Little Emily could never understand why her parents didnt love her.
She annoyed her father just by existing, and her mother went through the motions of caring for her like a weary automatonmore concerned with keeping her husband in good spirits than with her own child.
Her paternal grandmother, Margaret Whitmore, insisted it was because her parents worked so hardher father driving lorries across the country, her mother juggling endless choresall so Emily would never want for anything.
But the truth came crashing down when Emily turned eight and overheard her parents arguing.
“For Gods sake, Nora, the soups too salty again!” her father bellowed. “Cant you do anything right?”
“John, honestly! I tasted itit was fine!” her mother protested weakly.
“Everythings always fine with you!” he sneered. “Cant even give me a son, can you? The lads at work take the mickJohn the Girl-Dad!”
It was unlikely anyone actually mocked himJohn was a hard man, respected in his tradebut the venom in his voice, the resentment aimed at Emily just for being a daughter, made her stomach twist.
Now she understood why they shipped her off to Grans whenever he came home from a long haul. He couldnt stand the sight of his “not-a-son.”
At Grans, Emily was happy. They did homework together, cooked, sewedsimple, warm moments. But the ache of her parents indifference never faded.
Then, not long after that argument, John and Nora suddenly announced they were moving to London.
They needed a fresh start, they said. Maybe, in a new city, theyd finally get the son they wanted.
Of course, it was Johns decision. Nora just nodded along.
The only problem? They didnt want Emily coming with them.
“Youll stay with Gran for now,” her mother muttered, avoiding her eyes. “Well come back for you.”
“I dont even want to go,” Emily lied, chin lifted, though her chest burned. “Id rather stay here.”
Fine. Shed keep living with Gran, with her friends, her teacherspeople who actually cared.
As for her parents? Let them live as they pleased. She wouldnt waste another tear on them.
By the time Emily turned ten, John and Nora had their precious sonBenjamin.
Her father announced it solemnly over a video callthey hadnt visited once in all those years. Just the odd phone call from her mother, the occasional “your dad says hello.”
They sent money sometimes, but mostly, Gran covered everything.
Then, a year later, her mother abruptly declared Emily was to move in with them. She even came to fetch her in person.
“Sweetheart,” she chirped. “Well finally be a proper family! Youll get to know your little brother!”
“Im not going anywhere,” Emily said flatly. “Im happy here with Gran.”
“Dont be difficult! Youre old enough to help out now.”
“Nora, rein it in!” Gran cut in. “If you think youre turning Emily into a free babysitter, think again!”
“Shes my daughterIll decide!” Nora snapped.
But Gran wasnt backing down. “Try it, and Ill report you for child abandonment. Youll lose your rightssee how you like that scandal!”
They argued. Emily didnt catch the restGran hurried her out to the shopsbut her mother never mentioned the move again. She left the next day.
Ten years passed without a word. Emily finished school, then college, and with help from Grans old friend, Albert Whitmore, landed a bookkeeping job at a small firm.
She started dating a driver named Liam, and they planned a weddinguntil Gran passed, and everything stopped.
John and Nora showed up for the funeral, just the two of them. Benjamin stayed behind”no place for a boy at something so grim.”
Emily barely registered their presence. Grief swallowed her whole.
Which was why she didnt immediately grasp what her father was discussing at the wake.
“Hmm place needs work,” John mused, eyeing Grans flat. “Wont fetch much.”
“John, please,” Nora sighed. “Not now.”
“Why wait? Weve got to sort this. Benjamins alone back home.”
Albert frowned. “Sort what, exactly?”
“Selling this place, of course. Benjaminll need a flat soon. This wont cover much, but its a startwell pay off the rest before hes eighteen.”
Emily stared out the window, numb.
“Christ, John,” Albert said. “Youd throw your own daughter out? Wheres she supposed to live?”
“Shes a grown woman! Let her husband take care of her.”
Albert exhaled sharply. “Margaret was right about you. But it wont work. Theres a willthis flat belongs to Emily now.”
Silence.
“Turned Gran against me, did you?” John spat at Emily, who finally tuned in. “Doesnt matter. Well challenge it.”
“Try,” Albert said coolly. “But know thisI wont let you take her down.”
One day of legal consultations was all it took for John to realise the law wasnt on his side.
“Emily, have you no shame?” he tried instead. “Youll be married soonyour husband can provide. But Benjamin? Hes a man. He needs this. Walk away.”
“Never,” she said.
“Well buy you out. Ten thousand. Enough for a deposittake a mortgage.”
“Id rather burn it.”
“You little!”
“Leave, or Ill call the police.”
Shed honour Grans wishes. And she sure as hell wasnt ending up homeless.
John hated copstoo many fines, too many close calls. He and Nora left that night and vanished for four years.
In that time, Emily married Liam, and they had a daughter, Maggie. Money was tight, but they were happy.
Then Nora called, screaming.
“This is your fault! If you hadnt clung to that flat, your father wouldnt have worked himself to death!”
Emily waited out the sobs. “You need help with the funeral?”
She pitied Johnbut as she would any stranger.
“I need nothing! You orphaned Benjamin! Live with that!” The line went dead.
“You know this isnt on you,” Liam said, watching her pale.
“Maybe if Id”
“Stop. They abandoned you. End of story.”
A year later, Nora turned up unannouncedolder, harder, barely looking at Emily.
“We need money. Benjamins starting uni,” she demanded. “This is your doing.”
“I owe you nothing,” Emily said. “And you know it.”
“Margarets poisoned you,” Nora sneered. “She always hated me.”
“Say another word against Gran, and Ill throw you out myself.”
Noras eyes flicked over the renovated flat, the new furniture. “Spare me the sob story. You can afford it.”
Theyd scrimped for years, taken loansbut Emily wouldnt justify herself to this woman.
“Not even a word about your granddaughter?”
“Shes got parents. Benjamins got no one.”
“Get out.”
Nora smiled. “Fine. But rememberyou chose this.”
A week later, a court summons arrived.
“Youre suing me?” Emily asked flatly.
“Ill make you support your brother. The laws on my side.”
“Im not your child, then.” She hung up.
In court, Nora played the grieving widow, spinning tales of hardship. The judge listened, sympatheticuntil Emily spoke.
Cold, precise, she laid bare the truth.
But the real clincher? Nora and Benjamin werent poor. Not by a long shot.
Case dismissed.
Nora left with a glare, no goodbye.
Emily didnt fool herselfthis wasnt over.
But for the first time, she didnt care.
