"Yeah, right, bullshit! I don't believe you. You don't need to be so damn hypocritical, Big Sis. There's no way you aren't jealous of me. And now you're trying to get Mom's attention, pretending to be so nice to her. What for? So Mom will love you like she loves me, huh? Give it up. Don't get your hopes up. I'm Dad and Mom's favorite child."
"Yeah, I know you're Dad and Mom's favorite child. That's a fact, and I'm not denying it, am I?"
Mayra tried to hold back her tears. She couldn't be so damn sensitive, not after Mila had reminded her that all their parents' attention had always been focused entirely on Mila.
Their parents had never spoken harshly to Mayra, let alone physically abused her. But whatever Mila wanted, she always got. Mayra, on the other hand, had to work for anything she wanted.
Mila was also forbidden from doing any housework, while Mayra was saddled with every chore that should have been split between her and Mila. Mayra tried to accept everything she'd been given with an open heart, convincing herself that everything their parents did was out of love.
Mayra tried to think positively and believe that they wanted her to become independent because she was their eldest child. Mayra had to be strong and protect Mila. Kamila Hapsari. Her little sister, who was only two years younger than Mayra.
Mayra drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She tried to calm the turmoil raging inside her.
"Yeah, well. Good for you if you've finally come to your senses. And I don't want that to change. Dad and Mom's love belongs to me alone, forever. I'll always get whatever I want."
Mayra merely nodded and continued eating. Somehow, she didn't pay any attention to how the food tasted. All that mattered was filling her stomach.
Mila got up without bothering to carry away the dishes she'd used. She was always like that.
"Take care of it, okay?"
Mila walked away, leaving Mayra with no choice but to nod. No matter how obnoxious Mila was, she was Mayra's only little sister. If their parents ever passed away, they would only have each other to rely on.
"Mila, Mila. When are you going to change? I love you even though you don't feel the same way. You know, Mil, even when you're annoying, I see it as your way of loving me. You get so much love from Dad and Mom. I know you act that way because you don't want them to share their love with me. Sigh, be patient, Mayra. Haven't you gotten used to this by now? It's nothing strange anymore."
Mayra cleared the dining table, then washed her own dishes and the ones Mila had left behind. She forced a faint smile to ease the tightness that was beginning to spread through her chest.
Hutomo hurried home from the shop where he had made his living all this time. His thoughts were in turmoil after remembering how his wife had complained of feeling sick that morning.
"Sir, heading home already? That's unusual."
The greeting from the owner of the food stall next to his shop brought Hutomo to an abrupt stop.
"My wife isn't feeling well, ma'am. I want to get home as quickly as I can. I'm worried Santi might need something, and the kids aren't home yet."
"Oh, I see. No wonder I haven't seen Mrs. Santi all day. I hope she gets well soon, sir."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for the prayers."
Hutomo quickly started his motorcycle and rode down the road toward home. Even though Santi had only complained of a headache and felt that taking some medicine was enough, Hutomo was still worried about his wife.
After a fifteen-minute ride, Hutomo finally arrived home. He glanced at the motorcycle his two children usually used to get to college. Hutomo stepped inside with a calmer heart.
"Assalamu alaikum," he called.
"Wa alaikum assalam, Dad. You're home early?"
Mayra went to greet Hutomo. She extended her right hand to shake the middle-aged man's hand.
"Yeah, May. I'm worried about your mother. I was going to take the day off, but your mother wouldn't let me. She felt bad for the customers and salespeople who came by if I closed up. You and Mila have been home for a while?"
"For a decent while, Dad. Mila and I got home about half an hour ago. Do you want to eat first? I can fix you something."
"I want to check on your mother first."
Mayra nodded, and Hutomo headed to the bedroom he shared with Santi. He saw the woman who had shared his life with him fast asleep.
Not wanting to disturb Santi while she rested, Hutomo left the bedroom again and went to the dining table.
Mayra quickly prepared food for her father. She sat with Hutomo as he ate the meal she'd prepared.
"Have you eaten, May?" Hutomo asked between bites.
"Yes, Dad. After class earlier."
Hutomo nodded in understanding, then quickly finished his food.
"Oh, Dad, when Mila and I got home earlier, Mom fell in the bathroom."
"Cough!"
Mayra immediately handed him a glass of water that was sitting nearby. She felt a little sorry that she hadn't waited for her father to finish eating.
"What's wrong with Dad?" Mila shouted as she ran over to Hutomo and patted his back.
"Big Sis Mayra must've made Dad choke. Are you hurt, Dad?"
Hutomo coughed several more times. Mayra's words had startled him.
"Sorry, Mil. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to scare you."
"Did Mom really fall in the bathroom?" Hutomo asked, looking back and forth between Mayra and Mila. He nodded first to acknowledge Mayra's apology.
"Mom's okay, Dad. Dr. Ayu came by earlier to examine her."
Hutomo let out a sigh of relief.
"Eat some more, Dad. Mom definitely won't like it if you don't finish your food."
"Yeah, I'll finish it."
Mila sat in the chair beside Hutomo. She propped one leg up on the chair.