The sharp sound of an alarm shattered the silence of the tiny bedroom.
Charlotte Carter's eyes fluttered open before she could even realize she had fallen asleep. Her body ached from the previous day's work, and every muscle begged her to stay beneath the thin blanket that barely kept away the cold.
She turned toward the old alarm clock sitting on the cracked wooden table.
4:30 a.m.
Another day.
Another chance to disappoint everyone.
Charlotte slowly pushed herself off the mattress lying on the floor. The room was barely large enough to fit the bed, an old wardrobe with one broken door, and a tiny window that overlooked the quiet street.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror hanging crookedly on the wall.
Long chestnut brown hair framed her delicate face. Her soft hazel eyes had dark circles beneath them, making the nineteen-year-old look older than she really was.
She forced herself to smile.
The girl in the mirror didn't smile back.
"Maybe today will be better," she whispered.
Deep down, she already knew it wouldn't.
She quietly opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.
The house was silent.
Her parents and two older sisters were still asleep.
As always.
Charlotte tied her hair into a loose ponytail before walking into the kitchen. Without wasting a second, she filled a bucket with water and began mopping the floor.
By five o'clock, she had swept the sitting room.
By five-thirty, she had washed last night's dishes.
At six, she was already preparing breakfast.
The smell of freshly made pancakes drifted through the house, followed by sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs.
The same breakfast everyone loved.
The same breakfast Charlotte almost never got to eat.
Footsteps echoed from upstairs.
Her oldest sister, Vanessa, walked into the dining room wearing silk pajamas while scrolling through her phone.
She glanced at the table.
"Is that all?" she asked with a frown.
Charlotte blinked.
"I... I made pancakes, eggs and bacon."
Vanessa rolled her eyes dramatically.
"You couldn't even make waffles?"
"I'm sorry."
"You always have an excuse."
Without another word, Vanessa sat down and began eating.
A few minutes later, Charlotte's second sister, Brielle, entered the room.
"Oh, pancakes again?" she scoffed. "Seriously, Charlotte? Do you ever think?"
Charlotte lowered her head.
"I woke up early to..."
"No one asked for your explanation."
Brielle reached for the syrup while muttering loud enough for Charlotte to hear.
"I swear she's only good for cleaning."
The words stung.
Not because they were new.
Because she had heard them almost every day for years.
Then came their parents.
Her father walked straight to the table without sparing Charlotte a glance.
Her mother looked around the kitchen.
"The floor by the back door isn't dry."
Charlotte immediately looked over.
"I'll clean it again."
"You should have done it properly the first time."
"Yes, Mom."
Her mother sighed.
"I don't know what we're going to do with you."
Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat.
She wanted to say she had cleaned the floor twice already.
She wanted to say she had been awake for almost two hours while everyone else slept.
She wanted to ask why nothing she ever did was enough.
Instead...
"I'm sorry."
Her father finally spoke.
"After breakfast, don't waste time. We need to open the café early."
Charlotte nodded.
"Yes, Dad."
No one asked if she had eaten.
No one noticed she hadn't even sat down.
She stood quietly beside the table while her family laughed together.
It felt less like she belonged there...
...and more like she was the maid hired to serve them.
When breakfast ended, Vanessa stretched lazily.
"I'm going shopping later after school."
Brielle smiled.
"I'll come with you."
Their mother nodded happily.
"Take my card."
Charlotte froze for the briefest second.
Last week she had asked for money to replace her torn school bag.
Her mother had told her it was unnecessary.
"Use it until it falls apart."
Yet buying expensive clothes for her sisters wasn't unnecessary.
Her chest tightened.
She quickly turned away before anyone noticed the tears threatening to fall.
By seven o'clock, the Carter Family Café was open.
The warm aroma of butter, fresh bread and coffee welcomed the first customers of the day.
The little café wasn't luxurious.
But people loved it.
Especially the fluffy pancakes Charlotte made every morning.
"Good morning!"
A regular customer smiled warmly.
"Charlotte, your pancakes are still the best in town."
For the first time that morning...
She smiled.
"Thank you."