Emiko.

 The solicitor, a man in his late middle age with vast and somewhat alarming eyebrows, read out the will. Emiko could not grasp what she had heard. Or rather, she could not grasp what she had not heard. The solicitor packed up his papers and clearly feeling more than a little uncomfortable, hurried out of the rather well appointed library. The reading had taken place at her parents' opulent, vulgar but very grand estate. The solicitors avuncular voice seemed to continue echoing from the library walls, amplifying what he hadn’t said. It seemed that she, the favoured daughter, had been forsaken. Left out. Passed over. Her inheritance was nothing at all. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Her older sister, Ayako, sat beside her, entirely still and feigning, but failing to convey, sympathy. Perhaps it was the self satisfied smirk, but Emiko couldn't bear to look at her. It was the betrayal as much as anything. It cut deeper than any knife. She had always been the dutiful daughter, the one who adhered to their parents' wishes, done everything she could to earn their affection and approval. She had loved them, even when they were difficult to love. And they had been difficult in those final years. And they had deemed her unworthy of even a token gesture. ‘Thank you very much,’ she thought, bitterly, while she struggled to come to terms with the situation.

Whilst the solicitor had droned on about trusts and bequests, that she wasn’t a part of, Emiko felt a numbness, edged with fear for her future. She hadn’t imagined her future without the security of her family's wealth. But now, here she was, entirely adrift.

In the days that followed, Emiko was entirely aimless. She had nowhere to go so she loafed around the estate, her once resolute orderly mind a mess of confusion and anger. Her sister, Ayako wasted no time in asserting her control of their parents' businesses and properties. Ayako’s rather shrill, imperious tones were to be heard everywhere and within a very few days, Emiko became a mere bystander in her own life.

Emiko felt herself slipping further into despair. The servants, once so deferential, were now much less so and they seemed to look upon her with a level of indifference. People she had thought of as friends were conspicuous by their absence. Emiko had managed to retain a few possessions. She spent hours poring over her mother's journals, searching for some clue as to why she had been cast aside. But there were no answers, no clues.

And then the months turned into years. Emiko was for some long time adrift in a dark ocean of bitterness and regret. The realisation that her parents' love seemed to have been an illusion, was hard to come to terms with. She struggled. There were nights when she awoke howling in an anguish of anger, trying to understand. But she forged ahead with her life despite all of this pain. She was artistic, she was organised, she was tenacious and she made a niche for herself in the world in which she was comfortable and happy. Nevertheless, it was twenty years before she understood fully.

It was her birthday and Ayako called her on FaceTime. Ayaka had already drunk some wine and drank a large glass more on the call. Eventually, she complained that her privileged life was not all it might seem. She said she was surrounded by the sycophants that wealth attracts, she admitted to Emiko, that she was unhappy despite her wealth. She felt that she had achieved nothing of note and she felt always alone. Emiko said nothing, indeed, did not really know what to say, but she thought on what Ayako had said. She realised that in contrast, her life, which she had built for herself, was full of interesting things, of activities and with people she liked and who liked her. More importantly, she had made her own life and it was a full life.