Chapter 3

3.

Since Serena was faking her illness, the doctors couldn't find a single thing wrong.

After a few days of observation, my mother―the chief surgeon―insisted on discharging her.

My father called for a private driver, and my brother spent his entire morning waiting in line for Serena's favorite pastries.

I was long used to this.

There was never a limit to how much they would pamper her.

On the way home, my brother complained about me, his brow furrowed so deeply it looked like it could crush a fly.

"Mom, Dad, Elara is truly beyond the pale. She hasn't even shown up to check on Serena once! She started this whole disaster, yet she refuses to take any responsibility."

My father exhaled sharply, his expression grim. "It's appalling. I've said it before: she has no upbringing. She doesn't deserve to be a Vance. Once we get home, I'll teach her a lesson she won't forget."

Hearing my father devalue me to the dirt, I felt a familiar, dull throb in my chest.

Since I was a breech birth, my mother had blamed me for her postpartum depression. From that moment on, she had detested me.

On the day Serena was born, I wasn't even allowed in the room to see her; I was considered bad luck.

As Serena grew, she was a brat who insisted I play the role of her servant.

Once, during a family outing, Serena ignored my warnings and insisted on flying a kite near a rocky path.

She stumbled and scraped her forehead against the ground.

Without hesitation, my father backhanded me, knocking me to the ground.

"I told you to take care of your sister! Look at what you've done, you useless waste of space!"

It felt as if my only purpose in life was to orbit around the sun that was Serena.

This happened all the time.

One day, she wanted a doll of mine.

It was a birthday gift from my parents, one of the few things I cherished.

But because Serena wanted it, she staged a performance to make it look like I was bullying her.

One moment she was gloating, the next she was sobbing at the top of her lungs.

My mother rushed in, scooping her up. "Serena, my baby, what happened?"

Serena wailed, shedding crocodile tears. "Mom, I'm sorry. It's all my fault―I made my sister angry…"

My mother glared at me, screaming, "Elara, you've crossed the line once too often! Serena is only humble because she's your sister. How dare you act like this?"

"I think I've spoiled you far too much!" My father's voice roared as he arrived to back Serena up.

Before I could speak, he grabbed a feather duster and beat me mercilessly.

The physical pain was bad, but the heartbreak was far worse.

I begged for mercy, but only received deeper punishment and verbal abuse.

Meanwhile, my mother held Serena close, while my sister gave me a smug, innocent smile―a silent, cruel taunt.

After that, it happened every time.

I learned to endure, to swallow my pain, and to give everything away.

Just like now, Serena only had to utter a few words, and they acted as judges, handing down a verdict against me.

Even as a soul, the residual phantom pain in my heart was still so vivid.

My spirit followed them home.

The moment they walked through the door, my mother hurried to set up Serena's bed so she could rest.

"Quick, quick, don't let my sweet angel get tired!"

Serena touched her empty stomach. "I'm starving after that long drive!"

My father dove into the kitchen to prepare her favorite dishes.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry. I didn't think it through. Serena, just wait a moment, I'll whip up a feast for you!"

My brother, ever the sycophant, opened her tablet and queued up her favorite show.

The entire family busied themselves for Serena, creating a picture of domestic bliss.

Watching this familiar yet alien scene, I felt like an outsider once again.

Serena's face finally lit up with a satisfied smile, and she happened to be looking in my direction.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

My brother rushed to answer it.

A handsome young man in a white shirt stood there, holding boxes of Serena's favorite snacks. He smiled politely, "I heard Serena was sick, so I came to check on her."

It was Silas Sterling, my childhood sweetheart and fiancé.

Hearing his cool, calm voice, Serena's eyes lit up. She didn't even bother with her shoes as she rushed to him, feigning bashfulness. "Silas, why are you here? My brother must have told you, right?"

"I'm okay, don't worry about me!"

Under her adoring gaze, Silas smiled with such indulgence, reaching out to ruffle her hair.

The school heartthrob, usually so proud and unreachable, stepped down from his pedestal just to catch a glimpse of her smile.

I had never seen him look at me that way.