In the house, only the ticking of the clock remained.
The phone that had been vibrating over and over was trapped beneath my body.
It buzzed against the hardwood floor, a muffled hum like some futile cry no one could hear.
The lit screen showed multiple missed calls from Mom.
The newest notification was a text message from her.
"Eudora, don't think sharing my blood gives you the right to do whatever you want. Ally is the only daughter I've ever truly claimed!"
"Stay home and reflect on what you've done. Don't you dare bother me while I'm celebrating Ally's birthday!"
In the days that followed, I did not bother them.
She assumed her threat had worked.
What she didn't know was this:
While she was soaking in hot springs and cutting birthday cake with Aileen, I was curled on the cold floor, slowly beginning to rot.
At the Pinecrest Hot Springs Resort, the air conditioning was set low, and beyond the windows stretched the vast open sea.
But Mom seemed distracted.
A strange tightness pressed against her chest, an unease she couldn't name, making it impossible to sit still.
She tapped her phone screen awake. Her finger drifted instinctively to the home security app, wanting to check on me, to see what I was doing.
But then she remembered that photograph covered in vicious words, and the text message I'd never answered. Her brow furrowed, and she shoved the phone back into her purse.
Aileen was a master at playing the victim.
To squeeze a little more sympathy out of Mom, she deliberately crashed into the pool wall while swimming that evening, leaving a sprawl of bruises across her shoulder.
"Mom, my shoulder hurts so bad. I can't move it."
Mom had no choice but to wrap an arm around her waist and walk her back to the room, one slow step at a time.
They passed a little boy holding both his parents' hands. He called out loudly, "That lady loves her big sister the most! Just like Mommy loves me the most!"
Mom's steps faltered. She forced a smile that didn't quite hold.
The next second, she corrected him almost on instinct. "Sweetie, the person a mother loves most will always be her own child."
The words left her mouth, and she froze where she stood.
She didn't even know how those words had slipped out.
Aileen leaned against her, and something dark flickered through her eyes when she heard it. But a second later, she was back to looking pitiful and helpless.