Chapter 1 No Choice

Giselle fell silent.

Since I was young, I knew I had an older sister.

Giselle left home when she was eighteen. She believed our family was too poor to give her the life she wanted, so she ran away with a wealthy man and became his mistress.

…

When I was in school, my classmates often asked me about my sister.

"Is it true your sister is someone's mistress, Iris? That's absurd!"

"Your sister chose to sink that low. She must be the one making all your family's money, right?"

"My mom says your sister has no shame. She won't let me hang out with you!"

I hated her. I hated her for disgracing herself and dragging me into it.

If it weren't for her, my parents never would have tried to start a business either. They took over a storefront, but the business failed, and they eventually went bankrupt.

Now she was back, selling the only thing my parents had left behind for me to remember them by.

After I finished yelling at her, she looked at me and chuckled coldly.

"I wish I could, but I can't. You want me dead? Tough luck, then. I'm the only one who'll take you in, so you'd better listen to me. Otherwise, I'll send you right back."

At ten years old, I went pale with fear.

As much as I hated her, I knew I had no choice.

Our relatives all assumed my parents had left me money. Whenever they talked to me, they would eventually tell me to go check with the bank.

They didn't genuinely care about me, but I didn't think Giselle was any better. After all, we'd never even met.

Still, I had no choice. She was my legal guardian.

I went with her to an unfamiliar city in her car, and eventually we arrived at an apartment.

It was her home. It was spotless, with men's clothes and shoes lying around.

My room was upstairs. It wasn't spacious, but it was enough.

"You can do whatever you want on most days. But when my boyfriend comes over, you must stay in your room. Don't come out and cause trouble for me."

I lowered my head and said nothing.

Giselle's boyfriend was a bespectacled, middle-aged man. When he saw me, he gave me a faint smile. "You must be Iris."

I nodded, picked up my glass of water, and hurried upstairs, closing my door behind me.

I could tell from his smile that he was distant.

It reminded me of the teachers at my old school. They would smile and nod at me, too, but there was never any warmth in their eyes.

It was as if I were someone who didn't matter one way or the other.

As my mother used to say, "Some people think they're above everyone else. They're not people we can afford to get close to."

He was exactly the kind of person she meant.

Giselle told me to call him Victor. He ran a trading company in the city and drove expensive cars.

Whenever Victor came over, he brought gifts for Giselle and snacks for me. But he only stayed for a few hours and never spent the night.

I was also enrolled in a nearby elementary school.

No one there knew that my sister was a mistress, but I was still afraid.

I was afraid someone would find out about Giselle. I was afraid I would be mocked because of her.

That went on for two years.

…

By the time I started middle school, I had nowhere to go for summer vacation, so Giselle took me to her workplace.

That was when I found out she worked for Victor's company.

On my first day, I was told that the chubby woman in the office was Victor's wife.

At that moment, my heart sank.

I hated Giselle for bringing me there. Every time I ran into Victor's wife, my stomach twisted with nerves. I was terrified she would call me the mistress' kid.

Her name was Fiona.

Whenever she saw me, she would call out, "Hey, come help me with this!"

She would have me carry her bag and offer me money, but I never dared accept it. Every time, I refused.

I was afraid she would take it back later. Even worse, I was afraid she would call me shameless.

When I refused the money, Fiona simply patted me on the head.

At the end of summer, she bought me two outfits. When school started, she even drove me there herself.

When I found out the school offered boarding, I applied immediately.