At my graduation, while everyone was toasting my sister, I heard my father laugh: “Let’s see if she finds something she’s actually good at now.” I was still wearing my gown while the room applauded.

On the night of her graduation, Lucía stood in a hotel ballroom clutching her diploma against her chest while her father raised a glass in front of seventy guests.
Then, laughing, he said,

“Maybe one day she’ll finally find something she can do nearly as well as her sister.”

The dinner was being held in an elegant old hotel in central Madrid, already decorated for Christmas.

Crystal chandeliers hung overhead.

A massive tree glittered with red ornaments.

White tablecloths covered the tables, and champagne glasses sparkled under the lights.

Lucía