him. Kneel down in front of the whole store. For the sake of appearances, he won't make things hard for you.

Even after I'd given up on her, hearing that still made something inside me clench.

And anyway, why is he only harassing you and not anyone else?

Your sister's never run into anything like that.

It's because your sister is more honest and well-behaved than you, that's why.

Beside her, Margot nodded along in agreement.

I laughed, all at once.

I heard my own voice, calm and clean.

I said: All right. I'll go apologize.

Oh, and your sister and I are going out. You'd better have your job back by the time we're home.

There was a warning buried in my mother's voice.

Back home, the two of them started packing.

So did I.

Margot's things filled a full twenty-eight-inch suitcase.

The day they left, I had my own bag packed too.

A single backpack.

Before the airport, I stopped by the food-delivery depot first.

Alison's face lit up when she saw me.

Angie, I'll come visit you in Ashford one day.

I shook my head and held up the ticket on my phone.

Not Ashford. Hartwell.

Why? Didn't you say you wanted to go work in your college town early, get used to it? Isn't your school Ashford University?

I changed my choice. Not Ashford anymore. Hartwell University.

Ashford University was Margot's dream.

I used to think we'd be in the same city, at the same school.

Two little sufferers leaning on each other through the rest of our lives.

But I'd changed my mind.

The moment I locked in Hartwell, I knew I would be saying goodbye to this family for good.

Hartwell was two thousand miles away, after all.

You can come to Hartwell to visit me.

Alison said yes, over and over.

In the end, she pulled me into a hug.

Faintly scented, and warm.

The kind of hug I'd always imagined a mother giving.

The last call before I left home came from an insurance company.

The agent told me my mother had taken out a large policy on my life.

My hand froze at the check-in counter.

I'll admit it. In that moment, I wavered.

Then the voice on the line went on.

The beneficiary is your sister, Margot Finch.

My breath stopped.

Into the phone I said, Fine.

I took my boarding pass without a second's hesitation.

And walked away with long strides, not once looking back.

On my way to the gate, I passed my mother and sister.

I had a mask on. They didn't recognize me.

Margot tugged at our mother's sleeve, smiling like it was all so innocent.

Thank you for my back-to-school present, Mom. The Maldives, here I come!

Our mother ruffled her hair.

You deserve it.

After a moment, something seemed to occur to her, and she opened her mouth.

Oh, right your sister's home alone. Maybe give her a call.

The next instant, my phone rang.

The two of them turned, and for one bare moment, their eyes met mine.