"Ms. Esme, what happened eight years ago caused a huge scandal. Mr. and Mrs. Walker said you shouldn't go out. You'll embarrass the family," Perry said.

He didn't even bother to hide the disgust in his eyes as he spat out the words "embarrass the family" forcefully.

"Ms. Wendy needs help at the hospital, so you'll have to clean up your room yourself."

"Feel free to do as you wish, Ms. Esme."

I glanced at the two housekeepers playing mobile games while lying on the couch.

I understood the reality perfectly. Someone as unloved and unwanted as I was would never truly be seen as the Walker family's daughter.

"Okay," I responded flatly.

The storage room under the stairs had been my room since I was ten years old. No one had ever cleaned it then, and it was no different this time.

But when I opened the door, the dust and mold still made me cough.

Yet, I was too exhausted. I lay on the bed and fell asleep right away.

…

In the middle of the night, I woke up groggy to get some water when I heard my brother, Brett Walker's, voice outside.

"Why did you bring Esme back? It's her fault Wendy got upset again. If anything happens to Wendy, I say we send Esme back into prison and never let her out! That would be doing society a favor."

My father, Richard Walker, sighed and stayed silent.

After a long pause, he finally said, "Esme is still a member of our family. The public may not know about this, but if someone with an agenda digs into it, it could harm Wendy."

"Then what should we do? It's cold and lonely at the hospital. Wendy can't stay there forever," Brett said, seemingly having forgotten that I was his sister, too.

Before Wendy came into our family, he used to call me "Mimi" endearingly.

My mother, Gemma Grant, spoke up. "When Wendy comes home, just make sure Esme doesn't come out and be an eyesore."

Although I had always known they didn't love me, hearing my mother say I was "an eyesore" still made my chest tighten painfully.

Suddenly, my phone rang. It was a message from Iris Marino, a professor from the Romeronian Academy of Letters.

"May God bless you, my child. Your poetry shines, and hiding yourself won't keep it from being seen," Iris wrote. "You won the award, didn't you? I told you this before. You were born to be a poet!"

I was momentarily speechless. I recalled how, back in prison, reading and writing were the only things that kept me going—especially poetry.

Nothing was born more vividly than poetry written in blood and tears.

At the time, there was international competition. I asked the prison guard who had secretly looked after me to submit my entry.

I didn't expect Iris to be one of the judges, and I never imagined I would actually win.

"I can't wait to take a genius like you to a place where your talent can shine. Will you come to Romero and be my student?" Iris asked.

I couldn't hold back my tears when faced with Iris, who was like a mother to me. I had never cried in the past eight years.

I met her during a community writing contest when I was in elementary school.

The kind and gentle elderly lady was a literature professor who truly appreciated my work. Even after I grew up, she kept in touch and asked more than once to bring me to Romero to study.

Sadly, before I could make my decision, the scandal eight years ago cut off every path I had.

However, Iris never believed the reports from that time. She worried about me for eight years and reached out the moment I was released.

To her, I was still her child.

Without hesitation, I texted back instantly and asked if I still had a chance to go to Romero.

"My child, God bless you. Literature will always be your home. Give me two weeks, and I'll come pick you up myself!" Iris replied.

She was coming in two weeks. I closed my eyes and started counting down in silence.

In just two more weeks, I would finally leave this place for good and start a new life.

…

The next morning, I was woken up by loud laughter. I pushed open my room door as my head pounded painfully.

What I saw was a warm, cozy scene.

Wendy had been discharged. She was sitting on the couch in a custom-made designer dress, and her makeup was flawless yet understated.

My parents, Brett, and Lance were all gathered around her.

Everyone cheered in unison, "Congratulations to Wendy on joining the company!"

My father laughed heartily, his expression full of pride. "Our Wendy is all grown up now. Time flies, and now she's ready to help out with the family business!"

"That's right. Once you can stand on your own, I'll fund a new company just for you, Wendy!" My mother chimed in.

Wendy gasped in surprise and asked, "Thank you, everyone! Did you all get me presents too?"

"This is a big moment in your life," my mother said as she handed Wendy a beautiful gift box. "How can there be no gifts?"

My father and Brett both handed their gifts to Wendy as well. Lance even placed a sapphire necklace around Wendy's neck himself.

Wendy's eyes were filled with joy, but she still put on a show of modesty.

"When Esme joins the company, you'll prepare even better gifts for her, right?" she asked.

"Sweetheart, what are you talking about?" My mother cut in. "She's not educated and has no character. Why would Richard and I ever let her into the company?"

"Precisely." Brett sneered. "The only reason we even feed her is because we're related. That's already more kindness than she deserves."

At the same time, Wendy noticed me. Her eyes immediately turned red-rimmed.

"Esme, you're awake. Mom, Dad, and Brett were just joking. Please don't take it to heart," she said. "I was unwell yesterday, so I couldn't pick you up. Don't be mad at me, okay?"

Lance glanced at me, then turned his attention back to Wendy. "You're being too kind. You didn't pick her up, that's all. Why would she blame you?

"Esme, come here. Let's celebrate Wendy!"

As I looked at the smug look on Wendy's face, I couldn't force a pleasant expression to appear on my face.

My father huffed angrily. "Eight years in prison, and that lazy streak still isn't gone. You got up this late and still haven't even congratulated Wendy.

"Don't forget. If it weren't for Charles, you'd be dead long ago!"

My father grew increasingly agitated. Just as he was about to grab a vase and throw it at me, my mother stopped him.

"Don't ruin a good day with bad energy!" she said, shooting me a glare when she finished.

They had all forgotten that it was my birthday today, too.

Ever since they adopted Wendy, I have never celebrated my birthday.

"It's alright, Dad." Wendy's eyes welled up with tears. "I don't blame her. It's all my fault."

As she spoke, she looked at me. "Esme, since I just got out of the hospital, will you give me a gift too?"

She paused, then added, "I want Lance. Will you let me have him, Esme?"

She laid bare her filthy intentions, but no one thought anything of it. They were all waiting for my answer.

"No," I said bluntly.

I couldn't bring myself to speak kindly to someone so shameless.

Wendy froze for a moment, then quickly put on a pitiful, innocent act. "Esme, I was only joking. Please don't be mad."

My parents, Brett, and even Lance rushed over to comfort her.

Lance turned around to reprimand me. "It was just a joke. Aren't you worried about making her spiral again? You're too immature, Esme. I think I need to reconsider our engagement!"

"Whatever," I replied.

So now I was immature?

I gave this picture-perfect "family" a small smile. There was no reason to feel upset anymore.

I threw Lance a glance, then walked out the door without a care for the expression on his face.

My father suddenly called out, "Put on a mask. Don't let anyone recognize you."

I let out a bitter laugh, but I still did as he told me to.

I just had to hold on a little longer. In two more weeks, I would have a brand new life.

…

After leaving the house, I went directly to the construction site located next to a low-income neighborhood.

This was the most accepting part of the city. No one asked about my past, and I found a job doing odd tasks at a diner.

It didn't matter how much the pay was. At least it came with one meal a day, and I wouldn't go hungry.

After all, the Walkers never had a place for me at the table. Ever since Wendy showed up, the only thing they did was pay my school fees on time and nothing more.

Every time I came home, they would have already eaten as a "family". All I ever got was a "figure it out yourself".

That pushed me toward one illegal sweatshop after another. As long as I could eat, I didn't care about the pay—I just needed to survive.

Lance used to be the only person I could rely on.

He had protected me, pulled me away from home, and taken me out to eat. He was always gentle to me, and I relied on him. I had given him all my trust.

So, when he became seriously ill ten years ago, I didn't hesitate to donate a kidney to save him.

After that, my body got weaker every day. I couldn't even lift heavy things or exercise anymore. It hadn't mattered to me then, as long as I could save his life.

Everything ended when he sent me to prison himself. He helped my family frame me and forced me to give up my guaranteed spot in university.

Once Iris took me away, I wouldn't have to see him again.

No one would be able to hurt me anymore.

…

I continued going to work as usual until I saw the news on TV that Wendy and Lance had gotten engaged.

I had a hard time believing it despite everything.

Lance's family and the Walkers had known each other for generations. My engagement to him was, in fact, arranged by our grandfathers.

Lance and I had grown up together, and he knew my sufferings better than anyone else.

I once believed that Wendy could take everything from me, except him. But now…

…

When I got home that night, my mother spoke first.

"Esme, you're back. Come, let's sit down and talk about your sister's marriage," she said. "You owe Wendy anyway. Since Wendy likes Lance, she'll be the one to marry him.

"You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

Did they think Lance was some sort of toy that could be passed around?

I found this whole situation somewhat hilarious.

It all started with having to give up my room to Wendy.

Then, it was the puppy I rescued and the guaranteed admission spot—they all became Wendy's, even when she never appreciated any of it.