I frantically wiped the blood with my other hand, terrified of another beating if they noticed.

Neville's confident reciting echoed from upstairs.

Colette bustled in the kitchen, making a late-night snack for her precious son. Otis watched TV on the couch, occasionally glancing at me with disappointment.

I knelt in the center of the house like an invisible person.

Blood kept flowing, blurring my vision. Neville's smug grin swam before my eyes, mocking my misery.

I was David's shadow, a clumsy copy. No matter how hard I tried, I could never be the light.

...

At school, my deskmate shoved a milk carton into my hand.

"You didn't eat breakfast again?" Noah Carter asked, frowning.

I pushed it back. "My mom made me chicken soup. I just don't like milk."

The lie came out of my mouth easily.

Noah stared at me for a few seconds but said nothing.

I gripped the milk, my knuckles turning white.

The poster of the citywide math competition hung in the school hallway. The first place would be awarded five grand, a certificate, and a trophy.

I remembered my parents' promise. If I did well, they'd buy me a used phone.

I threw myself into practice, sleeping less than four hours a day.

"You're gonna burn out like this," Noah said worriedly.

I ignored him, determined to prove I wasn't useless. I wanted that gold medal to shatter my "flawed substitute" label and show them my worth.

On competition day, I won first place.

Taking the shiny trophy, the heavy certificate, and the cash, I happily ran home.

This time would be different. They'd be proud.

I could buy a phone and have enough left for medicine.

I burst through the door and found Neville on the couch, playing video games.

"Dad, Mom, I won the math competition!" I shouted excitedly.

Colette poked her head out of the kitchen, took the trophy, and set it on the shoe rack.

"Alright, don't make a scene. You'll disturb Neville," she hushed.

"How much is the prize?" Otis asked without looking up.

"5 grand."

"Give it to your mom for household expenses."

I froze. "What about the phone?"

Colette paused, irritation creeping into her voice. "I'm still using my old phone, you know."

Otis frowned. "What does a kid need a phone for?"

"But you promised," I reasoned.

"Promised what?" he snapped. "I don't remember that. We're broke, and you're whining about a phone? Can't you give us a break?"

"We give you food and clothes. What more do you want?" Colette handed me a worn pencil case. "This was David's. Use it carefully."

I took it, feeling the scratches under my fingers. David's name was faintly penciled on it, nearly faded.

"Look at this, Lenora," Neville said, waving his new phone, its screen bigger than my face.

"Got this for improving my test scores. Cool, right?" His voice dripped with pride, his eyes mocking.

I stared at him, the phone, and then my parents' indifferent faces.

Neville smirked. "You won something too? Where's your prize?"

My chest tightened. I could barely breathe.

"I'm stepping out," I said, turning to leave.

"Get back here!" Otis yelled.

I rushed out of the house but ran into Noah, who appeared out of nowhere.

"Lenora, what's wrong?" Noah asked.

"Leave me alone," I said, wiping my tears and walking faster.

He followed. "Are you crying?"

I stopped and turned. "Stay away from me!"

"What?"

"We're not from the same world. Don't bother me anymore."

I pushed past him and ran to the dumpster downstairs.

The gold medal in my backpack dug into my back. I pulled it out, holding it up to the streetlight.

My name was engraved on it.

I raised it over the dumpster, but my hand froze.

I couldn't do it.

I clutched the medal that was still shining, but it didn't blind me anymore.

What blinded me was my stupidity in believing their lies. I thought effort would matter. I thought I could earn their approval.

My phone buzzed with a text from Noah.

[Lenora, we're friends forever.]

I deleted his number, knowing I didn't deserve his warmth and kindness.

I was just David's substitute, Neville's foil, and the Gordon family's shame.

...

The cancer pain gnawed like ants burrowing through my bones.

I needed painkillers but had no money.

Every cent at home was in my parents' hands. Even my high school savings were held for "safekeeping".

Their excuse? "Girls shouldn't spend recklessly."

I stared at the 52 cents in my bag, earned from collecting bottles that day.

At dinner, I steeled myself. "Dad, I need money for tutoring fees."

Otis didn't look up. "How much?"

"$100," I lied. Three months of painkillers cost just over $50.

His fork froze. "$100?"

He finally looked at me, but his eyes were cold. "You think money grows on trees?"

Neville snorted. "Lenora, are you nuts? You know how tight things are."

My grip tightened on the knife. "I just thought..."

"Thought what?" Otis slammed his fist down on the table. "You wanna drag Neville down? Ruin this family?"

That night, the pain kept me awake.

My parents' snores came through the wall. They slept soundly.

I knew where they kept the money.

The bottom drawer of their nightstand had a small metal box with the family's cash.

Two bills were all I needed.

The pain was unbearable. I needed those pills.

A shout shattered the quiet night. "Thief!"

I nearly fell, spinning to see Neville in the doorway, grinning triumphantly.

"What are you doing, Lenora?" he said loudly.

Noises came from the bed as our parents stirred.

"What's going on?" Colette murmured sleepily.

"I caught Lenora stealing money!" Neville pointed at me, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You're sneaking cash to get an abortion, aren't you?"

His words exploded like a bomb.

Otis glared at me, like I was filth.

"No, I didn't." I shook my head frantically.

"Still lying?" Neville taunted. "Caught red-handed!"

"What are you stealing money for?" Otis loomed, his shadow terrifying in the dark. "Speak!"

He grabbed a baseball bat from the corner.

That bat was David's.

For years, Otis treasured it like a relic. Now he'd use it on me.

"Today, I'll teach you a lesson on behalf of David!"

"Dad, I didn't," I pleaded.

Before I could finish, the bat slammed into my stomach.

Pain erupted. I collapsed, vomiting blood onto the floor, bright under the light.

"This is what you get for stealing!" Otis swung again.

"Lenora!" Colette gasped but didn't stop him.

Neville stood in the doorway, smirking like he was watching a show.

I lay on the floor, blood pouring from my mouth. In my fading vision, Neville's grin mocked me.

...

The storage room door slammed shut. The lock clicked.

Darkness swallowed me.

"When you figure out what you did, you can come out," Otis said, his voice dripping with disgust.

I leaned against the cold wall. My stomach felt like it was being eaten alive.

Outside, laughter rang.

"Neville, I made your favorite beef stew," Colette said.

"Neville, 730 on the practice test? Second in the city! Amazing!" Otis cheered.

"Next time, I'll get first," Neville promised.

"Good! I know you will," Otis laughed.

Their happy chatter stabbed through the door, each word piercing my heart.

I curled up in the corner, my tears falling freely.

There was just no place for me in this house.

Footsteps echoed outside. Neville hissed through the door, gleeful. "Lenora, just die already. You're a stain on my life. My classmates now all know I've got a thieving sister. So embarrassing. Why don't you just die? It'd free us all."

Each word cut deeper, tearing down my last defenses.

The stomach pain raged, but it felt trivial compared to the ache in my heart.

I remembered finding an old bottle of weed killer in this room as a kid.

It was a green bottle, covered in dust.

I'd wondered why it was here. Now I knew that it was waiting for this moment.

I fumbled in the dark, my fingers finding the bottle in the same corner.

Outside, the laughter grew louder.

"Neville, I'll get you new clothes tomorrow," Colette said.

"Anything you want, I'll get it for you," Otis echoed.

"Thanks, Mom and Dad. I love you guys," Neville said excitedly.

"We love you, too," they laughed.

That word never belonged to me.

I picked up the bottle, staring at it in the dark.

I couldn't see it clearly, but I knew it was there, like I knew my fate.

With my last bit of strength, I dipped my finger in the blood I'd coughed up and wrote on the floor.

[David, I'm coming to find you.]

The blood dried, the words crooked and uneven. It was the most careful thing I'd ever written, and my last.

I leaned against the cold wall and twisted off the cap. The stench stung my nose.

I closed my eyes and finished it off.