“Are there any assassins in the crowd, Kerani?”
I never knew my mother’s name.
You probably know me already. In every story you’ve ever been told, someone like me exists. A figure in the background, barely noticed by the main players. A talentless, unwanted child. The ugly one. The ugly one only gets in the way. She is as out of place as a sparrow in a clutch of swans. This was the role I had in my father’s hall.
Karen looked out the airplane window as they landed. Three hours in the air had led them to this. The sky was dark gray, the grass was covered by a pitiful amount of snow, especially for mid-December, and the airport was just a concrete box.
“We are now arriving at Calgary International Airport; please make sure you take all your belongings with you. Thank you for flying with us.” Her mom glanced at the carry-on bag at Karen’s feet. “Do you have everything?” “I didn’t take anything out,” Karen grumbled. Why bother? she added silently. Most of her stuff had been packed and shipped out before they had left. Moving to Calgary from Toronto, during Christmas break— after her first semester in high school. What had her parents been thinking? So what if Dad got a new job. Didn’t anybody care about her life?
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