My younger sister was in love. The moment the news broke, the entire household went into a frenzy. My older brother, Trevor, cracked his knuckles with a series of loud, sharp pops. “Who is he? What kind of bastard thinks he can date my baby sister?” Mom shook her head, her face lined with immediate disapproval. “Brianna, sweetheart, you’re still young. You don’t know how cruel the world is. Break it off—there are plenty of better men out there.” Dad slammed his palm onto the coffee table with a thud that rattled the porcelain. “End it. Immediately!” The moment they noticed the tears welling up in Brianna’s eyes, however, their sharp edges melted away in an instant. “Oh, don’t cry, honey. Tell you what—bring him over for Thanksgiving dinner. Let us meet him first, okay?” Then their eyes drifted to me, and their tone turned flat, an afterthought slapped together with lazy indifference. “Piper, you’re not as pretty as your sister, and you’ve always been too blunt for your own good. You should consider yourself lucky anyone wants you at all.” “Don’t be so picky. Just lock the marriage down and be done with it.” Trevor chimed in with a casual, dismissive chuckle. “She’s right. You two have been together for five years. The guy hasn’t dumped you yet and actually wants to marry you—that alone means he’s got decent character.” They didn’t ask if my boyfriend treated me well. They didn’t ask if his parents were good people. They didn’t even suggest meeting him. They just gave their blessing, swift and careless. Not because my boyfriend was a catch. Simply because, in their eyes, I was worth nothing at all. I took a slow, deep breath and drank the lukewarm tea in my cup down to the dregs. If they didn’t love me, I would choose a family that did. From this day forward, you have your life, and I have mine. … “You really don’t want to meet him?” After a long pause, I finally spoke up, unable to swallow that last bitter drop of resentment. Mom set her teacup down, avoiding my gaze with a vague, dismissive wave of her hand. “There’s no need. With you, we don’t have to worry.” Was it trust? Or was it just complete apathy? I looked down at the solitaire ring sitting on my left ring finger. The quiet joy of my recent engagement felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped straight over my head. The chill penetrated all the way to my bones. Honestly, I should have been used to it by now. Used to being invisible in my own home. Used to their complete lack of concern. Used to the undeniable truth that they simply did not love me. And yet, a small part of me still wanted to tell them. I wanted to tell them that my fiancé’s name was Logan Mercer. That he loved me deeply. That his parents ran a successful business and treated me like their own daughter. I had memorized every possible question my parents might ask, rehearsing the answers late into the night. But they didn’t care to ask. Because I wasn’t Brianna. Just look at her now. I raised my eyes to see Brianna sitting with her arms crossed, her chin tilted up in a familiar posture of spoiled arrogance. “Ugh, why are you all asking so many questions?” she pouted. “I’m telling you right now, you better be nice to my boyfriend. This is my very first real relationship! If you scare him off, I’ll never forgive you!” Trevor raised an eyebrow, his tone protective and fiercely sharp. “He wouldn’t dare run. If he steps out of line, I’ll knock his teeth down his throat.” Mom softened her voice into a gentle, motherly instruction. “Brianna, a woman should always hold herself high. Don’t go chasing after a man.” “You don’t need to cling desperately to one person like your sister does. If it doesn’t work out, your father and I will take care of you forever.” “Besides, didn’t you always want a walk-in closet? Once your sister moves out after her wedding, we’ll convert her bedroom into a walk-in closet for you, okay?” Dad was a man of few words, but he nodded emphatically, endorsing Mom’s idea without a second thought. Right in front of my face, they were already reallocating my personal space. Not a single thought was spared for how I might feel. Because as long as Brianna was in the room, I was invisible. I was plain, quiet, and reserved. I lacked Brianna’s bright, effervescent charm. I lacked her effortless knack for saying precisely what people wanted to hear. Brianna only had to exist, and without lifting a finger, she commanded the devotion of everyone around her. Including the love of our parents. When I was little, I tried fighting for it. I fought so hard. When Brianna brought home a report card with top marks, I stayed up night after night, pushing myself to the absolute limit, determined to outdo her. And when I finally brought home my own first-place certificate, holding it out like a sacred peace offering, I whispered, “Mom, Dad… can you love me a little more now?” Trevor was the first to laugh. He told me I was living in a fantasy world. Then he turned around and bribed Brianna with a giant box of imported chocolates to cheer her up because she felt upstaged. Mom merely patted my head absentmindedly, reminding me that Brianna was my little sister, before rushing into the kitchen to cook a feast of Brianna’s favorite dishes. Dad’s eyes didn’t linger on my certificate for even a second. A forty-year-old man, he spent the rest of the evening crawling around on the rug, playing horsey so Brianna could ride on his back. Nobody cared about my achievement. Nobody noticed the quiet girl standing alone in the corner, swallowing her tears in the shadows. Years passed, and Brianna grew up and fell in love. My family extended their unconditional warmth to her boyfriend by default. When it came to me, there was still nothing. Fortunately, I was no longer that helpless child starving for affection. I looked at Dad and couldn’t help asking, “Dad, you always said you’d never want your daughters to move far away. Logan’s family lives in Chicago. Does that bother you?” Dad blinked, his face immediately darkening into a stern frown. He turned directly to Brianna. “Where is your boyfriend from? If he lives outside the state—hell, if he lives outside this city—I won’t give my consent.” I froze in my seat. After a long moment, I let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh. So the word “daughter” in his rulebook had never applied to me. I stood up and walked back to my room without another word. Opening the text chain with Logan, I typed out the words one by one. “I want to marry you.” “Take me away from here, please.” A second later, his reply illuminated my screen. “I’m on my way.” The next morning, Mom and Dad formally summoned everyone into the living room. Mom reached out and pushed two thick greeting cards across the coffee table—one to me, one to Brianna. Brianna opened hers first. A polished brass key slid out into her palm. She blinked, looking at Mom in confusion. Mom exchanged a warm glance with Dad before handing Brianna a crisp leather binder. Brianna opened it. Inside was the deed to a brand-new, twelve-hundred-square-foot condominium. Fully registered in her name. Mom patted the back of Brianna’s hand affectionately. “We weren’t planning on giving this to you so soon, but before we knew it, you’re already old enough to bring a boyfriend home.” “Consider this a gift from your father and me. It’s your security blanket, no matter what happens.” Brianna threw her arms around them, sobbing tears of overwhelmed joy. “Mom! Dad! How can you be so good to me?!” Mom pinched her cheek affectionately. “Because you’re our baby girl.” Brianna wiped the corner of her eyes and glanced over at me. “Piper, what did Mom and Dad get you?” I slid my card open. Inside was a small stack of fresh hundred-dollar bills. I counted them. Six hundred dollars in total. I raised my eyes to look at Mom. She seemed to anticipate my question, her tone flattening into something cool and distant. “You’re an adult now, and you’re getting married soon. Your father and I don’t have much left to spare, but this is a small gesture from us.” My breath hitched. I couldn’t help but glance at the property deed gripped tightly in Brianna’s hand. Noticing my gaze, Brianna pulled the deed close to her chest, her voice laced with smug satisfaction. “Mom and Dad bought this for me. You don’t get one. Na-na-na-na-na!” Dad looked at me, his voice quiet, but laced with a clear warning. “Don’t go eyeing your sister’s things. That belongs to Brianna.” “You’re moving away to marry out of state anyway. Even if we bought you a condo here, you wouldn’t be living in it.” “There’s no point in us throwing money down the drain.” Because I was moving away, six hundred dollars was all I was worth. For the longest time, I had wanted to ask them if I was truly their biological child. I had even asked my late grandmother once, and later, secretly ordered a DNA test. The results came back undeniable: I was their biological daughter. Yet in that moment, I found myself wishing I had been adopted from an orphanage instead. At least then, the coldness wouldn’t cut quite so deep. Trevor spoke up next. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black bank card, sliding it across the glass table toward Brianna. His voice was dripping with fondness. “I can’t afford to be as generous as Mom and Dad, but I’m giving you everything I’ve saved.” “It’s not a fortune, but it’s more than enough to cover the interior design and renovations for your new place.” Mom smiled proudly from the side, adding, “Your brother saved up nearly forty thousand dollars since he started working, and he’s giving every cent of it to you.” “Don’t you go turning your nose up at it.” Brianna’s tears spilled over once again. “Trevor, you’re the best brother in the world!” Trevor ruffled her hair, his eyes filled with fierce, protective devotion. “I just want you to know that no matter who your boyfriend is, if he ever treats you poorly, you come straight back home.” “We’ll always be here for you.” I stood on the fringe of the room like a ghost, an intruder crashing a private family moment. I felt entirely, utterly superfluous. When I turned to leave, Trevor’s voice called out from behind me. “Piper.” I stopped in my tracks and turned around. Trevor stepped forward. “Don’t you want your gift?” “I get one too?” “You’re my sister, aren’t you?” That single line brought a tiny flicker of warmth back to my frozen heart. Trevor opened his hand. A delicate gold chain lay resting in his palm, featuring a pendant carved in the shape of a rose. I recognized it instantly. It was the birthday gift Trevor had bought for Brianna two years ago—the one Brianna had tossed aside because she thought the design was tacky. And now, her discarded trash was being offered to me as a generous gesture. A sharp, familiar pain throbbed behind my ribs. I forced a faint smile, looking straight into my brother’s eyes, pronouncing every word with quiet clarity. “Thank you. This is the most expensive thing I’ve received today.” The warm, lively atmosphere in the room instantly froze into dead silence. Brianna’s sharp voice broke the quiet like shattering glass. “Piper! How can you talk like that?!” “A gift is about the thought behind it, not the price tag! It’s from your family!” Thoughtfulness was reserved for her. Indifference was reserved for me. In this house, we were nothing more than familiar strangers living under the same roof. I looked at them, said nothing further, and walked straight into my bedroom. Behind me, I could hear Trevor comforting Brianna in a low voice. “Ah, ignore her. You know how bitter and competitive she’s been ever since we were kids.” “We’re used to it by now.” As the bedroom door clicked shut, tears finally spilled over my lashes, hot and heavy. Competitive? I was competing for their love. Did they truly not know that? … At three in the afternoon, there was a knock on my door. It was Mom, with Brianna hovering close behind her. Mom thrust a bucket, a string mop, and a stack of rags directly into my hands. “Brianna’s boyfriend is coming over tomorrow for the holiday. Deep clean the entire house. Don’t make your sister look bad.” I raised my eyes to look at them. Both of them were dressed in elegant tailored dresses, their hair styled, their makeup flawless. My hands tightened around the aluminum handle of the mop. I pointed a finger at Brianna. “What about her? What is she doing?” Mom frowned, her expression instantly twisting into irritation. “I’m taking Brianna to the mall to pick out a new outfit. She’s the star of the show tomorrow; she needs to look her best.” “Stop comparing yourself to your sister all the time. She’s not like you.” Without waiting for a response, Mom grabbed Brianna’s hand and turned toward the front door, leaving no room for argument. She seemed to have completely forgotten that I was the one getting married soon. Compared to Brianna, I was the one who actually needed to prepare. But did Mom actually care? By the time I finished scrubbing every corner of the house, it was five in the afternoon. Trevor arrived home from work. Without a second thought, his heavy dress shoes stepped right onto the hardwood floor I had just spent two hours mopping. He was carrying two bouquets of red roses. One was a massive, extravagant bunch of ninety-nine long-stemmed roses; the other was a modest bundle of nine. He quickly hid the large bouquet behind his back, leaving a trail of dusty footprints across the living room floor toward Brianna’s room before walking back toward me. He extended the smaller bundle of nine roses toward my face. “Here. These are for you. I’m surprising Brianna with the big ones later, so keep it quiet.” I held the small bundle of roses. Within seconds, my nose began to itch, and a familiar pressure built behind my eyes. My chest constricted tightly. When Brianna was born, Trevor and I had been in the exact same position. Left in the quiet corner of a hospital waiting room, forgotten by the rest of the world. Back then, it was Trevor who had taken my hand. He had understood my confusion and fear, protecting my fragile young heart from feeling completely abandoned. I used to believe that no matter how cold my parents were, I would always have my brother. But as Brianna grew older, the moment she uttered her very first “Big Brother,” my remaining crumb of comfort was swept away. Trevor had rationalized it to me then: “She’s my sister too, Piper. It’s not fair to leave her out.” Yet as time went on, the only person subjected to unfairness was me. His heart had tilted completely toward her. Seeing my eyes turn red and watery, Trevor let out an amused laugh. “It’s just a few flowers. Is it really that big of a deal to be this emotional?” “Did your boyfriend buy you over with cheap tricks like this?” I set the bouquet down on the counter and wiped the tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. “He’s never bought me roses,” I said softly. “Because he knows I’m severely allergic to pollen.” The arrogant smirk on Trevor’s face instantly collapsed. After a long pause, he offered a flat apology, though his expression carried no genuine remorse. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know. I was just trying to make Brianna happy.” “The florist said if I bought the ninety-nine stems, they’d throw in a bundle of nine for free. I had no idea you were allergic.” So even the flowers that triggered my allergies were merely an unwanted freebie attached to Brianna’s happiness. My lips parted. I wanted to remind him that he “did” know. On the day of my high school graduation, he had brought me flowers, and he had watched me break out in hives and end up in the urgent care clinic. In the end, only three words escaped my lips. “It doesn’t matter.” It really didn’t matter anymore. Once I got married and left, we would merely be distant relatives, not family. … The following day, the house was packed with extended family. Aunts and uncles had flooded the living room the moment they heard Brianna was bringing a boyfriend home, eager to offer advice and inspect the new suitor. Trevor sat on the sofa, keeping them entertained with drinks and conversation. I was the only one in the kitchen. Despite the air conditioner humming at seventy degrees, I was drenched in sweat from standing over four burning stove burners. When the twelfth and final dish was placed on the dining table, I stood beside the chair, unmoving. Mom glanced over at me, her brow furrowing into a tight line. “Sit down and eat. What are you standing there like a statue for?” I surveyed the table, my face devoid of expression. “Eat what?” “There’s plenty of rice left in the cooker, isn’t there? Just pour some of the dish juices over your rice and mix it together.” Dad picked up his chopsticks, plucked the very last jumbo shrimp from the serving platter, and placed it neatly into Brianna’s bowl. He offered a casual critique without looking up at me. “Your sister gets low blood sugar easily. Next time, get the food on the table faster.” My hands tightened around the strings of my apron until my knuckles turned white. One hour. Ten people. Twelve labor-intensive dishes. Was that still not fast enough? And what had they left for me? Scraps, empty shells, and cold grease on stained platters. Why? Why was I never a thought in anyone’s mind? I untied the apron strings and pulled it off over my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not eating.” Brianna’s voice rang out from the head of the table. “Piper, I want some cold watermelon.” Mom echoed immediately, “Since you’re done eating, go slice up the watermelon in the fridge.” With that, Mom turned back to the aunt sitting next to her, launching into a loud discussion about the formal protocol for receiving Brianna’s boyfriend. Not a single soul looked at me. Not a single soul cared whether I was starving. I turned around, walked into the kitchen, and pulled open the heavy refrigerator door. The blast of cool air hit my face, and tears instantly blurred my vision. I sliced the watermelon in half, grabbed a large spoon, and scooped out the cold, sweet center of the melon. It was crisp, sugary, and icy cold. Mom’s voice drifted in from the living room once more. “Piper! Clear the dining table when you’re done, and don’t forget your sister’s watermelon!” I swallowed the final bite of the watermelon core. I washed my hands, wiped the corners of my mouth, and walked slowly into the living room. Looking straight at Mom, I said clearly, “There is no watermelon left.” Trevor looked up, a hint of confusion crossing his face. “How could there be none? I specifically bought a large one for Brianna yesterday.” My voice remained level. “I ate it.” The living room fell into an absolute dead silence. Everyone turned to stare at me in sheer disbelief. Brianna’s voice suddenly cracked with exaggerated distress. “After a heavy meal, that’s the only thing I was looking forward to! Piper, why couldn’t you save even one piece for me?!” I met her eyes with a blank stare. “And what about me? Did any of you leave a single bite of food for me?” An awkward, tense air settled over the room. Within seconds, the relatives began making hasty excuses to leave. “Oh, Robert, look at the time! I forgot I left something on the stove at home. We should head out.” “Yes, yes, we have errands to run too.” “We’ll take our leave now!” The crowd scattered in a matter of seconds. Mom’s face flushed a deep, furious crimson. “Piper!” “You think you’re all grown up now, don’t you? Your wings are fully fledged! We ask you to cook a simple meal for the family, and you act like you’re being tortured?!” “What about me?! I’ve been buying groceries and cooking for this family for over thirty years! Did I ever complain about being mistreated?!” It was always like this. Every single time I expressed an ounce of dissatisfaction or made Mom unhappy, she immediately retreated behind the impenetrable wall of maternal sacrifice to lecture me. And I was always expected to bow my head and take it. But I refused to play my part any longer. “Yes, I do feel mistreated,” I said, my voice ringing loud and clear through the quiet house. “Mom, did you cook for thirty years just for me? Did Dad not eat? Did Trevor and Brianna not eat?” “I learned how to cook not because I enjoyed it, but because I wanted to help you, to lighten your load so you wouldn’t be so tired!” “So why is it that after I spend hours sweating over a stove, I don’t even deserve a piece of watermelon?!” I shook my head, taking a step backward. “I wish I was never born into this family.” Trevor surged up from the sofa, his voice booming with rage. “Piper! Do you even hear the garbage coming out of your mouth?!” “So you missed one damn meal—what’s the big deal?! She is our mother!” Dad slammed his fist onto the dining table with terrifying force. “Enough! Over a stupid piece of fruit, you make a scene and make us the laughingstock of the entire neighborhood!” “Your mother gave birth to you and raised you for twenty-seven years, only to raise an ungrateful leech!” “Besides, that watermelon was bought by Trevor specifically for Brianna. Eating it without her permission is stealing!” I threw my head back and laughed. I laughed until my stomach ached and tears streamed down my face. After a long moment, I straightened my spine and looked around the room. The automated massage chair in the corner—I bought it because Dad complained about his bad back. The solid gold jewelry resting against Mom’s neck—I bought it because she loved showing off in front of her friends. The custom high-end gaming PC in Trevor’s room—I bought it because he loved playing video games. The entire wall of rare collectible figurines in Brianna’s room—I bought them because she was my little sister. And today, because I ate a piece of watermelon, I was labeled a thief in my own home. I pressed my wrists together and thrust them toward them, my voice dripping with icy sarcasm. “Why don’t you call the police and have me arrested then?” Mom stared at me, her eyes filled with cold hatred, looking at me not as a daughter, but as a sworn enemy. After a long pause, she spoke, her tone terrifyingly cold. “Either you throw that watermelon back up, or you pay us back for everything.” Brianna tugged gently at Mom’s sleeve, pretending to be the peacemaker. “Mom, don’t fight over this. I won’t eat watermelon anymore, okay?” She turned to me. “Piper, just apologize. She’s our mother, after all.” Brianna had never been an outright villain. She was spoiled, but not inherently cruel. Yet she was the eternal, unquestioned beneficiary of every slice of injustice in this house. And for that, I hated her. “Fine. I’ll pay you back,” I said. I pulled out the greeting card containing the six hundred dollars Mom and Dad had given me earlier and slapped it onto the table. “Is this enough?” “Enough?!” Mom sneered. “We raised you for twenty-seven years! We poured endless time, money, and energy into you! Do you think your upbringing is only worth six hundred dollars?!” She looked down at me as if looking at a pathetic bug beneath her shoe. “Three hundred thousand dollars. You pay us three hundred thousand dollars, and you can go do whatever the hell you want! We won’t give a damn about you ever again!” The blood in my veins turned to ice. My throat felt as though it had been filled with lead. I couldn’t squeeze out a single word. Mom took a step forward, towering over me. “Don’t have it, do you?” I stared at her numbly, silent. Mom let out a cold, triumphant laugh. “If you don’t have it, then shut your mouth!” “This house isn’t run by you.” She turned and strode away, throwing a final command over her shoulder. “Clean up the mess on the table and wash the dishes.” Dad, Trevor, and Brianna followed behind her, slipping back into their respective rooms. The heavy thud of closing doors echoed through the hallway. My knees gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor, tears overflowing and washing over my cheeks. Was I wrong? Was I wrong to eat that piece of watermelon? Or was I wrong to finally stand up for myself? I didn’t know. All I knew was that my parents’ love had a precise price tag on it. Three hundred thousand dollars. Suddenly, I felt so ridiculously expensive. So expensive that I could never afford their conditional, nonexistent love. … Over the next few days, as if by silent agreement, the entire family united to punish me on Mom’s behalf. The lock on the front door was changed without my knowledge. When meals were served, there was no place set for me at the table. Even the Wi-Fi password was changed to exclude my devices. Fortunately, my wedding day was only a few days away. On the day Logan arrived in town, it was the day before Thanksgiving. I put on a simple white dress he had bought for me and applied a light coat of makeup. When I walked out the door, no one asked where I was going, and no one asked what I was doing. And I offered no explanations. I simply walked out, took Logan’s hand firmly into mine, and walked straight into City Hall. Check-in, taking a number, waiting in line, signing the documents, and taking the oath. I went through every single step with absolute devotion. The moment the clerk handed us our marriage certificate, I broke down and cried. Logan pulled me gently into his arms, resting his chin on my head, whispering soft words of comfort into my ear. In that quiet moment, I knew I had finally found my real family. … When I returned to the house to pack the last of my essential documents, it was already Thanksgiving Day. The dining table was piled high with holiday treats, roasted meats, and fresh fruit. I walked into the kitchen. “Mom.” She turned around, her voice icy. “Know your place now?” I shook my head. “I’m leaving…” Before I could finish my sentence, Brianna barged into the kitchen, cutting me off with an excited squeal. “Mom! My boyfriend is here!” Without listening to another word from me, Mom brushed past my shoulder and hurried out. I watched through the doorway as Mom and Dad sat side by side on the sofa, assuming the proud, dignified posture of prospective in-laws preparing to inspect a daughter’s suitor. That kind of enthusiastic attention was a luxury I would never receive in this house. I smiled faintly. I took nothing with me—no clothes, no childhood mementos. I walked downstairs and climbed into the passenger seat of Logan’s car. The engine roared to life, and the car sped away, leaving the house far behind us. From this day forward, if we ever met again, we would merely be distant relatives.
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