After joining the nation's top research lab as a sophomore, everyone assumes I've taken shortcuts to get there.

Mom throws away the handmade gift I had spent days crafting and says with disdain, "I don't have a daughter who's this shameless."

Andreas Fitzgerald, my fiance, doesn't hold back, either. He warns coldly, "Remember your place as Mrs. Fitzgerald."

Later, when my younger sister, Elaine Wilde, destroys my left hand, they all pressure me to drop the matter.

I wake up in the hospital, pain crawling up my arm, and I know exactly what I have to do. Without hesitation, I dial my mentor, George Landon's, number.

"I'm ready to join the classified national rocket program."

"Ms. Isadora Wilde, are you certain you want to drop the charges against your sister, Elaine Wilde?"

"Yes. I agree to let it go," I calmly told the officer.

The officer replied, "You might want to think this through. Your left hand was corroded so badly that the bone has been exposed, and the hospital has confirmed it's a permanent disability.

"We've already confirmed that Elaine snuck into your lab and switched the materials in your container, directly causing your hand injury. With such solid evidence, even if Elaine hired the best lawyers, she couldn't escape prison time for aggravated assault."

"I don't need to think about it anymore. Thank you for everything during this time, but I'm dropping the charges, and this matter ends here."

After a long pause, the officer sighed and simply said, "If she ever does something like this to you again, remember to come to the police station. No one here will let anyone bully you."

I nodded and left the police station. That was when I received a phone call.

"Are you not at the hospital?" It was my fiance, Andreas Fitzgerald, on the phone. Just hearing his voice made my chest ache.

I paused for a moment to catch my breath before replying, "I've been discharged."

While I spent the past two weeks recovering in the hospital, Andreas had gone with Elaine to Oureiba to watch a tennis tournament. He had completely forgotten about me in the hospital.

"Where are you?" he asked.

I hid the fact that I was standing outside the police station and answered, "At the campus."

Dropping the charges against Elaine was Andreas' idea. After the acid had corroded through my flesh, I had immediately called the police. All the evidence pointed to Elaine, and the police had arrested her.

But as soon as I was wheeled out of the operating room, Andreas called me for the first time in six months and commanded, "Drop the charges against Elaine. This has nothing to do with her."

My wound throbbed with excruciating pain, but the tearing sensation in my heart was even more unbearable. At night, I lay in bed, clutching the blanket and pressing my hand to my chest, coughing violently.

In the end, I swallowed the words I wanted to say and replied, "Okay."

…

The next day, I finally dialed my mentor, George Landon's, number for the first time and told him, "I'm willing to join the rocket program."

It was a classified national project. Joining meant vanishing from the public eye for the rest of my life. I had never agreed before because I couldn't let go of Andreas.

But that day, I finally understood completely that no matter how hard I tried, Andreas would never fall in love with me. It would be better to just let him go.

George told me, "I've transferred two million dollars to your account. You've got two weeks to settle everything. After that, someone will come pick you up."

I rushed back to campus, and Andreas had just arrived as well. He sat in his car, with a strong brow line, sharp nose, and gold-rimmed glasses that framed a pair of cold, deep eyes.

When I looked up and met his gaze, my heart felt like ants were gnawing at it again. The next second, I lowered my head.

"Get in," he said.

I quietly opened the back door and sat down without a word. Neither of us said anything after that, and the truth was, we never had much to talk about in the first place. Back then, I'd try to share every little thing with him—funny stories, weird thoughts, and whatever came to mind.

He never snapped at me, but his silence was always his answer. But this time, he broke the silence himself, saying, "Happy birthday."

Confused, I checked my phone and realized that he was right. It was indeed my birthday, and he actually remembered.

I looked up. In the rearview mirror, his gaze was still cold, completely devoid of emotion. I got the message loud and clear. This wasn't about me—it was just basic courtesy, not because he cared about me.

"Thank you," I said softly.

And with that, we fell back into silence for the entire ride.

When we arrived at my house, I finally understood that he had come to celebrate Elaine's birthday.

Elaine and I were switched at birth, and she lived as part of the Wilde family for over ten years. It wasn't until high school that I was found and brought back. Even so, Elaine continued to live here as the Wilde family's precious daughter.

After getting out of the car, Andreas strode forward with his long legs.

To celebrate Elaine's birthday, the Wilde family had even trimmed the flowers outside the mansion into the shape of the words "Happy Birthday" for her.

I checked my phone, and still, no one had sent me a single message. After all these years, I thought I had gotten used to this kind of differential treatment. But seeing it again with my own eyes, my heart couldn't help but ache.

I comforted myself, thinking that it didn't matter since I was leaving anyway. Joining the rocket program meant cutting ties with the outside world forever.

Before coming here, I'd already asked my lawyer to draft the paperwork to sever all family relations. I reached into my bag and touched the documents. Then, I took a deep breath and followed behind Andreas.

"Why did you bring a maid to Elaine's birthday party? Send her back, now!" my brother, Quentin Wilde, shouted, pointing at me, who was standing behind Andreas.

I glanced down at myself—the cheap clothes I’d bought online had faded from washing, my canvas shoes were worn out, and my hands were covered in calluses from years of lab work. Compared to Elaine's elegance, I really did look more like a maid.

"Quentin, it's me," I said hoarsely.

Quentin glanced at me in shock, then his expression quickly turned to disgust. I followed behind them, tiptoeing into the house.

The last time I came home was for Mom's birthday, but she had angrily thrown away the birthday gift I'd carefully prepared. I had also been kicked out of the Wilde residence like I was nothing.

Once inside, I discovered that every corner of the house was decked out in birthday decorations, warm and inviting.

Andreas went to the study to discuss business with Dad, while Mom accompanied Elaine to her room to change clothes. Quentin, not wanting to see me for another second, slammed his bedroom door and locked it.

When I pushed open my own bedroom door, I found everything had been changed. The bed, clothes, my books, and even my completed experimental data—everything was gone.

I was frantically searching through the room when Quentin kicked the door open and stormed in. "What are you looking for? These things aren't yours to mess with!"

To make it convenient for her piano practice, they had converted my room into Elaine's music room. But I didn't care about that part.

I asked anxiously, "Where are my books and the files that were in the boxes?"

Quentin shrugged and said, "We thought you didn't want them anymore, so we gave them to Clara to sell as scrap."

When I heard those words, I felt like I'd been struck by lightning. I collapsed weakly onto the floor, closing my eyes in despair.

Those files contained nearly a year's worth of data from my round-the-clock research, and now, it was all gone. Besides, the house was massive, and they could have stored my things in the basement instead of just throwing them away when they converted my room into Elaine's music room.

George said this data could fill a gap in academic research and might even lead to the discovery of new materials for weapons manufacturing. Now, because of Elaine, everything was lost.

Quentin didn't want to deal with me anymore and turned to leave, but warned me before going, "Don't you dare dirty any of Elaine's things."

I smiled bitterly and nodded.

Half an hour later, I had composed myself and went to the kitchen to help Clara Smith prepare dinner.

At some point, Elaine appeared in the kitchen, insisting on helping with the work alongside me. She had been pampered by the Wilde family since childhood and couldn't even boil pasta properly. Whenever I was present, she always tried to humiliate me.

Clara and I tried to persuade her to leave the kitchen for a long time, but she refused. Before long, she "accidentally" spilled scalding hot water all over me. My entire upper body was soaked, and my left hand went numb from the burns.

I stood there in shock, and Clara quickly applied ice packs to help with the burns.

Mom rushed in after hearing the noise. "Elaine, what were you doing in the kitchen? Your hands are for writing papers and playing piano!"

Elaine looked like she was on the verge of tears, her voice trembling. "Mom, am I useless? I couldn't even do such a simple thing. I not only burned Isadora, but I also lost the ring Andy gave me."

Ring?

When I first came back, Grandpa had arranged for me and Andreas to be engaged. But not even a month later, he passed away.

I glanced at my finger, and for some reason, I wanted to laugh.

Mom immediately started comforting Elaine. Then, she ordered everyone to help her find the ring.

Elaine said, "I think I saw it fall right under Isadora's feet. Isadora, you don't mind getting down and helping me look for it, right?"

My wounds from back then weren't even healed yet, and now with the burn, I was already starting to lose consciousness as I leaned against the counter. Yet, Mom didn't even glance at me and ordered me to pick it up for Elaine.

I forced myself to stay conscious and said, "Okay."

This would be the last time we met, so I'd consider it repayment for their years of raising me.

Crawling on the floor, I quickly found the ring. Before I could lift my hand, Elaine's foot stomped hard on the back of my hand. However, the more I struggled to break free, the harder she pressed down. She didn't move her foot until her high heel had torn through the skin on my hand.

After that, she snatched the ring from my hand and put it on like she was showing off, asking, "Andy gave it to me. Isn't it beautiful?"

Elaine had never done any household work and had beauticians come to the house weekly for treatments, so her hands were as tender as a newborn baby's. Unlike me, with my rough hands from years of lab work.

I glanced over and noticed Andreas standing in the doorway at some point, staring directly at me. I lowered my head and said indifferently, "I wish you both the best."

Not seeing me get angry or embarrassed as she'd hoped, Elaine stomped her foot in frustration and left the kitchen. But right then, the wine glass in Andreas' hand suddenly shattered.

I looked up to see him standing in the kitchen doorway with glass shards scattered in his palm, drops of blood falling from his fingers. Just one look was enough to make anyone's heart race with alarm. Even so, Andreas seemed oblivious to the pain, letting the glass cut into his hand.

The veins in his hands had bulged, and his eyes had turned bloodshot as his gaze was fixed intensely on me.

I turned away and walked back into the kitchen.

Elaine was unbelievably lucky. Even though she wasn't my parents' biological daughter, they still adored her like she was.

Quentin gifted her a custom luxury gown and said, "Here's to my beloved sister, Elaine! I hope you always stay as beautiful as you are!"

Meanwhile, my parents gave her a condo and a limited-edition sports car.

Elaine happily kissed each of them on the cheek. "Thank you, Dad and Mom. And you, too, Quentin!"

I sat quietly in a corner, eating my dinner in silence. Their joyful interactions made them look like a real family.

Andreas had prepared a necklace, but Elaine wasn't satisfied with it.

Mom said, "Elaine has been wanting to work in Professor Landon's lab recently. Andy, doesn't your father know him well? Could you help her get in through proper channels?"

When Mom spoke, she deliberately emphasized the words "proper channels". The professor she mentioned was my mentor, George, whose lab was notoriously difficult to get into. During my sophomore year, he made an exception to recruit me.

Someone had spread rumors that I'd slept with my senior, Samuel Godfrey, to force myself into the program.

Later, when people asked Elaine about it, she said with a dazed expression, "I don't know. Isadora often doesn't come home, so I don't know what she's up to..."

From then on, everyone believed I was sleeping my way around for opportunities. Some people even defended Elaine, going to George to complain that since Elaine had published in academic journals as a freshman, why hadn't he chosen her instead?

George had only responded with one sentence. "I don't take manipulative students."

Elaine had stolen that paper from me and published it under her name. However, I hadn't explained a word, because even if I had, no one in the family would have believed me.

Before returning to the Wilde family, I had grown up in the countryside, and Mom often said that people from rural areas had dirty habits, and who knew what bad behaviors I'd picked up?

Andreas shook his head and said, "Even when I offered to donate 200 million in funding, Professor Landon said he's not hiring anyone for now."

Quentin questioned me angrily, "Isadora, did you badmouth Elaine to Professor Landon? How can you be so scheming?"

I shook my head and said calmly, "The team doesn't need anyone right now."

Since I was about to leave, the team was actually hiring, but with Elaine's academic abilities, Georg would never consider her.

"Not hiring? Then quit so Elaine can take your place!" Mom commanded.

"Isadora, you're not doing much at Professor Landon's lab anyway, so hurry up and give your spot to Elaine!" Quentin chimed in.

I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Grabbing my bag, I quickly ran outside.

Mom shouted after me, "Stop right there!"

I stood still and told her, "I've transferred one million dollars to your account. Thank you for raising me all these years, but from now on, we have no ties."

Actually, they hadn't really raised me at all. Before age 17, I had lived with my grandparents in the countryside. After they brought me back, they barely looked at me because all their affection went to Elaine. I had even paid my own high school tuition through part-time jobs.

Nonetheless, they had given me life. Out of the two million I received for joining the rocket program, I used one million to treat my injured arm and sent the other to Mom.

Mom said with disgust, "What? Do you think you can cut ties with me for one million dollars? Even if you want to cut ties, I don't want your dirty money!"

My heart clenched for a moment. This wasn't dirty money—it was money I'd earned by trading away my freedom for the rest of my life.

I closed my eyes, no longer willing to explain anything. I asked, "What do you want? As long as I have it, I can give it to you."