The Scapegoat Daughter Survives

It had been eight years since I cut ties with my mother, and of course, we ran into each other in the one place I thought I was safe: The Butter & Bloom Bakery on the west side. She was there to pick up a cake for my sister, Willa. I was the one behind the counter, an employee.

After a long, brittle silence, she spoke first. Her voice was layered with a complexity I didnt care to decode. Eight years away from your father and me, and this is how youve ended up? Her eyes were red-rimmed, but the emotion behind thempity, guilt, disapprovalwas deliberately unreadable to me.

I didn't answer. I just kept my head down, finished packaging the Lemon Raspberry layer cake, and pushed it across the counter. She stared at the box, her fingers hovering over it as if it might be poisoned. I eventually just pressed the box into her hands and turned away to call the next customer.

But she wasn't finished. She moved closer, dropping her voice, though the edge of accusation was sharp enough to carry. Dont you have anything to say to me? I am your mother, Audrey.

I stopped ringing up a dozen macaroons and looked at her, genuinely confused. What was there to say? She was the one who, years ago, had formally forbidden me from using that wordMom. I hadn't been that desperate little girl craving her affection for a long, long time.

1

The tension was thick, an awkward, sour contrast to the sweet, buttery smell of the shop. Other patrons were beginning to watch.

The silence was broken by my father, Arthur. He walked in, looking flustered. Is Willas cake ready yet? He spotted me, and the reaction was immediate: his eyes went wide, and this fifty-something-year-old man, a renowned expert in human behavior, teared up right there in public. He reached for my hand. Audrey, why haven't you reached out to us all these years? Do you have any idea how much your mother and I have missed you?

I shifted back, avoiding his touch. My voice was level, almost unnervingly calm. If you don't have business here, please don't interrupt my work. I have other customers waiting.

Something in my composure must have enraged my mother. Her face went dark. Just as she was about to launch into a full-scale public dressing-down, her phone rang. I saw Willas name flash on the screen. Vivian immediately turned her back to me, adopting a completely different, syrupy tone. Mom, where's my cake? Willa whined. Almost there, sweetie. Just wait a minute for Mommy.

She hung up and instinctively started her usual monologue, the one Id heard a thousand times. You know how your sister is, she loves sweets, still a child at heart, even at her age. Not like you, who was always so

I cut her off. Enough.

She froze, the rest of her sentence dying in her throat. The shock on her face was satisfying. The old Audreythe desperate girlwould have never interrupted. She would have hung on every word, even the insults, just for the chance of prolonging the interaction, the hope of a crumb of attention.

I genuinely have work to do, I stated, meeting her astonished gaze head-on. I don't have time for a reunion. So, could you please leave? You're disrupting my business.

Vivian started to object, but my father pulled her back. He pasted a practiced, warm smile on his face. You go ahead and work, sweetie. We'll come back later.

Don't bother, I rejected instantly. Then I added the one line that would always work: And please, make sure Willa doesn't find out you came to see me. We wouldnt want her anxiety to flare up again, would we?

The color drained from both their faces. Willa called again, her impatient voice audible even from where I stood. Finally, my parents retreated. They walked backward more than they walked forward, taking multiple backward glances, a faint, almost invisible flicker of somethingregret? desperation?crossing their eyes before they finally disappeared.

Once they were gone, the professional calm shattered. My fingers were white where they gripped the edge of the counter, and the cloying sweetness of the surrounding cakes was suddenly sickening, almost like acid.

It wasn't until noon that Regina, my boss, returned from her supply run, her arms overflowing with bulk bags of flour and specialty cocoa. I started to move to help her, but she waved me away. You've been on your feet all morning, sweetie. Go take a break. Besides, I know about your back. I can handle a few sacks of sugar.

I froze. Only then did the dull ache in my lower back register. Id been running on pure adrenaline all morning, but now the pain was a sharp, clear presence. It was an old injury, a souvenir from a night years ago. Id lived with the constant throb for so long, I usually forgot it was even there.

Regina finished unpacking and noticed me sitting in the corner, staring at the floor. She walked over, smiling warmly. What is it, kiddo? What's going on? I snapped out of it, offering her a practiced, easy smile. Nothing. Just tired.

Skylar, my co-worker and friend, immediately came over, wiping flour dust off her apron. Tired? Please. Were those two a hassle earlier? I was in the back, but I saw your face shift.

Regina immediately tensed. What couple? Who was it? Skylar shrugged. I don't know, but they looked vaguely familiar.

Regina, her curiosity piqued, pulled out her phone and rewound the security footage. The moment she got a clear look at Vivian, she gasped, loudly. Oh my God, thats Vivian Shaw! The Georgetown professor? I've seen her interviews; shes huge in educational theory. And her husband is Arthur Shaw, the renowned family psychologist. Theyre a power couple!

Theyre famous for how devoted they are to their daughters, Regina went on. They raised the perfect younger daughter.

Younger daughter? Skylar prompted. What about the older one? Regina shook her head, unable to recall. She then looked back at me, her eyes wide with confusion. Audrey, do you know them? That whole scene looked personal.

I looked at both of them, my voice flat and completely devoid of emotion. I am their older daughter. The sentence hung there. The one they saw as a disgracethe aggressor who supposedly preyed on her fragile sister, the villain who tried to kidnap the golden child.

Regina and Skylar were speechless, their jaws actually slack. Eventually, their shock morphed into an urgent, quiet curiosity. They pressed me for the story, and I found myselffor the first timereciting my childhood as if it were a detached piece of fiction.

Once, I had the kind of parents everyone envied. They treated me like a princess in a fairytale. I mentioned wanting to see the Northern Lights, and they canceled meetings to take me to Iceland. My father gave up a huge opportunity at a high-ranking private university to stay close to home, just so he could be more present.

Even after Willa was bornthe sweet, sickly younger sister who cried through the night with feverstheir attention never completely wavered. Theyd rock her, then sneak into my room, pulling me into their arms. I was an easy kid, always trying to help. I carried Willas backpack, defended her from playground bullies, and split my candy haul with her. For years, they managed to keep the balance. We had two of everything: identical rooms, clothes, toys. Everyone praised them for their enlightened, balanced approach to parenting.

The happiness ended when Willa turned eight. They took her for a full medical workup, and when they came back, their faces were grave. My mother, eyes red, pulled me close. Audrey, she murmured, stroking my hair, Willa is fragile. From now on, you have to let her have her way, alright? My father nodded seriously. She cant handle stress. You're the older sister; you have to take care of her.

I didn't understand what fragile truly meant, but I knew what it meant to be a good sister. I nodded enthusiastically. I will. I didn't know that those two wordsI willwere the beginning of my total erasure.

My sunny bedroom was converted into Willas solarium because she needed more light. My beloved upright piano was hauled into a dusty storage unit because the sound disturbed Willa's rest. For my next birthday, when I asked for college prep books, they brushed me off, saying they needed to prioritize Willas imported health supplements. Well get yours later, they promised.

But later never came.

Skylar and Regina were listening with furious intensity. Even if she was fragile, they shouldnt have done that to you! Skylar hissed. What happened to the balanced parenting? And what about your sister? How did she treat you?

With my parents new attitude as permission, Willa became bolder. Shed deliberately spill milk on my research papers, then sob to my parents that I had pushed her. She'd sneak spicy food, get sick, and claim I had given it to her. At first, they'd ask for my side, but soon, they stopped asking altogether. It was easier to assume the narrative: I was the insensitive, difficult sister who bullied the poor, fragile Willa.

Audrey, shes fragile. Cant you just be the bigger person? my father would lecture. Willa is sick, you need to be mature and stop provoking her. Id try to explain, but my words would inevitably be drowned out by Willas immediate, hysterical tears. My parents would just frown, tell me to shut up, and pull her into their arms, leaving me standing thereirrelevant, an obstruction. I became the ghost in my own house. Be the bigger person became the family motto.

Then came Willas ninth birthday. I'd bought her a graphic novel with my allowance, and shed been thrilled. She suggested a game of hide-and-seek. I agreed, delighted that she finally wanted to play with me. But she vanished. I searched for her all daynothing.

When my parents realized she was gone, they went hysterical. My motherViviangrabbed my shoulders, squeezing so hard I was crying, but she didnt let go. Audrey Shaw! Where is Willa?! she shrieked. I told her the truth, that Willa wanted to play a game, but she didn't believe me. She slapped me, hard, full force, until my ears rang, and then dragged me into a spare room, throwing me down.

I landed hard. I heard a sickening crack from my lower back, and the pain stole my breath. Vivian locked the door. You ungrateful child! You must be jealous! You hid her! If she isnt back by morning, you won't get food or water, you hear me? My father stood by the door, watching the entire thing with cold, detached eyes.

As night fell, I lay paralyzed on the floor. The pain was so intense it eclipsed the hunger. Just as my consciousness began to fade, I heard Willas voice from outside the door. Her voice was weak, terrified. Mommy, Audrey said she was going to abandon me so you could only love her! I was so scared, but I ran back as fast as I could! I heard my mother hugging her, calling her sweet angel, promising to handle your sister. My father's voice was filled with relief and manufactured outrage. They shut the front door, leaving me in the cold, locked room.

I don't know when I passed out. I woke to my parents' screaming. They rushed me to the ER. The doctor was furious, holding up my X-rays. A fractured lumbar vertebra, severe hypothermia, high fever. What did you people do to this child? Any later, and the damage would have been irreversible.

My parents didn't hear him. They had barely settled me when Willa started wailing from the hallway: Daddy, Mommy, I was suffocating in that closet! Thinking Audrey would leave me made me tremble! They abandoned my bedside instantly, running to comfort her. They put Willa through a full battery of tests, eventually coming back with a mild anxiety disorder diagnosis, which they immediately upgraded to Severe Clinical Depression.

My mother stormed into my hospital room, pointing a trembling finger at me. Audrey Shaw! Are you satisfied now? You scared your sister so badly she developed a serious mental illness! How could you be so wicked? Lying there, battered and broken, listening to their self-righteous accusation, my heart didn't just break; it froze solid.

When I was discharged, my parents took Willa and moved across the state, claiming Willas safety required it. They left me in the empty house. My mother tossed a few hundred dollars on the table. Don't contact us, and don't ever try to hurt Willa again. We'll pay your tuition directly, nothing else. Figure the rest out. They left without a backward glance.

This became my life. Working nights to survive, studying during the day, all while managing the constant ache in my back. After graduation, I had respectable scores. I felt a surge of hopeI could escape them now. I applied to a college that fit my interests. But shortly after, my parents called, the first time in months.

You applied to the State University? Who gave you permission? My mother snapped. Change it immediately. Willa is here, and you know she cant handle stress. You'll just be an unnecessary disruption.

My father cut in, his voice all business. We've already called your counselor. We are your parents; we have the right to make decisions for your future.

I was forced to change my application to a random, unresearched major. I missed the cutoff entirely. No college acceptance. Meanwhile, Willa was being sent to a prestigious European university, money no object, all to stabilize her emotional state.

I took my meager savings and bought a bus ticket. I needed to know why. I found them in an exclusive downtown bistro I could never afford to walk past. They were celebrating Willa's acceptance letter, cutting a ridiculously expensive cake. She was wearing a designer dress; they were radiating pride and adoration.

Every suppressed feeling exploded. I ran to their table. What did I do to deserve this? Why did you ruin my life?

The moment Willa saw me, her face turned paper white. She squeezed her eyes shut, did a dramatic, slow collapse against my mother, whispering, I'm so scared... don't come near me

My parents went into full panic mode. Vivian shoved me backward. Arthurs hand connected hard with my cheek. Get out! Get the hell out of here, Audrey! Vivian clung to Willa, her eyes burning with pure hatred. We don't have a daughter like you! You've always tormented her! From this moment on, we cut you off. We are done. Don't ever contact us again!

A crowd gathered, their eyes full of judgment. Look at that girl, assaulting her sister. She looks thin, but her heart is wicked. The stares were needles. I watched them rush Willa out, frantic, towards the hospital. No one spared me a second glance.

Back in the bakery, the silence was deafening. Skylar and Regina were openly weeping. I smiled faintly. It's over now. I don't have a family anymore. After that, they sold the house, drained whatever money I had left, and cut off contact. I had no degree, no home, and a bad back. Regina hired me. That's how I survived.

Skylar was stomping her foot, furious. Theyre phonies! That renowned psychologist and professor are absolute frauds!

If they ever show their faces here again, Ill handle them, Regina vowed. I'll bake them a special cakeone so sweet it makes them sick!

Just as the words left her mouth, the bell above the glass door chimed. I looked up. My parents stood there, holding a thermal container. And right between them, linked to Vivians arm, was Willa.

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