chapter 2

"Eleanor… please don't be angry, okay? If you hate me, I'll leave right away. I can go anywhere."

I opened the door slowly, my voice deliberate.

"Annoying! If you've got time to put on a show, why don't you go curry favor with Mom and Dad instead?"

Stella's eyes instantly welled up. She gasped, choking on her words.

"I'm… sorry, Eleanor…"

She clutched her collar, as if she were about to suffocate at any second.

Mom rushed over to prop her up, while Derek shoved me hard.

"Eleanor! How could you bully Stella!"

I stumbled, slamming into the doorframe. A nail scraped my hand. Blood oozed out. I bit my lip, struggling to hold back tears.

At the noise, Dad stepped out of his study.

He didn't even notice the blood. Instead, he unleashed a torrent of scolding.

"You've just arrived and already causing trouble? Can't you let Stella have her way? What's wrong with you!"

If these weren't my family, I might almost have been moved by how fiercely they cared for each other.

"I didn't bully her. Just stay out of my sight from now on. You're a nuisance."

My voice was calm, but under it simmered a deep, unrelenting hatred.

Derek raised his hand, threatening fiercely.

"Apologize! Or I'll beat you to a pulp!"

I slammed the door shut. He pounded on it.

"Eleanor! Get out here!"

I shoved in my headphones, cranked the volume, and blocked them all out.

Ridiculous. This time, I hadn't done anything.

Just disliking her made me the villain.

Stella only had to cough a little, gasp once in a while, and everyone fell instantly on her side.

After that, Stella learned how my parents truly felt about me. Thinking I still didn't know her secret, she stopped even pretending to be kind to me.

And so the four of them continued, laughing and chatting as a happy little family. I was always the odd one out.

Parent-teacher conference day arrived.

"Eleanor, once you get to the classroom, sit quietly in the back," Mom said, suddenly speaking as she walked ahead with Stella.

Dad chimed in, "We need to stay with Stella."

I asked casually, "Couldn't one of you just stay with her?"

Mom's gentle smile vanished, replaced by annoyance.

"Stella's in poor health. She needs both me and your dad to look after her. As the older sister, you never think of her."

Dad glared at me, too.

"Petty, always trying to compete with her. Kids raised outside really are ignorant. I'm ashamed to bring you out."

There it was again—raised outside.

Dad, didn't you know why I was raised outside?

My lashes fluttered, a sharp pain stabbing at my heart. I walked numbly toward the classroom.

I didn't care about family ties, yet some memories from my past life kept resurfacing.

It had been the same back then.

They hovered over Stella at every class meeting, worried sick about her health.

And I couldn't stand it. I craved their love and attention.

At one conference, I had blurted out the truth—Stella wasn't my sister. She was the daughter of human traffickers.

Her best friend had called me a liar, a fraud, saying the police should take me away.

Scared, I clung to Mom's arm. "Mom, tell them! I'm not lying! She's not your child!"

But Mom had slapped me.

"You're consumed by jealousy. A liar. Not worthy of calling me your mother."

After that, their favor toward Stella grew even stronger, while their hatred for me—the real daughter—deepened.

This time, it was still the same three of them sitting together.

I sat alone in the back, completely out of place amid the warmth.

Worse than being in the orphanage—at least the director used to spend time with me now and then.

I looked up at the happy trio in front of me.

Mom peeled a candy for Stella. Dad poured her water.

They whispered to each other from time to time, and Stella's soft, coaxing voice drifted out.