(Amelia)
She stood there with her hand still on the back of the chair, and she looked at me the way she used to look at me across a room full of our parents' friends. Like she already knew she'd win. Like she wanted me to know it too.
"A guest," she said. "That's what I am to you now. A guest in the house that should've been mine."
"You made it not yours," I said. "You ran."
"I ran toward something." Her voice climbed. "You wouldn't understand that. You've never run toward anything in your life. You take what's left over and call it enough." She let out a short laugh with something ugly under it. "Do you know what I think about, over there, in all those beautiful cities? I think about how I begged you. That's the part I can't stand. I got down and begged my own sister to save me. I've
