Before the expert arranged by my father arrived, I heard my brother and mother’s conversation.

“Deon, Janette has already been punished. Do we still need to arrange for those reporters to come to the hospital to expose her for plagiarism today? After all, we don't have any substantial evidence."

My brother sighed, his tone decisive as he stated, “It has to be exposed! Her vocal cords are already damaged and she has no choice but to retire. A little more dirt thrown her way won’t matter to her now.

“Only in this way can Eugenia gain the sympathy of the judges and her chances of winning the Golden Melody Award will be much greater.”

“Eugenia was raised by us, she can't possibly lie. Even if there is no evidence, I have a way to testify.”

My father told my brother, “Don't be too protective of Janette in front of the reporters. Let her realize her mistakes and smooth her edges.”

My brother responded in a deep voice, “Yes.”

I laid on the hospital bed in despair, but my tears had already dried up.

Ten years ago, I was found by my brother because of the singing competition video I made in the orphanage.

After they recognized me and took me back, I put in more effort and hard work than Eugenia and was admitted to the most famous music college together with her.

Later, I created the song “The Moon Under the Sea,” which was nominated for the Golden Melody Award.

But my brother believed what Eugenia said and wanted to give false testimony for her to destroy my reputation.

My heart was broken. If I had known this would happen, I would never have gone home with them.

The door of the ward was violently pushed open and a group of reporters with cameras and guns rushed in.

I laid on the hospital bed, unable to move and watched them slander me.

“Janette, I heard that you were punished by those haters because you plagiarized your sister's work. Do you know your mistake now?”

"I heard they cut off your vocal cords and broke your arms and legs. Are you going to become a mute cripple?"

The female reporter in the front row asked with indignation and suddenly withdrew the microphone and laughed.

“I almost forgot that you cannot speak now, so let's show it to everyone!”

She pulled away the towel blanket from my body, revealing my broken and twisted hands and feet.

“Now that your limbs are broken, you should not be able to copy your sister's songs anymore, right?”

"That's not necessarily true. Maybe he can be a disabled but strong-willed plagiarist. Isn't it true that some people can type with their tongues?"

The male reporter next to him was full of ridicule and disdain.

Everyone surrounded me and took pictures. Their contempt and ridicule were like knives stabbing straight into my heart.

I felt extremely humiliated but could not open my mouth to refute. My red and swollen eyes were filled with tears again.

“Janette, you are still pretending to be pitiful, right? Don't you plan to apologize to your sister?”

Seeing me like this, the female reporter put the camera to my face and started a live broadcast.

“Famous singer-songwriter, Janette Hendrix, was crippled by fans in retaliation for stealing her sister, Eugenia Hendrix's original songs."

Tears blurred my vision. I wanted to hide, but even the slightest movement felt like a distant luxury.

The flash lights went on and off, recording my humiliating and embarrassed appearance.

“This is a private hospital. Who allowed you to enter the ward without permission?” My brother rushed in and yelled at them to leave.

My mother quickly covered me with the blanket again and my father angrily scolded the reporters, “If you don't leave now, I'll sue you. Get out!”

“Mr. and Mrs. Hendrix, as senior veterans in the industry, are you actually choosing to cover up for plagiarism?”

The reporters kept asking and a clear and pleasant female voice rang out, “As expected, a biological daughter is more important than an adopted daughter, right?”

“My parents are both talented singers. Without their careful training, I would not be who I am today.

“They have never been partial to me, but Janette, as their elder sister, is always jealous of their kindness to me.”

Eugenia was dressed in a pure and noble manner, pushing through the crowd and walking slowly towards them.

Her eyes were red and swollen, as if she had been crying for a long time.

“Sister, please stop making the same mistake over and over again. You've already implicated our parents, is that not enough?

“If you want a Golden Melody Award, I'll give it to you. If you want the love of your parents and brother, I'll give it to you too.

“Please stop doing stupid things, okay? I really can't bear to see you become like this."

She burst into tears and knelt down beside my bed.

I became emotional and typed the following line with my palm, [You’re lying! I wrote that song. I have proof.]

The whole audience was in an uproar and reporters took photos one after another, but they still did not believe what I said.

My brother pulled her up, his brows furrowed. “It's not your fault, Eugenia. Calm down," he said.

After that, he turned around, stared at me with a steely gaze and said, “Janette, don't make excuses now. I don't want to see you going further down the wrong path.”

As he spoke, he whispered a few words to Eugenia.

Eugenia's face turned pale, she bit her lower lip and shook her head desperately.

“No, I won't do that. My sister's reputation will be ruined."

My brother became anxious and raised his voice a few notches higher as he yelled, “It's already this late. If you don't show her the evidence, she will continue to be stubborn and won't let go!” 

Everyone heard it clearly. Eugenia clearly had evidence that proved I had plagiarized.

Our parents also sighed and urged Eugenia to take it out quickly.

Under everyone's gaze, Eugenia slowly took out a few pieces of paper.

It turned out to be the handwritten manuscript I created at the beginning, even the few lines of lyrics that I deleted are exactly the same.

Eugenia burst into tears and talked about the original intention of her creation.

She actually knew exactly what I was thinking and even told me all my creative ideas.

I looked at her in horror, but could only utter a few low hoarse sounds.

How could she know so much? Impossible!

But no one gave me any more chances and the reporters urged me to produce evidence.

I flipped through my phone desperately, only to find that all the drafts of my creations that were originally stored in it were gone.

In despair, my parents and brother waved away the reporters.

My mother hugged me and cried, “Are all the bodyguards you stationed at the door dead?! Don’t let them in like this!”

“Janette, I'm sorry. It's all our fault for not keeping a close eye on them and letting them in. We will immediately ask Deon to block the news they got.

“It doesn’t matter who wrote this song; you’re still our good daughter.”

Despair and bitterness twisted in my chest.

Really? Then why did you destroy me for Eugenia?

Why did you let me be tormented and my reputation shattered?

But after achieving their goal, they still acted out these hypocritical family ties. Wasn't it disgusting?

A feeling of distress surged in my chest and I spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Janette!”

“Sister!”

Before everything was completely dark, I heard my parents and brother calling for a doctor in panic.

“Even if her vocal cords are replaced, speaking will be a struggle and singing is out of the question. The injuries to her fingers and legs have been left untreated for too long—I fear there will be lasting aftereffects.”

My parents roared angrily, “No matter how much it costs, you must do your best to cure her.”

My brother also shouted, “Yes, treat her according to the standards you said before, doc.”

He hugged me tightly and the warmth from his chest made me shiver all over.

Was the standard he mentioned before to replace my vocal cords with a dog's, so that I could never play the piano again or stand up?

I wanted to laugh, but I passed out anyway.

When I woke up again, it was already the day of the award ceremony.

My fingers and lower limbs were bandaged and my throat was wrapped in gauze.

My mother squeezed my palms tightly, her eyes blurred with tears as she asked, “Janette, are you awake? The doctor said you will get better soon, don't be afraid.”

The phone next to her was broadcasting the live video of the award ceremony.

In the picture, Eugenia, dressed in gorgeous clothes, was holding my father and brother's hands, with a sweet smile.

Seeing my depressed expression, my mother quickly turned off her phone and wiped away my tears as she asked, “Are you hungry? The doctor said you can only eat liquid food these days. Should I buy you some porridge?”

I nodded and after she left, I opened my phone to watch the live broadcast.

In the picture, facing various questions from reporters, my father and brother firmly defended Eugenia and protected her behind them.