It's a cool, stormy day when Heather, Percy and their mother leave for the seaside cottage. The younger teen pulls her jacket tighter, but savors the New York air; warm and busy with the stink of garbage. The smell of the city through and through, the deep sigh she heaves is the last taste she will get of it for a long while. Percy hovers awkwardly on the other side of the volkswagen, and Heather is reminded, as their eyes meet momentarily through the car windows, of just how far apart they are. Her older step-brother had shot up like a weed, taller than her mother now. Meanwhile, Heather sat at a pitiful five foot three, an unfortunate tribute to her father's genes. Her greasy skin and thin plain brown hair was yet another inherited trait from the bad apple tree. Not to mention she was built like a troll- square jaw, large hands, small eyes and big feet. Her limbs were stocky and short, a contrast to Percy's wiry frame with clear skin and beautiful sea-green eyes.

Jealousy had been a big part of her life from a young age- her brother was bigger, stronger, and sometimes she felt he was much kinder as well. He was also definitely the favorite child. In a normal situation, Heather would have clung to her father. But seeing as she had regular demonstrations by complete and total strangers (plus the neverending torrent of ranting from Percy) that showed her he wasn't exactly good dad material, Heather was very independent. In her mind, her mother and Percy deserved every single inch Gabe had taken from them. And she knew she had taken something too. It was in the way that Sally sometimes looked at her, like she was a mouse to be fed to a snake. Guilt, guilt and regret was what Heather saw in her mother's eyes.

It would flash, like a terrible strike of lightning, and then was gone. That wasn't something mothers normally felt about their children.