My father didn’t raise his voice when he decided my future was worth less than my twin sister’s.

That was what made it impossible to forget. If he had yelled or slammed my acceptance letter onto the table, maybe I could have called it one ugly family argument. But he was calm, almost gentle, speaking as if he were discussing bills instead of his daughter’s life.

“We’re paying for Redwood Heights,” he said, looking at Clare first. “Full tuition, housing, meals—everything.”

My twin sister gasped, though part of me knew she had expected it. My mother smiled through tears, already imagining dorm decorations and campus visits. Then my father turned to me.

“Lena,” he said, “we’ve decided not to fund Cascade State.”

For a moment, I didn’t understand. Cascade State wasn’t elite, but it was a respected public university with a strong economics program. I had earned that acceptance. I had studied late, kept my grades high, helped at home, and asked for nothing extravagant. I had only wanted the same chance.

“I don’t understand,” I said.