Chapter 3

3

A few days later, Lulu was discharged from the hospital after being pampered by the whole family.

My mother was busy packing her bags, making sure she didn't lift a finger.

My father pulled the car right up to the entrance so she wouldn't have to walk an extra step.

Ryan was so overprotective he practically wanted to tie her shoelaces for her.

On the ride home, my mother started grumbling.

"That Quinn is a piece of work. She didn't visit once, let alone apologize. Just wait until we get home. I'm going to teach her a lesson!"

My father glanced at her. "I told you, keeping her in the house was a mistake. She was always going to cause trouble."

Hearing the words "teach her a lesson" made my spirit shiver.

A flood of memories rushed back to me.

Since we were kids, my mother had always favored Lulu. She always forced me to give in.

It all started because on the day Lulu was born, I had accidentally knocked over a glass of water.

My mother slipped on the spill and went into premature labor.

Lulu spent her first weeks in an incubator, and the whole family treated her like a fragile miracle.

My father had slapped me so hard back then that my eardrum burst.

"You're a jinx," he had hissed. "Your sister almost died because of you."

My mother, lying in her hospital bed, had looked at me with nothing but disappointment.

Then there was the time in elementary school when Lulu and I fought over a doll.

My father beat me so badly I couldn't get out of bed for three days.

That was my favorite toy―a gift he'd brought back from a business trip, almost as an afterthought.

Lulu had boxes full of dolls, but she wanted mine.

When I wouldn't let go, she screamed and started crying.

My mother rushed in and pulled her into a hug. "Quinn! Your sister has suffered enough because of you! What more do you want to do to her?"

"It wasn't me..." I tried to say.

But Lulu squeezed out a few tears. "Don't be mad, Mommy. It's my fault. I shouldn't have tried to play with Quinn's things."

When my father got home and saw the scene, he grabbed me by the collar.

"A cold-hearted child like you should have been thrown away at birth. You're nothing but a curse."

I cried and begged him to stop, but the more I cried, the more he thought I was faking.

My mother and brother just watched from a distance, their faces cold.

It was as if they were waiting for him to finish me off.

From that day on, I learned that any time Lulu cried, I would be the one to pay the price.

Eventually, I stopped trying to explain myself. I stopped trying to compete for their love.

And now, I was lying on a cold metal table in the hospital basement because of them.