“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.

When I heard them asking her about plagiarism, they just glossed over the issue and issued a statement on my behalf to quit the circle.

Eugenia stood on the stage and sang the song I composed, "The Moon Under the Sea,” as if she was really the mermaid singing under the sea, so beautiful.

My heart ached when the judges awarded her the award. It was clearly my work, but none of them believed me.

In her acceptance speech, Eugenia actually mentioned that my father helped her polish the lyrics of the song and my father acknowledged it with a smile.

He personally presented the award to Eugenia and praised her as his pride.

I bit my lips tightly and tears fell.

The lyrics of this song, which clearly talked about my time in the orphanage, became their achievement.

Even my brother told the media seriously, “Ten years ago, our family went out to sea for fun. I went surfing but encountered a tsunami. 

“In the critical moment of life and death, it was Eugenia who jumped down and saved me at all costs. She gave me her life jacket to wear and was almost swept away by the waves.

“Eugenia gave me a second life. As a brother, I will protect her at all costs. Let her be the happiest mermaid princess and sing freely.”

I laughed until tears came out. Eugenia could not swim at all, how could she save you?

I gave you my life jacket and I was swept by the huge amount of water and hit the reef. My back was covered in blood and I almost died. And it turned out to be Eugenia's credit?

I wiped away my tears and tremblingly sent a message to a number I had not seen for a long time. [Does your promise from that year still count?]

The other party replied immediately, [Of course. You are a pearl that shouldn’t be tainted by their cruelty. I’ve seen the recent news—they framed and hurt you, all for the sake of that adopted daughter. There’s no reason for you to stay with them. Just tell me, what do you want me to do?]

I clumsily tapped out a few lines with my palm and the door of the ward was pushed open.

When my mother saw the words on my screen, her face changed drastically.

“Janette, who are you messaging? Where are you going in three days?”

I closed the interface, took out the calendar and showed it to her.

There were words marked inside, [My birthday.]

My mother breathed a sigh of relief and touched my head with loving eyes.

“Sure, sure, wherever you want to go, we will go with you,” she said.

I typed in an address, which turned out to be the beach where my family went on vacation ten years ago.

Since everything started there, let's end it there.

Three days later, my whole family chartered a cruise ship at the seaside to celebrate my and Eugenia’s birthdays together.

In the ten years since I was found, Eugenia was more like the only protagonist in every birthday party.

Eugenia was spoiled by my parents and loved by my brother since she was a child. She knew how to act coquettishly and show weakness to everyone to win favor.

But I grew up in an orphanage and my personality was reserved and not likable. 

This time was no exception.