Her voice was calm, almost gentle. The simple concern in her eyes struck me harder than I expected. It had been so long since anyone in this house had spoken to me with even a shred of kindness.
I hesitated, then gave a small shake of my head. "No need. I'm not hungry."
Emily didn't press. She stood, but paused at the door. Her back to me, she hesitated again before finally speaking.
"Some kids..." Her voice was soft, but there was steel underneath. "Some kids are just born ungrateful. There's no point giving them your heart."
It wasn't until Emily gently closed the door behind her that the dam finally broke. For two days, I had held back every tear, every choking breath. But now, with no one around to see or judge, I clutched the blanket and broke down in sobs.
Even Emily could see it—how I had poured myself into Elise, given her my best years, my patience, my heart. Yet to Sara, to Elise, to my own parents, everything I'd done was nothing more than my duty. Expected. Taken for granted.
I didn't know how long I cried. At some point, exhaustion overtook me and I fell into a heavy sleep.