The Senator's Daughter: A Quiet Rebellion

sharp and laced with a familiar anxiety she

rling. The fellowship

l room, a forgotten Jane Doe in a coma. I was in my own bedroom in our

med it. I was back. Back to

ld on the antique rug. The conversation dri

ice was a high-pitched whine. "What if that st

nt. I only submitted her name as a formality, to look fair. The First Lady's office will see your Harvard credentials

echo from a past I had

angry, demanding to know why I was always second best. The fight that followed was u

feigned "apology dinner,"

g. I spent years in a coma, a ghost in a shell, while Gabrielle lived my life. She t

. Alone an

t this

hose a simple, understated dress, the kind of thing I always

ot scream. I would not give them

fast, my mother and Gabrielle stopped talkin

y and stay out of the way. We are expecti

ther," I said,

of melon. She looked exactly like me, but polished to a high gleam. We were identical twins, but

the parties Gabrielle would attend, the people she would meet, the powerful

d in my chest. They h

let them d