Emily Taylor

**Diary Entry** I realised long ago that in families with more than one child, someone is nearly always

I’m 42, and I absolutely don’t want my parents moving in with me. My name’s Lucy. I’m forty-two, married

**Diary Entry** I’ve known for years: in families with more than one child, there’s almost always a *favourite*—and

“Why should *I* be the one to look after her? There’s Wesley—her golden boy—let *him* step up.”

—What’s the point of this truth? A father isn’t the one who conceived you—he’s the one who raised you. “

Mark’s mother suggested we swap flats—but on one condition: I had to sign mine over to her.

Helen’s mother-in-law offered to swap flats—but with one condition: I had to sign mine over to her.

My mother-in-law suggested swapping flats—but with one condition: I had to sign mine over to her.

“What’s the point of knowing the truth? A father isn’t the one who sires you—it’s the one who raises you.

Why do we need this truth? A father isn’t the one who gave life, but the one who raised it. “