Ever since my parents adopted Agatha when I was ten, their love had slowly tilted toward her.

She was sweet and adorable, the kind of girl who made people want to protect her. But her love life was a disaster. After a string of breakups, cheating boyfriends, and ugly fights, my parents only grew more protective of their youngest daughter.

Then I met Frederick. Out of sheer jealousy, Agatha tried to sabotage the relationship. She faked a suicide attempt by swallowing pills, though the dose wasn't enough to do real damage. My parents caught her in time.

She blamed me. Said I'd driven her to it. After that, they grew even colder toward me, convinced I was some vicious, jealous creature.

After the wedding, my parents barely kept in touch. All their energy went to worrying about how Agatha was doing.

Even so, I had no choice but to come back. Frederick had arranged everything.

Now, sitting together again, the dining table was loaded with dish after dish. It had been so long since I'd tasted my parents' cooking. The first bite loosened something tight in my chest.

Frederick sat beside me, piling food onto my plate without pause. My parents clustered around Agatha on the other side of the table, asking about her life.

"How long are you staying this time, sweetie? Why don't you spend a few nights here with us?"

Mom's face was all warmth as she heaped food onto Agatha's plate. Agatha said she just wanted to stay and take care of me.

I didn't respond. I just watched my parents. Not a single word about my miscarriage. All they cared about was rolling out the red carpet for their precious younger daughter.

Agatha noticed Frederick serving me and let out a teasing little laugh. "My brother-in-law is so good to you, sis. Nobody does that for me except Mom and Dad."

I scoffed. "What are you, five?"

Agatha's face twisted. She rolled her eyes, then caught my parents looking and instantly rearranged her expression into something wounded and pitiful.

Frederick's chopsticks hovered, then slowly lowered back to the table. "She didn't mean anything by it," he said quietly. "Do you have to go after her like that?"

Dad took one look at Agatha's hurt expression and turned on me. "Your sister just got home! Would it kill you to be civil?"

He pivoted right back to soothing Agatha, then disappeared into the kitchen and returned with bowls of mango tapioca pudding to cheer her up.

Agatha's eyes darted sideways. She picked up a bowl and carried it to me with both hands. "Dad worked so hard on this. You should have the first taste, sis."

I turned my face away. I couldn't stand watching her perform. The smell of mango alone was enough to make my stomach lurch. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw every person at that table staring at me.

"Your sister is being so thoughtful. Just drink it, or you'll hurt her feelings." My parents closed in, their voices gentle but suffocating.

I was severely allergic to mango. When I was ten, I'd accidentally eaten some and spent a week in the hospital. But they'd forgotten all of that. The only thing they remembered was that Agatha's favorite dessert was mango tapioca pudding.

I stared at them, wide-eyed. No words came.

I turned to Frederick.

He frowned, giving me a look that said just do it. Don't make this awkward. "It's a dessert. How hard can it be? Does the whole family have to bend to your every whim?"

I said nothing. When it was clear I wasn't going to give in, Agatha kept up her sweet act and pushed some of the other dishes toward me.

Then she flashed a sly little grin and locked eyes with Frederick. A subtle nod passed between them. Frederick could smell the mango, but he picked up his chopsticks and started loading food onto my plate anyway.

"If you can't manage the dessert, at least eat something. It's your family's way of showing love. We're all together for once. Just humor them."

The passive aggression was impossible to miss. Before I could react, Frederick lifted a piece of food to my mouth and pushed it in.

The moment it hit my throat, I gagged and spat it out. Mango fibers. My skin flushed red almost instantly, hives blooming across my arms. My breathing turned shallow and ragged.

Just as I'd expected. An allergic reaction.

Agatha stumbled backward and collapsed to the floor in theatrical shock. My parents rushed to shield her, pulling her away so she wouldn't have to see my swollen, blotchy face. Frederick hurried over to comfort her too.

I staggered to the bathroom and shoved my fingers down my throat, retching until there was nothing left. I found the medication myself. It took thirty minutes before my body slowly returned to something close to normal.

I leaned against the wall, gasping. Once my heartbeat steadied, I decided to stay in the bathroom a while longer. I had no desire to rejoin that farce of a dinner.

After another fifteen minutes, I'd finally calmed down. I reached for the door handle and froze.

My mother's voice, just outside.

"You two already made her lose the baby last time. You need to watch how far you push things. Today you nearly killed her!"

A pause, then: "You just found out you're pregnant yourself. Think about the child in your belly and show some restraint."

Rage detonated inside my chest. My eyes went wide. Agatha was pregnant too? My parents already knew? They knew about my allergy and they'd still let Agatha pull this stunt?

My heart plummeted. The pain in my chest felt like something being carved out of me with a dull blade. I wiped my tears, forced air into my burning lungs, and threw the door open.

"What the hell did you just say, Mom?" I was shaking. "Agatha made me lose my baby on purpose? And you helped her do it?"

I screamed it. In my fury, I hurled the miscarriage report straight at her face, demanding to know why not one of them had asked me a single question about losing my child.

"Who is your real daughter here?" I roared.

"I already apologized, sis." Agatha's voice was soft, her expression the picture of innocence. "If you're angry, take it out on me. Don't yell at Mom."

The sight of that rehearsed, doe-eyed look made bile rise in my throat. I snatched the bowl of tapioca pudding and upended it over her head, then smashed the bowl on the floor.

She yelped and hopped around as the warm liquid ran down her scalp, screaming that I was insane. My mother joined in, calling me a lunatic, shooting me a look of pure disgust before dragging Agatha to the bathroom to clean up.

Frederick grabbed my arm and tried to hold me still. "Calm down. She didn't know you were allergic. You're fine now, so just let it go."

I shoved him off and called him exactly what he was: a fraud. An actor playing a role.

The commotion brought my father storming in. One look at the scene and he seized my arm and wrenched me aside. There was nothing in his eyes but contempt. "How dare you talk to your mother like that!"

The force of it sent my lower back crashing into the corner of the table. The old injury in my spine flared white-hot. I couldn't straighten up. I crumpled to the floor, writhing, and the three of them just stood there looking down at me like I was something foul they'd found on the bottom of a shoe.

In that moment, everything finally clicked into place. To them, I was nothing but a tool. A blood bank. The family love I'd spent my whole life reaching for had never existed.

I gathered every ounce of strength I had left and dragged myself upright. The pain was blinding, but I walked out without looking back.

Outside, snow was falling in thick, heavy flakes. I pulled out my phone and called Joseph Lawrence.

"I need a favor."

I wiped my tears dry and made my way to a run-down apartment building. Aunt Harriet had been waiting for me for a long time.

I had nothing left now. Nothing except the aunt who loved me most in this world. She was the only one who had ever truly cared for me, the only one who had ever stood up for me, from the time I was small.

She steadied me with trembling hands as I stepped through the door. "Libby, your hands are freezing. I already made you a cup of your favorite hot cocoa. Drink it while it's warm."

Aunt Harriet was the only family member who had ever been good to me. A car accident years ago had left her paralyzed from the waist down, confined to a wheelchair ever since.

She warmed my icy hands in hers while I sipped the cocoa and poured out everything that had happened.

Her eyes glistened when she heard it all. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart. They don't cherish you, but I do."

I buried my face in her lap and let my whole body go slack. She was the only thing tying me to this place. Every good memory from my childhood had her in it.

She had never been able to stand the way my parents poured everything into Agatha, their precious biological daughter, and blamed me whenever there was a conflict for not yielding to my little sister.

All those countless times they left me behind and went out as a family of three, it was Aunt Harriet who came to pick me up and take me home. In my eyes, she was my real mother.

The thought made my nose sting. I couldn't hold back the quiet sobs. She thought I was cold, and she shifted to wrap her arms around me, pulling me close.

That night, for the first time in what felt like forever, I slept soundly. I didn't wake until the sun was high overhead, the smell of a home-cooked meal drifting into the room. Aunt Harriet had already prepared all my favorite dishes.

She was a wonderful cook, and I ate until I was full and content. She worried about my body after the miscarriage and wanted me to rest and build my strength back up.

"Libby, you stay here and rest. I'm going out to pick up some herbal supplements for you."

She insisted on going alone. All she wanted was for me to stay home and recover. I didn't feel right about it, but there was no arguing with her.

She had barely been gone a minute when I heard a scream.

"Help!"

I threw open the door and found her on the ground, crumpled beside her overturned wheelchair.

"Aunt Harriet!" I dropped to my knees and gathered her up, struggling to lift her. Then I saw the blood covering my hands. A scream tore out of me, and I called an ambulance immediately.

In the back of the ambulance, my breathing came in ragged gasps. She kept drifting in and out of consciousness, mumbling my name. My vision blurred with tears as I pressed close to her, gripping her hand so tight my knuckles went white, terrified that something terrible was happening.

I paced outside the examination room, grabbing every doctor who walked in or out, begging for an update.

The wait dragged on, unbearable. I needed air and turned toward the window, only to come face to face with Frederick and Agatha.

Frederick was at her side, one hand supporting her arm, the other holding a prenatal report.

"Everything looks great. All the markers are normal." He nodded with satisfaction. "This baby is going to be perfectly healthy."

Agatha's face glowed with smugness. "Of course it will. I'm not like my sister, that useless waste who couldn't even keep a baby alive."

I didn't want to see them. I turned to leave, but walked right into them.

"Oh, sis! What are you doing here?" Agatha's voice dripped with mock concern. "Another allergic reaction? Or did you lose another baby?"

Her eyes landed on the worn knitted cap in my hands, and she snatched it away.

"God, how tacky."

"That's my aunt's hat. Give it back." My glare could have cut glass. I ripped it out of her grip.

Aunt Harriet had never had any use for either of them. She only tolerated them for my sake. After her accident left her in a wheelchair, neither of them had visited her once.

Agatha and Frederick exchanged a glance, taking a long moment before they even realized who I was talking about.

"Oh, that crippled old woman?" A cruel smile played across Agatha's lips. "She's still alive?"

"Your aunt was never exactly pleasant, Libby." Frederick reached for my arm. "You should stop wasting your time on that dead weight and come home."

I wrenched free of his hand, spun around, and slapped Agatha across the face. Hard. Again. And again.

Everyone froze. The woman who had always been gentle and composed was now striking with everything she had.

"If you ever insult my aunt again, next time it won't be your face I go after."

Agatha shrieked that I'd lost my mind and lunged at me. I sidestepped at the last second and she flew past, slamming face-first into the wall.

"You bitch!" Agatha howled, blood streaming from her nose as she clutched her face.

Frederick looked between the two of us, both burning with fury, and realized nothing he said would make a difference. He grabbed Agatha and hauled her away.

I looked down at my stinging palm, and for the first time in a long time, something inside me unclenched.

The test results finally came back. The doctor's hesitant expression made my blood run cold.

They'd found a tumor. Aunt Harriet needed surgery immediately. The success rate was high, but the cost was staggering.

She must have known for a while. She hadn't wanted to burden me, and that was why she'd let it go this long.

I agreed without a second thought. But when I tried to swipe my card, the system flagged it for verification. I had no choice but to call Frederick and explain the situation.

"Don't waste the money. You just hurt Agatha. Getting her treated is more important right now." He hung up.

I was frantic. I scrolled through every contact on my phone, and in the end, I called Joseph.

He didn't ask questions. He wired several million dollars and told me to spend whatever I needed. I thanked him over and over, then worked with the doctor to schedule the surgery right away.

Meanwhile, Agatha was staring at her reddened cheek in a mirror, grinding her teeth with rage. Frederick rushed to soothe her. "It's all Libby's fault. Don't be upset, Agatha. Here, take this new black card. Buy whatever you want."

Agatha took the card and finally stopped crying, though the fury still simmered beneath the surface.

"She loves that old woman so much she'd beg and borrow just to pay for surgery," Frederick mused, a cruel smile playing at his lips. "Imagine how devastated she'd be if the surgery failed."

He called the hospital shortly after and made all the arrangements.

The next morning, Aunt Harriet was wheeled into the operating room. I waited outside, watching the clock. A procedure that should have taken two hours stretched to four.

When the medical staff finally emerged, they brought only one piece of news: Aunt Harriet was dead.

My entire body shook. "The success rate was practically guaranteed. How could it fail? Why did it take so long?"

The attending physician stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. It was a young nurse beside him who spoke up. "Mr. Simmons said it was just a minor procedure, so only an intern was assigned. The chief surgeon was called away hours ago to attend to Miss Dickerson..."

The nurse and the intern stood there with sweat beading on their foreheads. It had been their very first surgery. The outcome was inevitable.

The blow shattered something inside me. My body went ice-cold. Nausea surged up my throat until I was doubled over, dry-heaving. It felt like plummeting into a bottomless abyss. The two of them had done something so unconscionably evil, and Aunt Harriet had paid the price.

I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms, then slammed them against the wall again and again until my strength gave out and I collapsed to the floor. Aunt Harriet's knitted cap was clutched in my hands, soaked through with tears.

The intern rushed to help me up. "Before the anesthesia, the patient kept calling your name. She wanted you to take care of yourself and get some rest."

I wiped my eyes and forced myself to hold it together. The surgical light went dark. They wheeled her out. I threw my arms around Aunt Harriet's cold body and held on. The one person in this world who had truly loved me was gone forever.

I handled the funeral alone. Sorting through her belongings, the cremation, arranging the headstone. I hadn't closed my eyes in over twenty-four hours.

Hardly anyone came. I called my parents to let them know, but they hung up before I could finish.

"She only ever cared about you, didn't she? Then you can mourn her by yourself."

They couldn't have cared less. All they told me was to hurry up and come home for a family gathering to celebrate Agatha's pregnancy.

I hated them down to the marrow of my bones. I swore silently over that grave that I would get justice for Aunt Harriet and make every last one of them pay. The family gathering would be the perfect opportunity to drag their filth into the light and turn them against each other.

I nodded obediently, playing the dutiful daughter. But the plan was already taking shape in my mind.

I stood before Aunt Harriet's headstone for a long time, saying nothing. A fine rain began to fall. Frederick appeared beside me, holding an umbrella over my head. "Libby, my condolences. Given your aunt's condition, maybe passing on was a mercy."

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "For me, leaving would be a mercy too."

Frederick didn't understand what I meant. He moved to lay flowers at the grave, but Agatha's voice cut in from a distance.

"Are we done yet? When are we leaving?" Impatience was written all over her face. She'd shown up to the funeral, but inside, she was happier than anyone.

"Go ahead without me. I want to be alone." I pushed Frederick away and let the rain soak through me.

After the funeral, I called Joseph to thank him, and to ask for one more favor.

"Of course. You never have to be polite with me."

"I've already made the introductions here. Whenever you're ready, there's a seat on the board waiting for you."

He sent over a series of documents. I looked them over and nodded, satisfied.