Even My Sister’s Dogs Were Let In, But I Was Left Outside

1: 1

Mom and Dad moved into a new house. The smart lock was set to recognize the faces of both dogs, but somehow it skipped mine, their own biological daughter.

I went downstairs to walk the dog and came back to find I couldn't get in.

I called my mother. She sounded irritated.

"Aren't the dogs right there? Both of them can get in. Just pick one up and hold it to the scanner."

I hauled up the fifty-pound golden retriever with a grunt, and sure enough, the lock clicked open.

I was worth less than a dog.

Once the door was open, the hurt spilled out of me.

"Can't you register my face too?"

Her face darkened. "It only holds five faces. If you take one, what happens when Scarlett Sullivan comes home?"

I'd almost forgotten. I had a precious little sister living overseas.

"She hasn't been home in years..."

I tried for a compromise. "Then just delete one of the dogs."

My father flared up instantly. "Scarlett bought those dogs. If she comes home and they can't get through the door, she'll be heartbroken."

"You ungrateful thing. Not seeing Scarlett is already killing us, and here you are twisting the knife! At least the dogs know how to make people happy."

He snatched the leash out of my hand and slammed the door in anger.

I stood there watching the little screen on the lock, the way it kept mechanically flashing the same two words: Unknown person.

I thought, fine. If the door won't let me in, I won't go in.

1

The motion-sensor light in the stairwell had gone dark long ago, leaving nothing but the black closing in around me.

The family group chat, silent for so long, suddenly came alive.

My sister Scarlett, all the way overseas, sent a message.

"Mom, I'm at the airport already. I'll be home tomorrow."

My mother posted a video of the new bedroom within seconds.

A wide, bright master bedroom, every piece of furniture brand-new and custom-made, top of the line.

An enormous closet packed full with the season's newest dresses.

"Our little princess's room is all ready. Everything's the best of the best. We're just waiting for our baby girl to come home."

My father followed right after.

His was the private little nook for the family's two golden retrievers, right next to Scarlett's bedroom.

Soft cushions, toys, treats, all arranged in neat rows, cozy and lovingly done.

"The dogs' room, right beside your bedroom."

Watching all that warmth on the screen, something sat in my chest like a wet, heavy towel.

Back in the old apartment, I'd slept on a mat on the living room floor every single day.

When we moved into this spacious new place, I thought I'd finally have a room of my own.

Instead they'd given each of the two dogs its own room, and left me a mat on the floor of the storage closet.

Nobody remembered that I was a daughter of this family too.

The next second, my boyfriend Fergus Gilbert's familiar profile picture popped up.

"Welcome home, Scarlett. I'll come to the airport with everyone to pick you up tomorrow."

I opened our chat.

Half an hour earlier, I'd been crouched by the door, aching with it.

"The new place's lock has the dogs' faces registered but not mine. I'm locked out and can't get in."

No reply.

Scrolling further up, the whole chat was a solid column of green. Every message was me, talking to myself.

The last time he'd answered me was half a month ago.

The group chat was still buzzing, and no one spared a thought for me, forgotten out here in the stairwell.

I knocked three times. Not one person answered.

"Tomorrow the whole family's going to the airport to welcome our little princess home."

The light leaking from the window went out.

I curled up alone in front of the door, the stairwell black and dead silent.

The fear and the hurt kept rising up in me, layer over layer.

I opened Fergus's chat and typed with shaking hands.

"Fergus, I'm so cold, and a little scared. Could I stay at your place for the night?"

The same man who'd answered my sister in the group chat within seconds ignored my plea for help all over again.

A dense, pinprick ache spread through my chest.

I buried my head against my knees and pressed down the sting behind my eyes.

I counted the time, minute by minute, second by second, until at last it was dawn.

Through the thick door I could hear my mother clearly, humming a cheerful little tune.

My father murmuring to the dogs.

"Your big sister's coming home today. Aren't you happy?"

They finished getting ready, and when they pulled the door open they finally saw the miserable state of me.

None of the guilt or remorse I'd imagined. Instead they came down on me with a barrage of blame.

"Your sister's about to land and you're crouched at the door not even changed. What kind of look is that?"

My father's face went livid.

"Are you doing this on purpose? Making sure your sister doesn't feel welcome?"

"You cold, heartless thing. Selfish since the day you were born, always keeping everything for yourself, can't even stand your own sister!"

I'd crouched too long. My hands and feet had gone numb and swollen.

I braced myself against the floor and tried for a long time before I could slowly get up.

"You locked me out last night. No lock access, I couldn't get in."

My mother's eyes stalled for a moment, a flicker of guilt crossing them.

She turned her face away and waved a hand, impatient.

"Don't make excuses. Get in there and pack, don't hold us up going to get your sister!"

Not one of them cared how I'd gotten through the night.

I opened the email on my phone.

One message I'd left sitting there for a long time was still lying quietly in the inbox.

An invitation to a three-year posting with the Antarctic research expedition.

Harsh conditions, thousands of miles from home, three full years once you went.

Before, I'd clung to that thin scrap of family affection, and I'd hesitated again and again.

Now, I answered in earnest.

"I'm in. I'll report on time."

From this day on, I would stop waiting for your love to arrive.