Gemotions

She crossed her arms, her knuckles turning white. “It’s not fair, Maya!” Sarah’s voice cracked. The words tumbled out, each one laced with resentment. The tiny, wire-haired terrier whimpered softly in its crate, its brown eyes pleading.

The injustice of it all burned in her chest. Maya was always the one who got what she wanted. The good apartment, the fancy furniture, now this.

Sarah ran a hand through her hair, a frustrated gesture that yanked at the roots. She wanted to scream, to throw something, but she bit her lip, forcing herself to stay still, even as a tremor ran through her body. The dog needed her. And she would not let Maya win.