“Are you sure you don’t want to take another peek at the tiaras?” Ruby’s mom once again stood holding the glittering key ring that led to the glories of her past. This time, however, she was standing in front of a filing cabinet in a small back bedroom instead of the storage pod. “Honestly, honey, you’re going about this all wrong.”

“I think I smell dinner burning.” Ruby waited until her mother sniffed the air before snatching the keys. “Ha! You aren’t even cooking anything. You’re planning on serving me celery sticks and iced wine.”

Her mother sniffed. “There’s no need to be mean, Ruby. I got you a tub of hummus to go with the celery.”

Ruby’s stomach rumbled its appreciation. Store-bought hummus might not sound like much to the outside world, but it represented a huge step in the right direction. She might leave this house with actual nutrients in her body.

“Is it the garlicky kind I like?” Ruby asked.

“Of course not. No man is going to want to kiss you if you’re running around smelling like an Italian restaurant.”

Ruby knew better than to argue. There was no need to point out that things like toothbrushes and mouthwash existed or that people had been consuming garlic for centuries and still managed to further the species. If her mother had once read it in a magazine, it was taken as law.

“Well, I appreciate the hummus all the same.” She found the key she was looking for and stabbed it into the lock of the filing cabinet. Like the storage container neatly organized with the vestiges of Ruby’s former glory, the filing cabinet was equally organized. A copy of every prize check she’d ever earned, her pageant scores and certificates, newspaper clippings highlighting her successes—if the name Ruby Taylor appeared anywhere in print, her mother had carefully preserved the paper it came on.

“What I don’t appreciate is your obsession with the past,” she said as she fished out an advertisement for a brand of cereal that had long since gone defunct. Her eight-year-old face beamed as she scooped in a mouthful of wheat bran. She’d been hired for the campaign because of her wholesome, all-American appearance, which later turned out to be code for deeply problematic views on eugenics. “Why are you holding onto this ad, Mom? You can hardly put it on a Christmas card and send it out to your friends.”