Chapter 2 - MADISON ALWAYS GOT THE BOW
In my family, Madison never stole anything.
Things simply became hers.
The bigger bedroom.
My graduation necklace.
The college fund Mom said I “didn’t need as much” because I had scholarships.
The attention at my engagement party, even though I was the one getting engaged.
Madison did not ask.
She expected.
And my parents treated expectation like destiny.
I was the practical daughter.
The older one.
The responsible one.
The one who understood.
That was the word Mom used whenever I was expected to give something up.
“Claire understands.”
Claire understood when Madison crashed my car at nineteen and Dad told me not to press charges against “your own sister.”
Claire understood when Mom used my credit card for Madison’s bridesmaid dresses and promised reimbursement that never came.
Claire understood when Madison announced her vineyard wedding budget had tripled and Dad asked if I could “help bridge a family gap.”
I said no.
Not because I could not afford some help.
Because help in my family was never a bridge.
It was a road they expected to keep driving on.
My Lexus was the first expensive thing I had bought entirely for myself.
A black Lexus RX.
Not flashy by celebrity standards.
But to me, it meant survival.
I bought it after two years of working insane hours as a commercial insurance analyst, saving bonus checks, and finally paying off the last debt from my divorce.
Dad had mocked it at first.
“Bit much for one woman.”
Madison said:
“It’s giving midlife crisis.”
I was twenty-nine.
Mom said:
“Don’t bring it to wedding events. It’ll make Madison feel like you’re showing off.”
That should have warned me.
But I still drove it to the vineyard because the wedding was three hours away, and I was not renting a car to protect my sister’s feelings from my own property.
The week before the wedding, Dad asked to borrow the spare key “in case valet needed to move it during the rehearsal dinner.”
I said no.
He looked insulted.
“Claire, it’s a key.”
“No.”
Madison overheard and rolled her eyes.
“You act like everyone wants your car.”
I almost laughed.
Because yes.
Apparently they did.
By the time Dad raised that key fob at the reception, I knew one thing immediately.
May you like
He had not borrowed it.
He had taken it.
