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MARY

“Daddy, I want to ride.”

I said it again for what felt like the hundred-and-fifth time this week. My friends kept showing up with their bikes, laughing and racing down the street, and every time I watched them I felt that same sharp little frustration. There were bikes in the garage. None of them mattered because my stepdad still refused to teach me.

I was starting to wish I had a brother instead.

Liam was buckling his shoes by the door, already half gone for the day.

“Baby, I get busy from morning till night and you know that. And I can’t be disturbing the neighbors...