"Miss, you've been wronged."

"When the time is right, I'll speak to Mr. Cox. There has to be a way."

I looked into the butler's pained eyes and shook my head.

Nora Whitney had watched me grow up. Of course she knew who I really was.

"Nora, it's fine. This place isn't so bad."

I started tidying the room. Five minutes later, I was done.

Vivian had some illness—diagnosed from god knows where—that meant she couldn't sleep alone. She'd specifically requested me as her bedmate.

To keep me from disturbing her precious rest, Mom and Dad made me sleep on the floor.

The thin bedsheet Vivian "accidentally" spilled water on more nights than not. I'd end up lying on cold, bare hardwood.

Compared to that, this was a luxury hotel.

In the middle of the night, half-asleep, I heard the door creak open.

Mom and Dad.

Mom's voice was low, almost guilty: "Isn't this a bit much? Making Alex live in this dump—how's she supposed to handle it?"

Dad's tone was ice: "Consider it training. As a young lady of the Cox family, she should be able to endure this much."

"Don't worry. She's adapting fine. Besides, it's only temporary. I'll make it up to her later."

I smiled in the dark. Bitter.

Temporary. Make it up to me.

What made them think that after all this, I'd crawl back to the Cox family, grateful and devoted?

Not that I wanted the title of "Cox family's young lady" anyway.

After a hazy day of rest, Nora woke me before dawn.

She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable: "Miss... Miss Vivian is requesting you prepare her breakfast. Eighteen dishes. Not one less."

Eighteen dishes would take at least two hours. I'd definitely be late for class.

Knowing my homeroom teacher, I'd be standing in the hallway all day.

But I didn't hesitate. I dressed quickly and went.

From the first day I moved in, I knew Vivian would find every possible way to torment me.

This was all within expectations.

"Alex, I feel so bad asking you." Vivian's voice dripped with false sweetness. "But what can I do? You're a servant now, and Mom specifically assigned you to take care of me. You know how it is—eighteen dishes is the bare minimum for my breakfast."

I curled my lips.

Before Vivian was brought back to the Cox family, her family hadn't even been middle class.

Eighteen dishes is the minimum.

She probably hadn't even had proper breakfasts back then.

That's what I thought. But my face stayed blank as I set down the last plate.

"It's done, Miss."

I grabbed my bag to leave.

Behind me, Vivian suddenly collapsed, writhing on the floor.

"It hurts—I'm so itchy! Mom, Dad, help me!"

They rushed out of their room.

"Vivian! What's wrong?"

Through her pained grimace, Vivian pointed at me.

"Mom, Dad, don't blame Alex. She didn't mean to... give me something I'm allergic to."

Dad stormed toward me. His hand came down hard across my face.

The slap sent me crashing to the floor, ears ringing.

"Alex Cox! How could you be so vicious—trying to hurt your own sister!"

I clutched my cheek, stunned. "I didn't—"

Mom's gaze cut through me like ice: "What else would we expect from a servant's child? No manners. A twisted heart. I'm warning you—if anything happens to Vivian, you won't get off easy."

They swept Vivian up and rushed her to the hospital.

I thought it was over.

But before I could catch my breath, Mom's car screeched back into the driveway. She stormed inside, grabbed me without a word, and dragged me toward the car.

The spot she grabbed was exactly where I'd scraped myself falling earlier. The pain made me flinch.

Mom yanked harder, impatient. "What's with that attitude? Do you still think you're my daughter?"

"Vivian needs a blood transfusion. Now. Your blood type matches—let's go."

I stopped resisting, though something sharp twisted in my chest.

"Mrs. Cox, did you forget? I'm anemic. The doctor said I can't donate blood to anyone."

She froze. A flicker of embarrassment crossed her face.

Before she could respond, the driver announced we'd arrived.

Dad threw open the car door, grabbed me, and shoved me straight toward the operating room. "Hurry. Every second counts."

I looked at Mom one last time. Said nothing. Lay down on the transfusion bed like a good daughter.

My head grew heavier. Nausea coiled in my stomach.

They still needed more blood.

Before I blacked out, I heard the doctor mutter: "These rich families, I swear. The kid's perfectly healthy—why do they need this much blood?"

Bitterness flooded my chest.

When I woke, the doctor told me my parents had already left.

Home was in the suburbs. I didn't have a single dollar on me.

So I walked. Five hours. I nearly collapsed twice before I finally saw the Cox family's front gate.

But before I could reach it, I spotted all my luggage piled outside.

"What are you doing?"

I rushed forward, stopping a servant mid-throw, my clothes dangling from her hands.

Mom and Dad stood nearby, faces cold.

"After what you did to Vivian today, you have the nerve to come back?"

"You're not part of this family. Get out. We don't want to see you again."

I stood there, watching my belongings get tossed out like garbage.

I used to think I really didn't care anymore.

But the two people staring at me with those indifferent faces—they were my parents. And for someone who had nothing to do with them by blood, they'd done this to me.

"Alex, if you did something wrong, you have to face the consequences." Vivian clutched Mom and Dad's hands, her voice dripping with guilt. "Don't worry—they're just angry right now. You're only moving out temporarily. I'll put in a good word for you later, and maybe you can come back and stay in the maid's room."

But the moment our parents looked away, her expression twisted.

She mouthed the words slowly, making sure I caught every one:

Alex Cox, you can't beat me. Get out of the Cox family.

I didn't respond. I just looked at Mom and Dad.

"If you want me gone, fine. But I need Mrs. Cox and Mr. Cox to sign an agreement confirming I'm not a member of this family. A complete severance. No unclear entanglements later."

Mom blinked, clearly caught off guard. She tugged at Dad's sleeve, helpless.

He didn't react.

Seeing this, Vivian clutched her head and burst into tears. "Mom, Dad, maybe let Alex stay? I'm okay. Even if she really hates me and wants to hurt me... it doesn't matter."

The moment she finished, Dad's expression hardened.

He pulled out his phone and called a lawyer.

Within minutes, the agreement was in his hands.

After both of them signed, he tossed it at my feet.

"The agreement you wanted. Sign it."

I crouched down, picked up the agreement, then grabbed the pen.

Mom's voice cut through the silence.

"Alex Cox, have you really thought this through? Once you sign, your tuition, your life—none of it will be the Cox family's concern anymore."

I lifted my head and met her gaze.

For just a second, panic flickered in her eyes.

Then it was gone. I signed without expression.

"Mrs. Cox. Mr. Cox. From this moment forward, I have nothing to do with either of you. Don't worry—I won't come around to disturb your lives."

I gathered my scattered clothes piece by piece, stuffed them into the suitcase, and walked out.

I hadn't gone far when my body started burning up. My vision blurred at the edges.

A fever. Of course.

Despair wrapped around me like a shroud.

My legs gave out. I found a random corner, hugged my luggage to my chest, and sank to the ground.

Tears streamed down my face again.

I stared at the agreement in my hand, and the pain hit in waves.

Black ink on white paper, spelling out that my parents were severing ties with me—and that I owed them for years of "child-rearing expenses."

But they forgot.

Vivian came to the Cox family when she was five.

From that day on, I stopped being their daughter. I lost the right to spend a single cent of their money.

While Vivian wore designer labels and traveled the world, I picked through her discarded clothes and stayed locked in my room.

When school started, Vivian signed up for every enrichment class money could buy.

I scraped by on competition prizes to cover my own tuition.

Apart from a few hundred dollars each semester for public elementary school, I never touched the Cox family's wealth.

They were so afraid Vivian might be upset by the sight of me that they refused to give me living expenses—yet forced me to board at school.

The Cox family's own daughter, reduced to begging the homeroom teacher for poverty assistance.

That's how I survived.

Memory after memory flashed through my mind.

Then everything went black, and I collapsed completely.

When I opened my eyes, Ms. Sanchez was standing over me.

"Alex, how do you feel? Still uncomfortable anywhere?"

I stared at her in shock. "Ms. Sanchez? Why are you here?"

"I was passing by and saw you unconscious on the sidewalk. I tried to take you to the hospital, but you kept mumbling 'no hospital,' so I brought you home instead."

Her brow creased. "Why were you lying outside alone? Where are your parents?"

The question pierced straight through me.

"I don't have parents. Not anymore."

Ms. Sanchez had always known my situation.

She pulled me into her arms, her embrace tight with heartache.

"It's okay. Stay here with me. I'll support you through school."

The pain in my chest sharpened to a point.

A teacher who'd only known me a short while chose to help me out of pure compassion. My own parents only ever shoved me toward hell.

Under Ms. Sanchez's care, my body slowly recovered.

I let myself believe this could last—that I'd make it to the college entrance exam and finally be free.

Then the news hit: Ms. Sanchez had been fired.

I stormed to my parents with bloodshot eyes, my voice cracking into a scream.

"Why? Why would you do this? She didn't do anything wrong!"

Vivian stood beside them, malice curling her lips into a smile.

"Oh, Alex. You really don't know?" She tilted her head, savoring the moment. "I discovered that Ms. Sanchez's private life is... improper. Someone like that has no business being a teacher. So I had Mom and Dad take care of it."