Chapter 1

I walked out of the hospital clutching my test results, my stomach twisting with relentless pain.

Dr. Emmett Henderson's words still echoed in my ears.

I had late-stage stomach cancer. At most, I had six months left.

His eyes had been full of pity. He felt sorry for me, dying so young.

But I was strangely happy.

When I got home, I shut myself in my room. By the time I woke again, it was already the middle of the night.

The pain in my stomach was unbearable. I forced myself out of bed and felt my way to the kitchen in the dark, looking for something to eat.

There was nothing. Of course, there wasn't. Why would they ever save any food for me?

Maybe they'd forgotten I still lived here. I was used to it after all these years.

Without a word, I pulled out the pasta I'd hidden away and made myself a bowl. Pasta wasn't allowed in the house because my sister, Elina Spencer, didn't like it.

But ever since I was little, it had been the one thing I could rely on to fill my stomach whenever I was punished and denied dinner.

Early the next morning, one of the housekeepers woke me.

Today was my birthday party. Or rather, Elina's.

The house would be packed today. Mom and Dad had invited practically every prominent family in Fairmont.

I knew exactly how people laughed at me behind my back, but I'd never had the right to object.

Now, though, I was going to die soon. Three years of trying so desperately to please them suddenly felt pointless.

I didn't want to attend the party anymore.

"Miss Spencer, the makeup artist is waiting downstairs."

"Send them away. I don't want my makeup done."

The housekeeper stared at me in disbelief.

I couldn't blame her. This was probably the first time I'd ever refused something my parents wanted.

I locked my bedroom door and refused to come out.

A little while later, footsteps approached.

"Feli, come out, sweetheart. It's your birthday party today. You need to look your best for everyone. You're our little princess," Mom coaxed through the door.

"Sweetheart, didn't you say you wanted a pink sports car? Daddy ordered one for you. Come out and see it."

The pink sports car was something Elina wanted, not me.

Elina was my older sister. She'd been sickly when she was born, and my parents had wanted her to live a long, peaceful life without suffering. They'd treasured her from the beginning.

By contrast, I was an unplanned pregnancy. My parents hadn't even wanted another child. Grandma was the one who convinced them to keep me.

Even my name reflected the reason I existed. "Felicity" had been chosen with the hope that I would somehow bring Elina luck and keep her safe.

When I was one, my parents sent me away to live with Grandma. I didn't return to the Spencer family until Grandma died when I was twelve.

The first time I saw Elina, she was wearing a beautiful princess dress. The jeweled clip in her hair glittered in the sunlight. Then I had looked down at my own faded, worn clothes and lowered my head in embarrassment.

"Why are your clothes so shabby?" Elina looked me up and down with disgust. "Even the staff dress better than you."

The housekeepers covered their mouths, trying to hide their laughter.

"You can stay downstairs. Don't come up and make my space dirty."

And just like that, I was put in a storage room on the first floor. It was barely a hundred square feet, with no windows. Even the staff bedrooms were better.

When I first came back, Mom and Dad did pay some attention to me, probably because they felt guilty about abandoning me for so many years.

Elina thought I was stealing their love from her, so she started tormenting me.

After school, she would leave with the driver and make me walk home alone. The walk took two or three hours.

Then she'd tell our parents I'd been hanging out with boys after school, and that was why I'd come home late. Mom and Dad called me shameless and punished me by making me stay outside.

"That's not true," I protested. "Elina left with the driver without me."

Elina would immediately turn teary and throw herself into Mom's arms while crying, "I didn't! She was the one who wouldn't come home!"

The moment Dad saw his precious daughter crying, he became even angrier with me. He told the staff not to make me dinner, so I'd learn my lesson.

But when Mom and Dad weren't looking, I saw Elina smiling at me.

After it happened enough times, my parents grew to hate me more and more.

Whenever I finally made it home, the lights were already off, and the kitchen had been cleaned. There was never so much as a bite of food left for me.

There were always little cakes in the refrigerator because Elina liked them. I wasn't allowed to touch them. If I did, I'd be punished.

Once, I was so hungry that I secretly ate one.

The next morning, Elina told our parents I'd stolen something from her.

They didn't even ask what I'd supposedly stolen before Dad hit me twice, and they forced me to kneel on the jagged gravel path until my knees were scraped bloody. By the time they finally let me up, my knees were raw.

After that, no matter how hungry I became, I never dared touch anything in the refrigerator again.

Maybe that was when my stomach problems started.

As I got older, I learned to hide pasta in my room.

Whenever the hunger became unbearable, I'd sneak into the kitchen, make myself a bowl, then clean everything so thoroughly that no one would know.

Over time, I stopped appearing in front of my parents whenever I could avoid it. I became invisible in the Spencer house.

So when did Mom and Dad finally notice me again?

It was three months after Elina died. That was when they suddenly realized how much I looked like her.

Elina had worn her hair long, while mine was short. So my parents took me to get hair extensions. Once they were done, I looked almost exactly like her.

After that, they started calling me by the same pet name they'd used for Elina.

They moved me into her bedroom. They dressed me in the clothes and jewelry she'd left behind.

I did my best to imitate the way Elina talked, moved, and behaved because it made them happy.

None of it was what I wanted, but that was okay. If it made me matter to them even a little more, I could live with it.

Mom and Dad treated me better and better. I thought they'd finally accepted me.

In the end, I'd only been fooling myself.

On the first birthday after Elina's death, my parents had a makeup artist come to the house to get me ready.

I'd forgotten it was Elina's birthday. I thought Mom and Dad were throwing the party because they finally wanted to formally introduce me to all the families in their social circle.

Then the birthday cake was brought out. The smile froze on my face.

"Mom, Dad... did you get the date wrong?" I forced myself to smile at them. "Today isn't my birthday."

That had to be it. They must have remembered the date wrong.

But Mom and Dad only smiled at me.

"Of course, today is your birthday, Felicity."

"Look. It's the ruby necklace you wanted. Come here and let me put it on you." Mom beckoned me over, holding up a glittering ruby necklace.

Only then did I finally let myself understand the truth. I really was nothing more than Elina's replacement.

And that was when I understood the smiles on all those guests' faces. I'd thought they were smiling kindly at me.

They weren't. They were laughing at me.

I would never have a birthday that belonged to me again.

Maybe I never had.