Em, Emy, and El

A couple of weeks ago, my mom received a letter from some oh-so-great family. Whatever it was, it made mom freak out. I mean, I hadn't seen her stock eat chocolate like that since she was pregnant with Ella, my little 7-year-old sister.

I was starting to worry, of course, being the oldest sibling. It's my job to protect the family, momma can't do it forever.

I've been trying to pry as much information from mom as possible but all she ever says is 'they wanna take my baby', but it doesn't make sense. None of us are babies and we don't have any other siblings that we know of.

"Emy, come on. We've got to see what's wrong with momma." I popped in Emy's room and she was on her bed with her phone.

"Em, we've tried that already. Nothing's going to change this time." Emy rolled her eyes at me and went back to her phone.

"Alright, when El and I find out what's wrong with momma, I'll make sure to hide all the chocolate from you." I shrugged and pulled the door close, but something stopped it and it saw Emy's foot in the door.

"Let's go." She said, pulling the door back open and walking out.

"You too El, come on." Ella was playing with one of my older toys.

"Alright." She said, putting it down and grabbing her stuffed bunny, Mr.Fluff.

We walked around the corner to mom and I's bedroom and burst open the door. She jumped and stuffed whatever she was holding under her butt.

"Girls! It's rude to come in without knocking." Mom scolded us, seeming out of it.

"It's my room too, ma," I said.

"Mom, we know there's something stressing you out. We need to know what it is because if we don't, we won't be able to help." I said, bringing my sisters to sit on mom and I's bed.

"It's nothing girls, really." She didn't sound the least bit reassuring to me.

"We've been to the grocery shop 3 times the last two weeks solely for a chocolate run." I deadpanned and crossed my arms over my chest. Mom sighed and looked down, looked at us, and looked down again. It seemed she was looking at her stomach for some reason.

Then, I noticed the bulge in her stomach.

"Oh my gosh, mom are you pregnant again?! Did you get pregnant by that rich family's son and now they want their child?!" I asked, getting anxious. Her being pregnant explains all the chocolate and her saying things about her baby.

"No, Em. I'm not pregnant." She said and I relaxed my body. But now I've got one more thing to add to my please-don't-give-me-nightmares-about list.

She got up and produced a little white envelope under her.

"Omg, mom, can you poop paper? That's so weird." El said, grabbing the paper that was under mom's butt, kinda gross if I do say so myself.

"No, El. This is a letter from a very rich family by the name of Manchester." Mom said, taking back the letter.

"Well, read it to us, or I could read it to us?" I grabbed at the paper but she pulled away.

"It says that the Manchester family wants one of you two to marry their heir." Mom nodded at me and Emy.

"Heir? The Manchester's are royalty? Omg, I'm going to be a princess!" Emy said and El pouted.

"No fair! I wanna be a princess too!" El pounded Mr.Fluff on the bed along with her fists repeatedly.

"He's not a prince. He's just going to take over his family's properties and businesses when it's his turn." Mom assured El but Em was still gushing.

"They need someone ages 10-12." Mom gave us some more details.

"I'm 10, this is perfect!" Emy said, sizing her body with her hands.

"How old is the prince?" Emy asked, getting all in mom's face.

"He isn't a prince. He's 12." Mom said, looking through the letter.

"Oh! And he is only two years older than me! Come on Em, let's go look him up." Emy grabbed my hand and dragged me to her room.

She sat me down and pulled out her phone, heading straight for Google. The WiFi is usually very slow, but today she was able to get right to what she wanted.

"Look! He's so cute!" Emy tapped on to the first picture that popped up of a family with the surname Manchester.

"That might not even be him. This might be him." I pointed to a guy with thick black glasses and acne for days. He also had braces and he was bald. And by bald, I mean bald. No eyebrows, eyelashes, anything.

"Ewww, no. Rich people are always good-looking because they can pay people to make them look good." Emy reasoned as she found more images of that Manchester family.

"Omg, he's a light skin. I've always wanted a light skin boyfriend." Emy squealed. I just sat there looking at the pictures with her.

"You know Emy, if you'd read The Selection like I told you too, you might know that there would probably be more than just you there." I reasoned, hoping to lower my sister's expectations.

"And, I might be there too," I added. I remembered from The Selection that sisters could send in their pictures, but only one of them would get picked, if either of them. But, this is real life, not The Selection, they might pick us both.

"You won't, the letter said he wants one of us," Emy emphasized the one, then I remembered hearing mom mention only one of us leaving.

"Alright Emy, let's be realistic. Mom might send me, I'm not saying I want to go, I like living the life of a simple underdog, but you know how mom worries." She picked her head up from her phone.

"Mom would be worried that you were uncomfortable living with them, which is why she'll send me." Emy sounded irritated and her face looked almost predatory, something I'd never seen before. Then she lowered her head back to her phone.

I walked out of her room and went straight to a brand new Hershey's bar. What were they doing to my sister before even laying an eye on her? I need to somehow intercept this. Without making my sister hate me.