The Truth According to Ember

by Danica Nava

There was no one to help them if I ever broke down. I had to be everything for everyone, and as exhausting as that was, it also defined me. I wasn’t an artist. I wasn’t a great cook. But I was dependable, and I showed up for those I loved. That had to count for something in this life.

That was the problem with hope. It created expectations, and when they weren’t met, you were left feeling crushed.

“Be careful, Danuwoa, I wouldn’t want to ruin you,” I said, laughing. He sat up and rested his arms on the bed. “It’s funny. I woke up this morning thinking, ‘I hope this girl destroys me.’ ”