I froze when Manuel stepped onto the stage and pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. He opened it, and there it was—a delicate crystal tiara, sparkling under the lights.

Someone in the crowd gasped. “Isn’t that the Davenport heirloom? I heard Old Madam Davenport left it for the wife of the eldest grandson.”

Another voice added loud enough for people nearby to hear, “Wow. Giving the family tiara to his wife’s younger sister? President Davenport is basically shoving Aurora aside in public.”

Manuel carefully placed the tiara on Amber’s head. Perfect fit.

Amber looked toward the corner where I was standing, her voice soft but deliberate. “Dad, Mom, Manuel… doesn’t this feel wrong? After all, Aurora is the Moore family’s real daughter and your wife. Shouldn’t these things belong to her?”

My parents immediately grabbed her hands, shaking their heads. “What are you saying? Aurora married well, and she has the Davenport family backing her. This is just planning ahead for you, giving you what’s rightfully yours.”

Manuel’s calm voice cut through. “If it hadn’t been for that accident, this would have been yours anyway.”

I felt like someone had ripped the air out of the room. My parents’ words hit like slaps, Manuel’s like knives. The crowd’s eyes felt like spotlights scanning me, full of pity, ridicule, enjoyment of my misery. I could practically feel Amber smirking, showing off her victory.

I should have felt sick or crushed, but I didn’t. I felt… calm.

I set down my wine glass quietly and turned away. People whispered behind me.

“Look, her eyes are red… she must have cried in the bathroom.”

“Poor thing, her parents and husband all favor the adopted daughter.”

I didn’t care. I went straight to the restroom.

The reflection staring back at me wasn’t crying. My makeup was intact, my eyes dry. I’d forgotten everything. The way I’d begged my parents for love, begged Manuel to notice me, begged for scraps of care. All of it was gone. Those people I once worshiped felt like strangers now.

I touched up my lipstick and was about to leave when I stopped.

Down the corridor, Manuel had Amber pinned against the wall, kissing her hard. His hands were in her hair, his other hand gripping her waist like he didn’t want to let go. Amber leaned back, tilting her neck, letting him.

After what felt like forever, he pulled back slightly and rubbed her lips with his thumb. His voice was low and rough. “Satisfied now, baby?”

Amber smiled against him, soft and sweet. “Manuel, I know I’m asking a lot. I already have the family tiara, but I still wanted a kiss… If my sister saw this, she’d probably be crushed again.”

He shook his head and held her tighter. “That’s not my fuckinv problem. I never liked her. I could never like her. You’re the one I’ve always loved, Amber.”

He kissed her again, and I froze, feeling my chest tighten as if someone was squeezing it. Is this… the leftover warmth from when I loved him? I raised my hand to my heart, wondering if it would ever go away.

The kiss went on for what felt like three minutes, and then Manuel finally stepped back and walked away.

I waited until Manuel and Amber disappeared completely before stepping out of the shadows. I took a shaky breath, straightened my skirt, and was about to head back to grab my bag and leave.

But the second I walked into the hall, Amber ran up to me and grabbed my wrist hard. “Sister, if you like the tiara Manuel gave me, I can give it to you. So why would you steal it?!”

I froze. “Steal it? What are you talking about?”

“You’re still pretending!” Amber’s voice shook, her eyes red. “I just went to the restroom and the tiara was gone. The waiter said you were the only one near my bag!”

Before I could even respond, my parents rushed over. They slapped me, no words, just pure anger. “Aurora! You can’t be happy unless you’re causing trouble every single day, can you?!”

My cheeks burned from the hit, and before I could even speak, my mother screamed. “Guards! Search her now!”

Waiters swarmed me, yanking at my dress roughly.

“I didn’t steal it! Let me go!” I yelled, trying to pull away, panic rising.

The sound of fabric tearing echoed, and suddenly my shoulder was exposed. Gasps and snickers swept across the hall, making my stomach twist.

“Found it!” a waiter shouted, pulling the crystal tiara out of my bag. “It was with her all along.”

Amber grabbed it immediately, tears streaming down her face. “Sister, what do you have to say for yourself now?”

I shook, my words stuck in my throat. My mind felt like it was breaking again. I wanted to scream, to explain, to make them see, but no sound came out.

Then the crowd seemed to part by itself. The echo of heavy, measured footsteps grew louder, cutting through all the noise. I looked up and froze.

Manuel was walking toward me. Each step made my chest tighten, his polished leather shoes clicking against the marble like they were stamping on my heart.

“Why would you steal it? Have you forgotten? I’ve never treated you like my wife.”

I looked up at him, at the coldness in his eyes.

“Aurora, some things aren’t meant for you. And they’ll never be yours.”

I blinked and a small smile spread across my face, one he didn’t expect. I could see his brow twitch slightly, subtle but noticeable. He’d seen me cry, scream, make a scene, but he’d never seen me look like this. Like I’d let something go.

“I didn’t steal it,” I said softly, my voice carrying clearly across the hall. The light from the chandelier hit my eyes and made them shine, though it wasn’t tears—just… clarity, maybe.

I took a deep breath, forcing the words out slowly, one by one.

“And… I don’t like you anymore.”

The room froze. Every pair of eyes turned to me, wide with shock.

They couldn’t believe it.

Me. Aurora. The girl who had thrown herself at him, who had begged for scraps of attention, who had cried for him endlessly. Saying I didn’t like him anymore.

But it was true. I didn’t.

All eyes were on me. Everyone was staring, their faces wide with shock. Only Manuel didn’t move, standing in front of me, perfectly dressed in a sharp suit, expression cold and empty, his eyes completely unreadable.

“How many times are you gonna play this game?” His voice was low, slow, full of sarcasm, and it cut through me. “I’ve told you over and over, no matter how much you act out, it won’t work.”

He leaned slightly forward, “I don’t like you. I just don’t like you.”

The words hit me like ice. The crowd snapped out of their shock and whispers started spreading fast.

“I knew it! How could Miss Moore suddenly stop loving President Davenport?”

“Yeah, she tried to kill herself forty-nine times just to get him to notice her more.”

“Tsk tsk, how sad and pathetic…”

I clenched my fists so hard my nails cut into my palms, but I didn’t even feel it. I opened my mouth, trying to say it again. I wasn’t playing. I really didn’t love him anymore.

Before I could speak, my father’s voice cut through, stern and sharp. “I apologize to everyone. It’s our fault for failing to raise her. That’s why she’s done something as shameful as stealing.”

He waved a hand to the bodyguards. “Take her to the hotel’s cold storage. Let her freeze overnight. Maybe she’ll sober up.”

My pupils shrank, my chest froze. “I told you I didn’t steal it!” I shouted, but no one even looked at me.

Two bodyguards grabbed my wrists roughly. I struggled, but then a sudden sharp pain shot up the back of my neck. I stumbled backward, my vision going blurry. My last sight before darkness took me was Manuel standing there, looking completely indifferent. Not a flicker of worry, not even a frown.

I woke up to biting cold. My eyelashes were frosted over, my breath came out in white clouds, and my body was stiff. My skin felt frozen, and even my blood seemed like it had slowed down. The thermometer in my head told me it was well below zero. I was only wearing a thin slip dress. My exposed skin was turning blue.

I had to survive. I had to. The immigration papers would be ready soon. I had to leave. I had to start over.

I forced myself to crawl toward the door. My fingers were numb, purple and stiff, but I pounded on the metal door anyway. “Help… please… someone… help me…” My voice was barely recognizable, hoarse and cracked. Still no answer.

Then I heard a voice outside, soft, laughing.

“Stop knocking, sister.”

I froze. Amber.

Her voice dripped with smugness. “Everyone’s busy celebrating my birthday right now. Who’s got time for you?” She laughed lightly. “Oh, and here’s a funny thing…”

“Is today your birthday too?” I croaked, voice shaking.

“Unfortunately, no one remembers. Aw, such pity.” She giggled, cruelly.

I bit my lip so hard it tasted like blood.

“I’m the center of attention in a huge, fancy banquet hall while you’re freezing half to death in a storage room,” Amber continued. “Aurora, so what if you’re a real rich heiress? So what if I came from an orphanage?”

I could hear her smirk through the words. “You’re still under my feet to stomp on.”

I closed my eyes, trying not to puke from the metallic taste rising in my throat.

Then her phone started ringing, and Amber had it on speaker, obviously so I could hear everything.

“Amber, where did you go?” Manuel’s voice came through, deep, calm, and… warm. The kind of voice I’d never heard him use with me.

“I feel a little dizzy…” Amber’s voice sounded weak and fragile. “I’m in the lounge…”

“Stay there. I’ll be right there, baby. Wait for me.” Then the call ended, leaving the cold storage dead silent again.

I closed my eyes. That voice brought everything back. The diary, the pages blurred with my tears. All those nights I spent scribbling my misery. All the times I watched him dote on Amber. The birthday last year where he rented the whole revolving restaurant just to show her snow. The fever she had while he stayed by her side all night, missing company events. The way his eyes softened when he looked at her but turned icy whenever he saw me.

I remembered how pathetic I felt, hiding in shadows, watching them fall in love while I begged for scraps of attention. And I realized something… I didn’t love him anymore. I hadn’t loved him in a long time. My lips twitched into a small, bitter smile, and then darkness swallowed me.

...

When I woke up, I was in my bed at the villa. Loud, ridiculous laughter and some cartoon voices shook the walls outside. I propped myself up, rubbed my eyes, and walked to the door.

Amber was sitting on the living room floor, legs crossed, snacks in her arms, doubled over laughing at the TV. “Sister’s awake?” she said, looking up with a grin. “Oops, did I wake you? Sorry about my cartoons.”

She crunched her chips loudly and kept talking. “I’ve been feeling tight in my chest these last few days. The villa air is nice, so Manuel let me stay a few days to recover… Hope you don’t mind, sister.”

I glanced at the sofa. Manuel was there, flipping through financial statements, long fingers moving carefully, eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses sharp and focused. TV blaring, Amber making every sound possible, and he didn’t even flinch.

I remembered something from my diary. The day I sat next to him eating an apple. He got angry, said the chewing noise was disturbing, told me to leave. From then on, every movement, every breath had to be quiet when he was in the study.

Now… Amber rattled the chips bag, made all sorts of sound effects with the anime, and he didn’t look up once. The difference between love and no love was so clear.

I was about to speak, but Manuel finally said, “If it hadn’t been for that accident back then, this family would have been yours.” His tone was flat, eyes still on the documents. “She’s just a usurper. Why do you need to report to her?”

I stayed calm. “Yes, you don’t need to report to me. Stay as long as you want.”

He paused, turned the page, and finally glanced at me. His gaze shifted behind his glasses, slightly lower, and I caught it. This wasn’t the scared me he was used to. This wasn't me begging for scraps.

I felt a flicker inside me, a small spark I hadn’t felt in years. I didn’t belong to them anymore. And maybe, finally, I didn’t care.

I stayed in my room all day, listening to the noise outside. Amber had the TV blasted so loud the walls shook, walking around in heels on the hardwood, laughing and talking to herself like she owned the place. She even opened Manuel’s expensive red wine to drink with fried chicken. Every single thing she did would’ve made him furious in the past. I remembered the cold stares, the clipped words, the way he’d stop me if I even breathed wrong. And now, I heard him quietly tell her, “Eat slowly. Nobody’s going to take anything from you. Relax, I’ve got it.”

I didn’t leave until dinner. When I got to the table, it was already set with plates of food, and Amber was sitting next to Manuel, grinning like the queen of the house. “Manuel, look at this, I can’t believe you remembered all my favorites! The fried chicken just the way I like it, and this wine, perfect pairing, you’re so amazing.”

“Yes,” he said softly, “I remembered everything you like, down to the smallest detail. I want tonight to be perfect for you. You’ve had a rough couple of weeks and I want to make sure you’re comfortable, okay?”

Amber’s eyes sparkled and she turned toward me, calling, “Sister, come on, don’t just stand there, join us! There’s plenty for everyone. Manuel’s been so thoughtful setting all this up. Don’t you want some too?”

I walked to the other end of the table quietly, feeling like I had wandered into someone else’s life by accident.

I picked up a piece of food, tried to take a bite, and felt my throat itch. I frowned and tried another dish, but the burning, prickling feeling only got worse.

“Sister, what’s wrong?” Amber exclaimed suddenly. “Why are your hands all red? Are you allergic to something? You’re scratching and I can see the rash spreading—oh my God, do you need help?”

I looked down. My arms were covered in angry red rashes. My chest felt tight, my breaths coming fast, and I tried to speak but nothing came out. I barely managed to point to my bag where the emergency meds were.

Amber jumped up, almost knocking her chair over, and ran toward my bag, but she stumbled and spilled a bowl of scalding soup right onto my arms. “Ah! Oh my God!” she screamed. The burning pain shot through me, and tears ran down my face before I even realized it.

I saw Manuel moving quickly, but not toward me. He was holding Amber, checking her hands like she was the most precious thing in the world. “Did you burn yourself? Fuck! I told you to be careful! How could you be so careless?”

My vision blurred. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was him carrying her away.

...

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The nurse was changing my IV drip. “Your allergy was so severe you could have died. You also have second-degree burns. And no one has come to see you in four days. Why hasn’t anyone come for you? Does your family not know?”

I opened my mouth, but then heard whispers outside.

“I heard President Davenport booked the entire floor?”

“Yes, all because Miss Moore got burned. He’s spoiling her so much, if I’d come a little later her wounds might have healed by now. Can you believe it?”

“She’s so lucky. I wouldn’t even know what to do if I had someone do all this for me.”

I closed my eyes slowly. “I… I have no family.”

The nurse hesitated for a second and then quietly left.

The ward had been quiet for a while when my phone buzzed. I fumbled to answer it, and a frail but strong voice came through.

“Rora it’s me, Grandpa.”

I froze. The Davenport patriarch, the only elder in my diary who’d ever been kind to me, was on the line.

“Rora I know what’s been happening lately,” he said, his voice tight with worry. “You’ve been through too much. Now that Manuel has married you, he has to treat you right. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure no one mistreats you.”

I felt a tingle in my nose and my chest ached in a way I hadn’t felt in years. I almost cried. “No need, Grandpa, I’m fine.”

“You’re heartbreaking Rora” he said, sighing. “You’re supposed to be this young lady from a rich family, and yet look at you. Abducted as a child, ignored by your own parents, while they spoiled their adopted daughter instead. And Manuel…” His voice faltered for a second, thick with frustration and sorrow. “You’ve done everything for him. Learned every massage technique he liked, hunted down rare tea sets from cities away, stayed up for days when he was hospitalized, handled his mother’s funeral on your own. And he treats you like you’re nothing. He’ll regret it, I swear.”

I stared blankly at the white ceiling. None of it made sense anymore. I didn’t remember any of it. But hearing him describe it, the way he had been cold, the way I’d given everything, my chest ached like someone was squeezing it.

“Alright, Grandpa’s checking out now,” he said finally. “Remember, if you need anything, just call me. I’ll be there.”

The call ended, and moments later the ward door opened. Manuel appeared, every bit as immaculate as always, sharp suit, cold eyes, and that faint air of superiority.

“You had an allergic reaction, tried to kill yourself, and then went running to my grandfather for comfort,” he said, voice low and mocking. “Besides threatening suicide and calling Grandpa, do you have any other tricks up your sleeve to get my attention?”

I wanted to explain, but his eyes made me shrink. I whispered, “I didn’t mean to commit suicide… I just forgot I’m allergic to peanuts.”

“Forgot you’re allergic to peanuts?” he sneered, stepping closer. “Why don’t you just tell me you forgot who you even are?”