"Oh. I'm satisfied she did." Why did parents pin all their hopes on their children, as if their progeny was merely a chance to live their lives over again rather than an entirely new person?

"Oh. I think I heard about someone making a trip, but I didn't know you hardly at all back then." Her birthdays had been spent with the litany of all the ways she'd failed the past year, first Gerhardt and then her mother parroting every lie he'd told her. Papa had looked on, murmuring hushes and then taken her aside later to bestow a kiss to the forehead and a pat on the head.

He'd meant well, but his eyes had been only for Margarite. "We didn't celebrate them in our family. I suppose it became a habit." She shrugs. "I used to try to do something for the girls, but it was always small." Stolen moments.