The day I was brought back to the DuPont Family, my heart brimmed with joy. I was so excited, I prepared gifts for everyone. But my gestures of goodwill were met with impatience. My parents barely acknowledged me before whisking me off to the hospital. It turned out that their cherished adopted daughter, Erica, was gravely ill and they needed me to donate a kidney to save her.

Later, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Reluctantly, I broke the devastating news to them, thinking it might earn me even a sliver of care.

But I was met, with her sharp accusation. “Why is she pretending to be sick? Could she be jealous because today is my wedding day with Lucient?” Their faces darkened at her words. Without a second thought, they shoved me out of the car on the highway.

To them, my suffering was an act---a drama to ruin their lives.

——

I trudged through thirty kilometers of snow, my legs barely cooperating. It took me a full day and night to reach home, but when I got there, the gate code had been changed and no one had bothered to tell me.

Inside, I could hear Erica’s sugary, whining voice floating through the air.

“Everett’s not letting me win! Mom, Dad, get him. He has to carry me on his back and say sorry!”

“Sweetheart, your brother’s just being sentimental,” Mom cooed, tweaking her cheek. “He’s just sad that you will leave us. You’re getting married to Lucient after the New Year, remember?”

Erica pouted, her lips curving into that perfect, spoiled smile she always wore.

I shuffled closer to the glass, standing on tiptoe to get a better look. Mom’s face was soft, glowing with an affection she’d never shown me. I copied Erica’s pout, pressing my cold fingers against my cheeks, trying to mimic that same sweetness. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t match her effortless charm.

“Even though you’re married, don’t forget to visit us, okay?” Dad’s voice had that fatherly warmth I’d longed for all my life. “You’ve been a handful since you were little, but we still love you. You’re our precious daughter. The one and only. Lucient wouldn’t dare mistreat you.”

Those words hit me like a punch to the chest.

My vision blurred as the tears spilled over. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard Dad sound like a real father, doting and kind—but only ever to Erica. Never to me.

Everett, the always stern and domineering Big Brother, who was known to be cold and unforgiving, rushed to comfort her, “Stop saying that nonsense, Erica!” he snapped. “You are the precious daughter of this family. If Evangeline ever try to pick on you, I'll break her legs!”

His words cut deep, even more than the cold seeping into my bones. I stared at the concern in his eyes, the same eyes that had glared with hatred when he shoved me from the car.

Tears spilled down my cheeks despite myself. “Then you should’ve pushed harder, Everett. That way, you’d have broken both my legs and not just one.”

Everett’s head snapped up, his sharp eyes zeroing in on the window where I stood.

Panic gripped me. I quickly brushed the snow off my coat and forced a smile, trying to act like everything was fine.

For a second, he hesitated, his face softening into something I hadn’t seen in years—kindness. He smiled back at me, warm and radiant.

The icy weight in my chest lifted and I waved frantically, shouting, “Happy New Year!”

Before I could catch my breath, fireworks exploded in the sky, their brilliant colors reflecting in the glass. Everett’s smile lingered, but not for me.

He turned back to mom, dad and Erica, wrapping an arm around them as they posed for a family photo.

It hit me then. They hadn’t been looking at me. They were waiting for the fireworks to capture this happy moment of family joy.

Wiping the tears from my face with trembling fingers, I hid in the corner only show a bit in the lens. My lips curled into a bittersweet smile as I whispered, “Three, two, one… Happy New Year, Mom, Dad and Everett.”

Thank you for capturing me at my best.

The cold wind lashed against my wounds, each gust like a blade cutting into my skin. I pulled my frostbitten hands into my sleeves and crouched in the corner by the wall, wrapping my arms around myself, too afraid to keep watching the scene unfold.

As my consciousness began to fade, the sharp cracks of fireworks coming from the yard startled me awake.

“When did you get back? Why are you crouching here instead of coming inside? Oh, don’t say you are trying to fake another sickness.”

Everett stood over me, his face twisted with disdain. The moment he saw me stir, he took a quick step back, as if even standing too close might somehow tainted him.

I shook my head slightly, trying to clear the dizziness that lingered.

When I didn't answer, Everett sneered, assuming I was scheming. “Pathetic faker. First, you say your stomach hurts. Now what?  Your head hurt? If you’re going to die, do it somewhere else. I don’t want to have to deal with your stinking corpse. Gosh, you’re such a jinx!”

His words hit me like a dagger to the chest.

I looked at his eyebrows and eyes, which looked exactly like mine and let out a bitter mumble, “I'm not faking, Everett. Can you trust me for once?”

My voice was quiet, laced with cautious hope and desperate pleading.

For a moment, maybe moved by my expression, Everett hesitated. He even took a step closer. But before he could speak, Erica's voice cut through the air behind him.

“Everett, the fireworks are almost out. Mom and Dad want you to get more. Oh, Evangeline, when did you get back? Did you have fun? Staying out all night with your friends and losing track of time, huh?”

Everett froze mid-step and quickly retreated a few steps. His expression shifted into one of contempt. “Nice performance. You almost had me. Pathetic!”

With a switch in his demeanor, Everett turned to Erica and reply, “Wait here. I’ll go get more fireworks in the storage.”

Pain flared up again in my chest, making me wince. Then I heard Erica letting out a scoff.

“Your family doesn't care about you. Even your fiancé left you. No one care about you. So why don’t you just die? Do you think Mom, Dad and Everett will still care when they find out you have cancer?”

I forced myself to focus through the pain when I heard footsteps crunching in the snow. I looked up and Erica was already standing in front of me. Her sweet and friendly expression was gone, replaced by pure hatred.

“Mom told me about your stomach cancer, but you know what? She thinks that you're faking it,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain.

My fingers went numb as a mix of sadness and anger shattered whatever control I had left.

Before I knew what was happening, Erica collapsed to the ground. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her cheek, wailing, “Mom! Dad!”

“I just wanted to talk to Evangeline and tell her to stop pretending to be sick and making you sad. But she pushed me! Why did you do that?”

A sharp slap landed on my cheek, snapping my head to the side. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

“How dare you hit Erica? Who do you think you are, harming my precious daughter?” my mother shouted, her eyes blazing with rage and disgust.

“What kind of behavior is this? This is not acceptable in this house!” my father exclaimed, pulling Erica into his arms. His gaze was filled with disbelief and disappointment as he held her tightly.

I hung my head, stunned into silence. I couldn’t find the words to defend myself. Before I could say anything, Everett grabbed me by the arm and dragged me down the hall, throwing me to the floor. The pain in my heart was worse than the physical ache in my body.

I wanted to explain it, to defend myself, but it felt like something was lodged in my throat, keeping me from speaking. Meanwhile, my mother turned to Erica, gently holding her hand and caressing her cheek. As she comforted her adopted daughter, her anger and hatred for me flowed freely.

“I regret ever bringing you back,” she said, her voice full of bitter rage. “I should have known that someone raised in a bad place would grow up to be the same. Look at you—attacking your own sister!”

“And I’m sure you're lying about having cancer just to get Erica out of this house. Isn't' that right? If she hadn’t warned us to double-check your medical report, we would’ve all fallen for your lies!”

My dad and Everett stood on either side of Erica, both concerned. My father was rubbing ointment on her hand, while Everett reassured and comforted her.

They continued their little performance, oblivious to my existence, parading around as the perfect family of four. And there I stood, like a prisoner awaiting the gallows, my voice stuck in my throat, unable to defend myself.

“What are you staring at? Do you want to harm Erica again?” Everett finally spared a moment to come to his precious sister's rescue, his tone dripping with righteous indignation. “She begged us to wait for you so we could celebrate New Year’s Eve together. But instead of coming home, you were out messing around with God-knows-who. And the moment you return, you pick a fight with Erica! How could I have a sister with such a venomous heart?”

Everett finally found time in his perfect little life to defend his precious sister. My parents stood behind him, cheering him on like they were rooting for some kind of prize fighter. They had completely forgotten that Erica was the daughter of their sworn enemy—the same person who tried to ruin the DuPont Family name and swapped us out when we were babies.

“What now? You lost your voice? Felling pain from your stomach cancer?” Everett taunted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Do you really think that I’m gonna buy it? We all know that you are an outstanding faker. Since you came back, all you’ve done is harming Erica. Now, get up and apologize to her!”

Before I could say a word, Erica was already sobbing, her eyes red as she put on her best act.

“Everett, please, don’t be mad at her. I take her place. She has a right to hate me.”

They looked at me as if I were some kind of stray dog, not their flesh and blood, not definitely not a sister. They had forgotten the truth—how it was only after Erica’s accident and her need for a kidney transplant that I was found and brought back.

Years of neglect and malnutrition had stunted my growth; I was a full head shorter than Erica and my thighs were thinner than her arms. I was forced to donate a kidney and more than half of my blood, to save her. How could someone as frail and broken as I possibly bully their beloved daughter?

“I'm sorry, Evangeline. I didn't mean for things to turn out this way,” Erica continued, her voice full of pity. “This is my fault. If I hadn't let them check your medical report, none of this would have happened.”

She cried, playing the victim, but I saw the smug glint in her eyes. She knew her secret would remain safe. Just like how she had stolen my meal card at school.

I turned to my mother, praying she would intervene, that she would finally stand up for me. But instead, she comforted Erica, asking me repeatedly if I’d lost the card myself.

With a weary sigh, my mother finally said, “Maybe it’s best if we just send her back. Pretend I never had her as a daughter.”

I met their cold, condemning eyes, my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach. In a daze, I pulled out the crumpled medical report from my pocket, nearly destroyed from being run over by a car.

“Mom, I need to tell you… This is my medical report,” my voice cracked as I handed it to her.

The paper was battered and stained with blood—my blood, from when I was pushed out of the car and slammed against the rocks. I trembled as I held out the last piece of proof, hoping beyond hope that this would finally make them see the truth.

Mom hesitated as she took the report. A flicker of doubt crossed her face.

Erica’s expression faltered. Panic flashed in her eyes, but she quickly masked it with worry. “Mom, watch it. There’s been news about the new spreading virus. That paper’s dirty, are you sure you want to touch it? I just don’t want you to get sick.”

Mom’s face darkened, but she still unfolded the report. Her brows furrowed deeper with every line she read. Dad and Everett leaned in to see, their curiosity overtaking their judgment.

Mom’s eyes reddened as she reached the end. For a moment, the air seemed to still.

My dry, aching eyes stung with the return of tears.

Mom had always said she loved obedient, well-behaved daughters. I had been obedient. I had been well-behaved. If they could give Erica, an adopted daughter, their unconditional love, then surely they could find it in their hearts to love me, their biological child.

They would take me to the best doctors to treat my illness. They would buy me warm clothes, cook me delicious meals and decorate a cozy room for me.

We would spend one last New Year’s together as a family. They would wish me a Happy New Year and they would say, “Happy Birthday,” to me.

I would fight this cancer with everything I had left, trying to hang on for just a little longer.