“It’s your project.”
His jaw tightened.
“You always help me.”
I shrugged and kept eating.
He stormed off to get dressed.
Five minutes later, Mom was at my door.
“Laya, what happened with Owen’s project?”
I kept my voice calm.
“I didn’t touch it. It’s his.”
She stared at me like I’d done something unforgivable.
“That’s not how we do things in this house.”
That sentence stayed in my head all day.
Not how we do things.
Meaning I had broken an unspoken rule.
The rule that I existed to make Owen’s life easier.
That night, I didn’t fold the laundry.
I didn’t prep the lunches.
I didn’t wipe down the counters.
And when they noticed, it was like the entire world had tilted.
My mom scolded me.