My mother called at 2:07 a.m. and said, “You can c…

“And yet you still have trouble reading a room.” Her tone sharpened. “This evening is not about you. It’s about Daniel.

Lauren comes from a very respectable family. Her father sits on the federal bench. Her mother serves on three charity boards.

We need to make a good impression.”

We. My family loved that word when they wanted something from me. I was never part of the “we” when they were celebrating.

Only when I was being managed. I let out a slow breath and looked around my apartment. Trial binders stacked by the couch.

A pair of heels tipped over near the door. My navy suit hanging on the back of a chair because I had been too tired to put it away after work. I had built this life from scholarships, internships, ramen noodles, and caffeine.