"Come in, come in! I made all your favorite dishes!". His ex-wife—my sister’s mother—clutched Luke’s arm with one hand, while the other held onto my sister.

The four of them. Smiling. Laughing. Like a real family. And me? I stood at the threshold. An abandoned orphan. It was then that I realized the cruelest truth of all. Dad had known all along. He had known about Luke and my sister. And he had never once thought to tell me.

Everyone knew. Everyone except me. I was the only fool left in the dark, the only one who didn't see the joke—the cruel, twisted joke that was my life. I turned to leave, swallowing down the humiliation clawing at my throat.

"Lyra, you came all this way. Stay for dinner, at least."

My sister's voice was as gentle as ever, as if she hadn't just shattered my world.

"Yes, Lyra," Dad chimed in, though his tone felt more like an empty gesture than genuine care. "You’re already here. You might as well eat before you go."

Eat? I wasn’t sure I could even breathe properly, let alone swallow food. But I stayed. Because I wasn’t done. Not yet. I needed to hear it from Luke’s own lips. The dining table was set with an array of dishes, a feast laid out like a celebration. Braised pork. Steamed fish. Sweet and sour spare ribs. Every dish—my sister’s favorite. Not a single thing I liked.

Luke sat beside her, his every movement filled with tenderness as he piled food onto her plate.

"Smiley, eat more. You’re too thin," he murmured, his voice dripping with affection.

She smiled sweetly, picking up a piece of braised pork and placing it in his bowl.

"You eat too, Luke. You’ve been working so hard."

They acted as if I weren’t even there. As if I were nothing more than a shadow in the background. Then my sister pulled out her phone, scrolling through her photo album before turning the screen toward me.

"Lyra, look! This was taken at the snowy mountains. Isn’t it beautiful?"

In the photo, Luke had his arm around her, his smile beaming as they stood against a backdrop of snow-capped peaks. So breathtaking. So blinding. I felt something twist violently inside me. My stomach lurched. I bolted from the table, barely making it to the bathroom before collapsing to my knees. I retched, but there was nothing left inside me to throw up—only empty, gut-wrenching heaves that wracked my body.

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the bitter bile in my throat. A shadow loomed at the doorway. Luke. His expression was unreadable as he stared at me, hesitation flickering in his eyes.

"What’s wrong?" His voice was softer than before. Almost... cautious. "Are you pregnant?"

Pregnant? The word sent a shudder through me. I hadn’t had my period in a long time.

My heart sank, cold dread creeping into my veins. Could I really be…? I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to feel

Just as I struggled to find my voice, another presence appeared.

"Luke? What’s wrong?", My sister’s voice.

She walked up beside him, slipping her arm through his possessively, her eyes wary—like she was claiming her territory. Her gaze flickered to me, sharp and searching. I clenched my fists, something inside me snapping. I couldn’t do this anymore.

"Sister," I whispered, my voice shaking, "Did you know that Luke was my boyfriend?"

Her body stiffened. The warmth in her expression faded, replaced by a flicker of something else. Something unreadable.

"You always act so noble. How could you take your own sister’s boyfriend?" My voice cracked, my vision blurred by fresh tears. For a moment, my sister looked pale—shocked. She took a step back, shaking her head.

"Lyra, what… what are you saying?". Her voice trembled, laced with panic. "I didn’t know. I really didn’t know…". She covered her face with her hands and turned, running toward the bedroom.

With a loud bang, the door slammed shut. From inside, muffled sobs echoed through the house. Then came the storm. Dad’s face twisted in anger as he stormed toward me.

"Lyra! What did you say to your sister?!". His voice was sharp, filled with fury. "Did you bully her again?!"

His wife—my sister’s mother—pointed an accusing finger at me.

"You wretched girl! Ever since you came back, this house has been nothing but chaos!"

Luke took a step forward, his eyes now cold and full of warning. "Lyra, watch your mouth.". His voice was low, but the threat in it was unmistakable. "No matter what happens, if you dare tell Nancy anything else… I won’t let you go."

I stared at him, my heart twisting like a knife plunged deep into my chest.

"Luke, how on earth do you plan on keeping me?" I lifted my head, locking eyes with him. "Are you going to kill me?"

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips before I continued. "Or... are you just going to throw me away like garbage?". My voice was hoarse, raw with desperation. I needed to know. I needed to understand what I truly meant to him. But he refused to answer.

From the other room, my sister's sobs rang out, her cries shaking the walls.

"I'm sorry, Lyra... I didn't know... I really didn't know..."

She repeated it over and over, her voice trembling with grief. The sharp sound of her palm striking her own cheek echoed through the house. Slap. Slap. Again and again. Dad and Nancy's mother were devastated, their voices thick with concern as they rushed to console her.

"Nancy , it's not your fault. Don’t do this to yourself..."

"It's that cursed girl! She just couldn’t stand to see you happy!"

They surrounded her, comforting her, pampering her, treating her like the most fragile thing in the world. And me? I stood alone in the living room, an outsider in my own home.

I reached into my pocket, fingers trembling and pulled out the pregnancy test I had secretly bought.

Holding my breath, I took the test. Two bars. Bright. Red. Unmistakable. I was pregnant. I was really pregnant. I stared at the results, my lips curling into a laugh—harsh, bitter, broken. Tears spilled down my face as I laughed harder.

Fine. If they wanted to put on a show, then I would play along. Let’s see how long they can keep up this act. Let’s see how my sister plans to continue playing the innocent victim.