How do the events in paragraphs 13-21 help the reader understand the decisions Consuela makes at the end of the story?
13 Each of my strides jars a different, recent memory. Earlier this week at school: my teacher exclaiming over my work in physics, “Excellent work, Consuela. I’ll write a letter of recommendation for you. You should really apply to Cal Tech and MIT. You’re coming to the weekend astronomy camp, right?” My heart sang. The stars. For the last two years, they are all I’ve wanted to do: Study them, chart their fierce light, listen to them, learn what they are saying. Stars do talk—really—with radio waves for words. But when I got home from school, an eclipse was on.

14 Parents, on the dark side: “You will not go to any camp. Isn’t school during the week enough? You have to help us with the business.”

15 Me, trying to remain calm in the light: “What about Manuel?” My brother, older by a year.

16 Parents, astonishment: “He has football practice.”

17 “So what! I’m getting top honors in science! He’s just playing junior varsity football!”

18 More genuine astonishment: “But he’s the son.” Meaning, of course, I’m only the daughter, only a girl. Maybe they don’t mean to, but they’re banishing me to the dark. I can’t let that happen.

19 Later Mama tried to soothe me. “M’ija,1 it’s because we love you. We want you to be happy with a nice boy, to have a family.”

20 “Are you saying being an astronomer and being happy with a nice boy are not compatible?”

21 She was saying that with her hands that touched my hair, with her liquid Spanish murmuring, with her eyes that lingered on my face, imploring me to stop struggling in this foolish manner.