I was the biological daughter the Aldridge family only bothered to find after eighteen years of wandering. Yet, my own brother, Christian, found my rough edges too embarrassing to bear. He stood by and watched when his beloved foster sister, Daisy, pushed me down the grand staircase of their estate. I ended up in a sterile hospital room with a shattered leg and zero family visits. Only Thomas—my fiancé, Thomas King—showed up every day, bringing me warm soup and wiping my feverish skin. He fought Christian for me, kicked Daisy out of the house, and eventually staged a grand proposal that felt like a movie. He promised to love me forever. I thought I finally had a home. Until I stumbled upon a viral thread online. “Have you ever seen what real favoritism looks like?” A comment with millions of likes caught my attention. “I’m technically the foster sister, but my brother refuses to acknowledge his blood-related one. Even the real sister’s fiancé is completely wrapped around my finger, loving me to the absolute core. To make it up to me, he said he’s going to dump her at their wedding tomorrow—right in front of everyone.” “Surely no one is favored more than me!” Then, a brand-new reply appeared: “My sweet girl deserves to be a princess forever. Anyone who makes you upset—I’ll handle them.” The avatar was hauntingly familiar. It belonged to the secret burner account of Thomas King, the man who had sworn to love me for the rest of his life. … My fingertips turned white, and my phone nearly slipped from my hand. I tapped on Thomas’s private burner account, my thumb trembling as I scrolled through his past posts, one by one. Not a single one was about me. Instead, they were filled with flirtatious exchanges with Daisy. Every word cut like a knife. I scrolled back to two weeks ago—my twenty-eighth birthday. It was the first birthday I had celebrated since returning to the Aldridge house four years ago. I remembered closing my eyes and making a wish as the candle flickered, my heart full of hope. I wished for a peaceful life, for Thomas to love me forever, and for us to finally build a home of our own. But at that exact second, Thomas had sent a message to Daisy: “Got the strawberry cake you wanted.” Daisy’s reply came a second later, dripping with affection: “Hurry up and come see if the flowers I bought look pretty.” Thomas’s indulgent reply followed immediately: “Wait for me. I’ll head over as soon as I deal with this nuisance.” While I had been closing my eyes, praying for our future, he was flirting with my sister. The pain was so sharp it made me choke. The heavy rain pouring outside my window today was identical to the storm on my birthday. We had been at a bakery when Daisy called. He stood up immediately, without even bothering to wish me a happy birthday. He told me there was an urgent crisis at the office and he had to leave. I had foolishly held onto his sleeve. “The rain is too heavy outside. Can you please just stay until we finish the cake?” He had ripped his hand away with so much force that I stumbled, hitting the corner of the table. Frosting smeared onto my clothes. “Maeve, be reasonable. The company’s business is important.” Back then, I had kept lying to myself, whispering that Thomas simply had no choice. I sat alone, eating the bitter cake in silence. But the truth was, he simply didn’t belong to me. My hands shook violently as I dialed his number. It rang twice before he answered, his voice dripping with impatience. “Maeve, what is it? I’m exhausted trying to coordinate everything for the wedding tomorrow.” Beneath his voice, a woman’s soft, deliberate giggle drifted through the receiver. “Hang up. Focus on playing with me.” My lips trembled, but before I could utter a word, the line went dead. I stared blankly at the screen. Below the chat log on the burner account was a photo of two holding hands. The larger hand had a small mole on the index finger and wore the matching band I had bought him last month. Inside were engraved the initials “M & T”—Maeve and Thomas. But the hand he was holding wasn’t mine. Thunder rumbled outside, echoing the hollow ache in my chest. I deleted every single photo of Thomas from my phone, then dialed Wyatt Mercer’s number. The sound of the rain drowned out my quiet, resolute tears. I spoke clearly, letting every syllable land. “Wyatt, I’m not going to the wedding tomorrow. I’m choosing a different groom.” Hearing my shaky breath, Wyatt was silent for a brief moment before he spoke with absolute certainty. “Wait for me. I’ll marry you.” Barely ten minutes after I hung up, the front door clicked open. Thomas stepped inside, bringing the cold night air with him. In his hand was a box containing a strawberry cake—the exact same brand he had taken from the bakery on my birthday. His eyes held nothing but tired obligation. “I know you’re upset,” he said, his tone flat. “I bought your favorite strawberry cake. Stop throwing a tantrum.” I sat on the sofa, my voice completely devoid of emotion. “I don’t like strawberry cake.” Thomas froze, his impatience showing. “How is that possible? You literally ate it on your birthday.” “For as long as I can remember, I have loved mangoes and hated strawberries.” I stared into his cold, unfamiliar eyes. “Thomas, you’ve never actually remembered a single thing I like, have you?” He seemed to notice my pale face for the first time, but he remained silent. My legs throbbed with a dull, familiar ache. “The woman’s voice on the phone earlier… who was it?” His tone turned defensive and self-righteous. “It was Daisy. She was kicked out of the Aldridge house because of you. She lost everything that should have been hers.” He took a step closer, looking down at me. “You took her brother, and you took the fiancé she loved for years. Maeve, my spending time with her and comforting her is just my way of paying back your debt.” “Paying back my debt.” How laughably absurd. Nobody paid back “my” debt when I was pushed down the stairs and left to heal alone. Nobody paid back my debt when I was shivering and neglected in the orphanage. The girl who caused all the pain received nothing but adoration, while I, the victim, was expected to carry the weight of her sins. A quiet, hollow laugh escaped my lips. It turned into a sob, and tears spilled down my cheeks without warning. In the middle of the suffocating silence, the doorbell rang. The maid opened it, revealing Daisy standing there in a white dress, looking timid and frail. “Maeve, Thomas left his wedding gift for me at his place, and I forgot to take it. I came to return it.” She walked slowly into the living room and set down a gift box. With one glance, the blood in my veins turned to ice. Hanging around her neck was my jade pendant. It was the only piece of my past I had kept during my eighteen years of wandering. It was the token that proved my identity to the Aldridges, and eventually, the token of love I had given to Thomas, believing he would treasure it. I had told him it was the most precious thing I owned. But he had given it to Daisy. I bolted upright, the old injury in my leg screaming in pain as I stumbled forward. “Give it back! That’s mine!” Daisy shrank back, deliberately letting her grip slip. The jade pendant fell, striking the marble floor. A sharp, agonizing shatter echoed through the room. In the chaos, Daisy fell to the ground with a cry, her forehead grazing a sharp edge. “Sister, don’t push me! I was giving it back!” But my hands were already on the floor, ignoring her, trying to gather the broken shards. The sharp stone sliced into my palms, and blood welled up instantly. The physical sting was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. I crouched there, weeping, trying to piece together the fragments. This was the last piece of myself I had left. The next second, a harsh force ripped me away. Thomas rushed over, shoving me aside so hard that I crashed onto the floor. He lifted Daisy into his arms with absolute care. When he looked back at me, his eyes held nothing but pure disgust. “Maeve, you are genuinely wicked. You couldn’t even let her keep a pendant? You deliberately hurt her. You’re vile, and you will never compare to Daisy.” He carried Daisy out of the house, his steps hurried, never once looking back at me as I lay bleeding on the floor. Outside, the rain poured. Inside, I was left alone with shattered jade and bloodied hands. I had lost the pendant, lost my hope, and finally, lost myself. Blood dripped from my fingers onto the floor. The coldness of the tiles seeped into my skin, and my phone began to ring. It was Mother Martha’s nurse from the hospital, her voice trembling with panic. “Maeve! You need to get to the medical center right now! Mr. King’s men turned off Mother Martha’s ventilator! Her oxygen levels are dropping fast! He said… he said if you don’t behave and apologize to Daisy, he won’t let them turn it back on!” My entire world crumbled. Mother Martha was the only light in my eighteen years of darkness. She was the one who shielded me when others beat and bullied me. Thomas had found my only weakness, and he was crushing it. I scrambled to my feet, stumbling out of the house into the downpour. The rain lashed against my face, blinding me as I hailed a cab. By the time I reached the hospital, I was soaked to the bone. At the end of the long hallway stood Thomas, immaculate in his black suit, holding Daisy, who had a small bandage on her forehead. When he saw me shivering and drenched, a cold, mocking smile touched his lips. My knees gave out, and I fell onto the hard floor. I looked up, stripping away every ounce of my dignity. “Thomas, please. Turn the ventilator back on. Save her. I’ll do whatever you want. I won’t fight you anymore.” Daisy leaned into his chest, her voice sweet and fragile. “Thomas, Maeve didn’t mean to push me. Let’s just forget it…” But Thomas’s voice was merciless. “If you want to save her, fine. Wear those wet, dirty clothes and crawl from this ward all the way to the outpatient clinic. Apologize to Daisy with every step.” Nurses, doctors, and patients stopped to stare, their eyes burning into me. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. For Mother Martha, I had to do it. I dragged my broken, aching body forward, my knees hitting the cold tiles over and over. Every movement felt like my leg bone was being snapped in half. The wind howling through the corridor was freezing, and my vision began to fade. With trembling hands, I dialed Christian. “Christian… please, tell Thomas to stop. Ask him to save Mother Martha. It hurts so much.” On the other end, my brother’s voice was ice. “Maeve, you brought this on yourself by hurting Daisy. Don’t humiliate the family any further.” He hung up. The last string holding me to sanity snapped. I kept crawling, repeating my apologies like a broken machine. My knees were raw and bleeding, completely numb. When it was finally over, I looked up at Thomas. “I did it. Turn it on.” Thomas gave a curt nod, instructing his assistant to restart the machine. He didn’t even spare me a glance. The adrenaline faded, and the world went black as I collapsed. When I opened my eyes, the nurse beside my bed looked at me with deep pity. “Maeve, you’re four weeks pregnant. And… the elderly woman from the orphanage passed away thirty minutes ago. We couldn’t save her.” Pregnant. And orphaned again. The double blow left my mind completely blank. I was carrying Thomas’s child, while his hands had effectively pulled the plug on the only person who had ever truly loved me. My tears soaked into the white sheets. I didn’t scream or wail. I just felt an empty, freezing void in my chest. The door opened, and Thomas walked in, looking perfectly calm. He walked to my bedside, his voice flat. “The wedding schedule is finalized. Get up and try on your dress. Don’t be late.” I kept my eyes closed, silent. He didn’t seem to care. He walked out to the balcony to take a call, leaving the glass door slightly ajar. His assistant’s hesitant voice drifted in: “Mr. King, are you really going to humiliate Maeve at the wedding by broadcasting those private photos? She’s been by your side for so long. Do you really want to put her through that publicly?” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into the fresh stitches on my palms. The scent of blood filled my nose as I held my breath, waiting for his answer. After a brief silence, Thomas spoke with cold determination. “Just this once. Making her apologize publicly is the final peace offering for Daisy. Once the wedding is over, I’ll put the past behind me and build a quiet life with Maeve.” “Just this once.” The agony I was forced to endure was merely a gift to appease another woman. I closed my eyes, the final spark of my love for him dying out. Thomas stepped back inside, his warm fingers brushing my cheek. He leaned down and kissed away my tears, his voice tender, just like all the times he had comforted me before. It was as if he hadn’t been the one who forced me to crawl on my knees just yesterday. “Maeve, did you have a bad dream? Don’t blame me. You love me too much to stay angry, right?” I trembled, my tears spilling onto his lips. “Wake her up in five minutes if she doesn’t get up,” he instructed the nurse as he left. As soon as the door closed, I pressed the call button and requested a medical abortion. The procedure was agonizingly painful, but compared to the hollow ache in my chest, it was nothing. Afterward, I discharged myself, went to the crematorium, and held Mother Martha’s ashes close to my chest. In this vast, cold world, it was just her and me again. I packed my belongings and quietly left the city behind. Before I left, I had a courier deliver three items to the wedding venue. A certified medical record of the abortion, a signed document legally cutting ties with the Aldridges, and a gold-embossed red wedding invitation. The invitation read: “Groom: Wyatt Mercer. Bride: Maeve Henderson.” At the Aldridge estate’s wedding hall, guests were waiting for the bride. Christian crushed his cigarette under his shoe and looked at Thomas. “This is the last time. Maeve is still my sister.” Thomas gave him a mock shove. “I know. If I didn’t want your family to finally appreciate her and accept her fully, I wouldn’t have gone through with this ‘apology’ stunt.” Daisy ran over, holding a box. “Look! Maeve sent this.” The box was opened, and both Thomas and Christian turned deathly pale.
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