Everything became about Chloe.
Her training, her competitions, her future. They said uprooting the family would be worth it if she could become an Olympic champion of something.
They just didn’t want me tagging along.
At first, they framed it as something noble.
“You’re older, Melody,” they told me.
I remember how my mother beamed at me, as though doing this would be the most important thing in my life. As if I was saving them or doing something so meaningful for our family.
“This will give you a chance to bond with Gran, Mel,” my father said.
“And we’ll visit all the time, and you’ll see, it will be fun!”
But they didn’t visit. They didn’t call much, either. Eventually, when I was about to turn eleven, my gran sat me down and explained the truth.
“Your parents think Chloe’s got a real shot at something big, my love.
Her voice was kind but firm, and I could see the anger simmering beneath her words.
My gran tried her best, but she was getting on in age and could only do so much. She had also stopped driving because of her eyesight, so getting to and from school was becoming a nightmare.
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