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A Novel
by Brit Bennett
Stella wanted to become a schoolteacher at Mallard High someday. But every time Desiree imagined her own future in Mallard, life carrying on forever as it always had, she felt something clawing at her throat. When she mentioned leaving, Stella never wanted to talk about it.
"We can't leave Mama," she always said, and chastened, Desiree fell silent. She's already lost so much, was the part that never needed to be said.
On the last day of tenth grade, their mother came home from work and announced that the twins would not be returning to school in the fall. They'd had enough schooling, she said, easing gingerly onto the couch to rest her feet, and she needed them to work. The twins were sixteen then and stunned, although maybe Stella should have noticed the bills that arrived more frequently, or Desiree should have wondered why, in the past month alone, their mother had sent her to Fontenot's twice to ask for more credit. Still, the girls stared at each other in silence as their mother unlaced her shoes. Stella looked like she'd been socked in the gut.
"But I can work and go to school too," she said. "I'll find a way-"
"You can't, honey," her mother said. "You gotta be there during the day. You know I wouldn't do this if I didn't need to."
"I know, but-"
"And Nancy Belton got you teachin the class. What more do you need to learn?"
She had already found them a job cleaning a house in Opelousas and they would start in the morning. Desiree hated helping her mother clean. Plunging her hands into dirty dishwater, stooping over mops, knowing that someday, her fingers would also grow fat and gnarled from scrubbing white folks' clothes. But at least there would be no more tests or studying or memorizing, no more listening to lectures, bored to tears. She was an adult now. Finally, life would really begin. But as the twins started dinner, Stella remained silent and glum, rinsing carrots under the sink.
Excerpted from The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett. Copyright © 2020 by Brit Bennett. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Be sincere, be brief, be seated
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