When I came out of the operating room, my legs were still trembling. As I passed the VIP room, the scene inside made me stop in my tracks.

"Claire, this is your favorite chicken soup from when you were little." Mom took the soup out of the microwave, carefully tested the temperature, and handed it to Dad.

He took it, blew on it gently several times, and only passed it to Byron after confirming it wasn't too hot. And Byron, the man who once said he only loved me, carefully scooped up a spoonful and brought it to Claire's lips.

"Drink slowly. Don't burn yourself." His voice was so tender it was painful to hear.

Claire shyly opened her mouth, but her gaze drifted over his shoulder and met mine at the door. A flash of triumph crossed her eyes before she quickly replaced it with a worried expression.

"How's Sharon? This is all my fault. I was driving too fast, trying to deliver that scarf she loves so much..."

I froze at the doorway. Scarf? I never liked scarves. Growing up, I never owned a single decent scarf. Claire, on the other hand, had a whole closet full of expensive ones.

Mom frowned in disgust. "She's always causing trouble, and now you're the one who got hurt."

Those words burned my heart as memories came flooding back.

When I was eight years old, Claire lost her footing and fell off a cliff. I desperately grabbed her hand, and a sharp rock sliced a long gash across my left cheek.

When my parents arrived, they only comforted Claire as she cried. None of them noticed my face bleeding profusely.

"What kind of sister are you?" Dad had demanded harshly.

When I was 16, Claire got into trouble with some thugs from outside school. I went to rescue her and nearly got beaten to death.

When we got home, my parents didn't offer a single word of concern. Instead, they blamed me for not watching over Claire properly.

In this family, I was always wrong. Over time, even I came to believe it. I was a criminal who didn't deserve love.

Until I met Byron.

When I had cramps, he stayed up all night rubbing my stomach, bringing me heating pads and tea. After I got pregnant, he patiently dried my hair and trimmed my toenails.

Those tender moments made me think someone finally loved me. But as it turned out, he never loved me at all. He loved my sister.

Tears blurred my vision. I dragged my weak body home, one step at a time. I had just booked a ticket on the earliest flight the day after tomorrow when I heard the door lock click.

Byron walked in, carrying Claire. My parents followed behind them. When they saw me, everyone froze.

"Why did you discharge yourself?" Byron frowned. "You didn't even tell me."

Claire nestled in his arms, secretly flashing a triumphant smile.

"Claire was worried about you. She wants to stay here for a while to keep you company," Mom explained. "We thought it was a good idea, so we brought her over."

I turned without a word and walked toward the bedroom. Behind me, I heard Dad's rebuke. "She can't even welcome her own sister. She's just so cold-blooded."

Byron called after me anxiously, but Claire suddenly cried out that she felt dizzy in his arms. My parents immediately crowded around her, fussing over her.

Byron shouted urgently, "Quick, give her the medicine!"

The entire living room descended into chaos. No one noticed my face, which was as pale as paper, or my body hunched over in pain.

I once thought I had finally found happiness, that I had a man who only had eyes for me and loved me wholeheartedly. But it was all just wishful thinking.

Late into the night, Byron finally returned to the bedroom. His hand gently touched my abdomen. "I'm sorry, baby. Daddy will take good care of you and Mommy from now on."

I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. His palm was still warm, but all I felt was bone-chilling cold.

That place was already empty, but that was something he'd never find out.

The next morning, the bedroom door swung open, and Byron pulled me into the dining room. "Claire cooked for you herself. She wants to make amends."

The table was covered with dishes. Claire limped out of the kitchen carrying the last plate, her smile sweet. "Sharon, I made all your favorites."

"She knows you gave her blood to save her. She wanted to cook you a nice meal to make up for it." Byron's voice was gentle.

Mom and Dad were already seated, showering Claire with praise. "Your leg hasn't even healed, and you're already thinking of others. How thoughtful."

I glanced at the table. There were shrimp, crab, and scallops. Every single dish contained seafood that would give me a severe allergic reaction.

A memory tore open like a wound. When I was ten years old, Claire secretly chopped up shrimp meat and mixed it into ravioli filling. After I ate it, my whole body swelled up, and I could barely breathe, nearly going into shock.

Claire had laughed hysterically outside the emergency room. "Look at how ugly she looks! She's even uglier than before!"

In the present, I turned my head away. "I can't eat this. I'm allergic to seafood."

Claire's mouth immediately trembled with hurt when she heard that.

Mom's and Dad's faces darkened. "Claire worked all morning on this. Just have a few bites. It'll be fine."

Byron frowned. "Claire meant well. Just eat first. I'll take you to the hospital afterward."

My chest felt like it had been hit with a blunt object. I shoved my chair back and ran out. I stood alone by the lake, letting the wind blow against me. Soon, light footsteps approached from behind.

"You really don't appreciate anything, do you?" Claire's voice dropped all pretense. Her limp was gone, too.

I asked calmly, "What exactly do you want?"

She laughed lightly. "I'm Byron's first love. Back then, I just thought he was some poor nobody. I didn't know he'd become so powerful. Now, I'm taking him back. Someone like you doesn't deserve anyone's love, especially not his."

Each word was like a poisoned needle piercing my heart. I knew I was ugly, but hearing my own sister say it still made me shake with pain.

"You know what?" She leaned close to my ear. "You're not just ugly. You're stupid, too."

I froze, confused by what she meant.

"I'm so beautiful and well-behaved, so of course I should be the only princess. Seeing you with a face just like mine makes me sick every time.

"When we were eight, I fell off that cliff on purpose. I knew you'd come save me. I calculated exactly where to position myself so you'd get that scar.

"Oliver's death had nothing to do with you, either. I threw his toy into the pond and tricked him into going after it.

"Once Mom and Dad thought you killed Oliver, they stopped loving you. I wanted the whole world to hate and abandon you!"

I could barely believe my own ears. The sister I desperately saved was the one who made me get this scar, the one who caused our brother to drown!

Some people were just born evil, doing such terrible things even at such a young age.

My whole body went cold. "After doing so many terrible things, aren't you afraid of karma? Aren't you afraid I'll tell everyone?"

"Who would believe you?" Her laughter was cruel. "They only believe what they want to believe."

With that, she shoved me hard into the lake. The icy water instantly closed over my head. I couldn't swim. I instinctively opened my mouth to call for help, but only swallowed mouthfuls of water.

I thrashed desperately, but felt myself sinking deeper and deeper. As my consciousness faded, I saw Claire on the shore, laughing wildly.

I barely managed to grab onto a rock at the edge and pull myself out, only to see Byron's figure appear in the distance. The moment Claire spotted him, she jumped into the lake and screamed for help.

Byron didn't hesitate. He dove in and quickly pulled her to shore.

Claire clung to him, crying. "I was worried about Sharon, so I followed her here. I don't understand why she pushed me..."

I tried desperately to explain, but Byron only frowned and glanced at me once. His eyes were cold and disappointed. He scooped Claire up and walked away without looking back.

I lay alone on the shore, soaking wet, shivering from the cold. Between Claire and me, he chose Claire, even though I was his wife. To his knowledge, I was still pregnant, yet he didn't choose me.

This time, my heart truly died.

I returned to my room, soaking wet. I had just changed into dry clothes when Mom and Dad stormed in furiously.

Mom grabbed a fistful of my hair. "Claire went out of her way to cook for you, but you had the nerve to throw a tantrum and even push her into the lake? Will you only be satisfied when she's dead?"

My scalp burned with pain. My eyes reddened as I grabbed her hand and defended myself for the first time. "I've never hurt anyone. Just now, Claire was the one who pushed me into the lake."

After I spoke, I looked at Mom expectantly. I thought they would be shocked, that they would suddenly realize the truth and regret everything.

Instead, Mom shook her head forcefully, her eyes filled with disappointment. "Claire is so kind and thoughtful. Why would she do something like that? You're lying."

Tears finally fell. How foolish I was to have any expectations of my parents. After all these years, their favoritism had already said everything.

Mom grabbed me and dragged me to the hospital to apologize to Claire. I struggled free with all my strength.

At that, Dad slapped me hard across the face. "You murderer! You pest! You've been nothing but trouble since the day you were born! You killed Oliver, and now you're trying to kill your sister! You never learn!"

Years of pain turned to rage in that moment. I screamed and smashed everything breakable in the room, shouting at the top of my lungs, "Do you only believe what you want to believe? I'm your daughter, too! All these years, have you ever believed me even once?"

Mom fell silent, lost in thought. However, Dad flew into a fury and shoved me hard. I slammed into the corner of the wall, and blood seeped from my forehead as I curled up in pain.

Mom quickly held Dad back. There was a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. "Sharon is still pregnant..."

"If it weren't for Byron's child in her belly, I would've beaten this pest to death long ago!"

So, that was it. They never cared about me, only the child I was bearing. Too bad they never imagined I had already gotten rid of it.

My phone suddenly buzzed with a message. I glanced down and smiled bitterly. Mom and Dad thought it was a concerned message from Byron, and they exchanged guilty glances.

Unfortunately, they were only half right. It was indeed from Byron, but the message read, "Something came up at work. I won't be home tonight."

Right after that, Claire sent me a video. Byron was in the hospital, head bowed as he peeled an orange for her, his gaze tender.

The caption read, "I'm the one Byron loves. An ugly duckling is forever an ugly duckling. You'll never become a swan."

I wiped away my tears, pushed my parents out of the room, and locked the door. After I cried until I had no tears left, I piled up all the gifts Byron had given me and set them on fire.

In the firelight, memories flashed like a slideshow. The starlight in his eyes when he first proposed. The gentle way he dried my hair. The smile on his face when he pressed his ear against my belly to listen for the baby's movements.

It turned out that all these memories I treasured were just illusions of love. Finally, I took off my wedding ring and threw it into the fire without hesitation. If his love was just a projection of someone else, I didn't want it.

I packed the simplest luggage. The next morning, I left the house as soon as dawn broke. Before leaving, I anonymously sent two videos to Byron and my parents.

One video was of Andrea, admitting the car accident was a setup. The other was of Claire pushing me into the lake and confessing to killing Oliver and causing my scar.

Then, I turned off my phone and threw it into the lake. Two hours later, a plane bound for Franco soared into the sky.

From 30 thousand feet up, I watched the city grow smaller and smaller in the distance. I gently touched my now flat belly and felt nothing but calm.

From now on, I would only live for myself.