And once again, she is powerless.

I can’t help but wonder what Umma would have been like if she had followed her brothers and sisters instead of staying behind. Would she still be this person, waiting around for my father, who doesn’t even want her?

I opened my mouth, unable to stifle the frustration growing inside me. It came up like bile, the need to say something mean and biting, the desire to cut her down for her stupidity. The want to make her feel small. But soon, that feeling gave way to sadness. I felt sorry for her. Sorry that every part of her life had been characterized by misery.

The only person who is conspicuously absent is my father. I keep expecting him to come through the door, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Ji-hyun, on the other hand, sees everything.

The tightness in my chest loosens. My sister has a gift for sidestepping conflict, for easing tension, for turning things around. I, on the other hand, am clumsy, awkward. Stressful situations make me panic.

But in a way, it was also a good thing. Because it planted something deep within me, a seed of anger that grew, that made me watch and ponder and learn, until I was strong enough to release my own rage. And if I could go back in time, I would pull my father aside and whisper in his ear: “Don’t give him the money; he’s full of shit. Lock the doors

“He made me promise not to tell you.” She grins, reaching over to the desk. I watch her as she taps each of the bobbleheads in turn. Their nodding accelerates until they’re a line of yes-men, agreeing with Ji-hyun’s every word. “I wanted to brag about it so badly, but I knew you’d be furious.” “That’s so unfair! He used to tell me that if I missed

As someone who has struggled with friendships my entire life, I really do understand. How many times have I felt a nagging possessiveness over my friends,