Abandoned for the Adoptive Daughter

Everyone at school knew the class president, Lucille Levins, had grown up surrounded by love. When the weather turned cold, her fairy godmother brought her homemade pear tea. Whenever someone wronged her, her older brother was always there to stand up for her. Meanwhile, when I had a 104-degree fever and called my mom over a dozen times, all she cared about was how I was interfering with her work. When I begged my brother, Aldon Rowntree, to take me to the hospital, he snapped impatiently, "You're old enough to take care of yourself. Why can't you even do that?" No one in class wanted anything to do with me. Lucille was the only person who would eat lunch with me. She even slipped candy into my desk when no one was looking. For her eighteenth birthday, I spent half a month knitting her a scarf by hand, determined to give her something special. However, the moment I pushed open the doors to the banquet hall where she was celebrating, I froze. My mom, who had never once attended a parent-teacher conference for me, was kneeling on the floor, straightening the hem of Lucille's dress. My brother, who had refused to take me to the hospital just days ago, was carefully placing a birthday tiara on her head. With tears in her eyes, she threw her arms around them. "Thank you, Godmother! Thank you, Aldon! You treat me better than my own family ever did." Mom caressed her cheek with a look of pure adoration. "Oh, sweetheart. You're just as precious to us as our own daughter." The scarf slipped from my hands and fell to the floor. I finally learned the truth. My mom was Lucille's fairy godmother, and Aldon was her older brother who always had her back. It was not that they did not know how to show love. They simply did not want to love me.