She looked up at me then.
For a second, she looked like the sister I used to know.
The one who painted my nails badly when I was seven.
The one who taught me how to braid my hair.
The one who once gave me her last five dollars at the county fair so I could ride the Ferris wheel.
Then she looked away.
“Mom said you had room.”
“Mom also said I could easily take out private student loans after she drained my college fund.”
Elowen closed her eyes.
“I didn’t know she was taking all of it.”
I stared at her.
That sentence had lived in my head for months before she ever said it.
I had imagined her saying it in a hundred ways.
Crying.
Defensive.
Ashamed.
Angry.
Now that it was finally here, I did not feel relief.
I felt empty.
“You knew enough,” I said.
