After many days of brushing her hair, I did it without being asked anymore. When Cristyne noticed this, she whined that I never brushed her hair, so I conceded to also do hers. After weeks of this, it just became another part of my day, another one of my chores. One day however, I had to help the cooks bake pies for Elsebeth’s upcoming birthday. I was missed.

“MARINA!” Margarete sounded furious and I wiped the flour off my hands and rushed to her. She sat with Cristyne in her room examining her nails nonchalantly.

“Yes?”

“Why haven’t you come to do my hair? It’s past 3.”

“I was in the kitchen helping to bake pies for Elsebeth.”

“What does that cow need pies for?”

“It’s her birthday, Margarete!”

“So? She doesn’t need to be eating pies, she’s fat enough as it is!” Cristyne chimed in.

“She’s not fat! I can’t believe you would talk about your own sister like this!”

“Oh don’t act like we should be the shameful ones! You’re the one who didn’t come to do our hair!” Margarete snarled.

I lost it.