Chapter 2

After spending a month in the hospital, Chloe was finally discharged and brought home.

“Where is Lillian? Did she drop dead outside and decide never to come back?” The moment my mother stepped through the front door, she saw a thick layer of dust coating the floor and cabinets. Spotting the moldy food inside the refrigerator, she flew into a rage. “Her endless little tantrums are really getting out of hand!”

It was deeply ironic. During Chloe’s month-long hospital stay, both of my parents had remained by her bedside every single day.

Not once had they stopped to think about how I was supposed to survive all alone without a single cent.

Seeing that the house was in disarray was the only thing that triggered their memory of my existence. Yet my mother’s very first words were not out of concern for where I had gone, but to criticize me for being unreasonable.

I had long since grown cold and numb toward them. Their slander and misunderstandings no longer stirred even a ripple of emotion inside me.

Chloe, seemingly intent on fanning the flames even further, adopted a pitiful expression.

“It’s all my fault,” Chloe said softly. “I’ll call Lillian right now to apologize and beg her to come back. If she’s still unwilling, I’ll go out and look for her. I’ll drop to my knees and beg her to come home.”

It was always like this. Whenever Chloe put on a show of play-acting the victim, my mother’s heart would break for her. A mere few words from Chloe were all it took to shift all blame onto me—and I was always the scapegoat.

Since childhood, the endless grievances I had suffered because of Chloe were too numerous to count.

Sure enough, my mother ground her teeth in disgust.

“Does she think she’s worthy of your apology?” my mother snapped. “It was just a simple blood transfusion! It wasn’t going to kill her, yet she insists on being so dramatic! If she doesn’t want to come back, then she might as well drop dead outside!”

Chloe refused to let the matter rest and proceeded to dial my phone number anyway.

Despite her harsh words, my mother strained her ears to listen to the phone, looking completely ready to launch into a barrage of verbal abuse the moment I answered.

Because my phone had been powered off the entire time, Chloe sent a voice message on our family group chat instead.

“Lillian, everything is my fault. Please don’t blame Mom and Dad. Whatever it is, let’s talk about it at home. You can hit me or yell at me all you want, and I won’t complain at all.”

Chloe spoke with such deep sincerity that had I not known her true face, I might have been moved.

After waiting for a long time without any reply from me, my mother grew impatient.

“Chloe has already apologized like this, yet that ungrateful wretch still refuses to appreciate it!” my mother fumed. “She doesn’t deserve to be my daughter!”

With that, my mother removed me from the family group chat.

Had this happened in the past, my mother’s action would have devastated me.

Even though every single message sent in that four-person group chat revolved around Chloe, I had never brought myself to leave it.

I had deluded myself into believing that as long as I remained in that group chat, I was still part of this family.

I was like a thief peeking into their warm, happy life—even though there had never been a place for me in their world.

“Mom, don’t be angry,” Chloe purred, having achieved her goal. A triumphant smirk flickered across her lips before she sweetly snuggled into my mother’s arms. “You don’t just have Lillian. You still have me.”

My mother affectionately stroked Chloe’s hair. “You’re the good child after all. I wish I had never given birth to that ungrateful wretch!”

I let out a bitter smile.

Ever since I was little, my mother had repeated that exact same sentence over and over.

“I wish I had never given birth to you!”

I wanted so badly to tell her that I had never been given the power to choose my birth. If I’d known my life would turn out like this, I’d rather have been born a stray dog than into a family like mine.

She had given me life, and to save her precious younger daughter, I had paid that life back to her. We were even now.

My father emerged from the kitchen with a broad smile on his face, carrying a lavish spread of delicious dishes to invite my mother and Chloe to dinner.

Although my mother was a career woman who never cooked, I had never tasted a meal prepared by my father either.

Whenever it was just my father and me alone at home, he would always tell me to go eat some plain bread. Yet whenever Chloe was around, he would enthusiastically dash into the kitchen to prepare a meal for her.

I used to believe that my father was simply clumsy and didn’t know how to express love to his children. Only later did I realize that it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to love—he just didn’t love me.

“Chloe’s only just recovered,” my father said with a scoff, looking at her with unmistakable affection. “Don’t bring that curse up again. I wish she had even half of Chloe’s sense.”

I knew my father despised me. He simply wanted to bury the fact that he was the one who had caused my mother’s premature labor all those years ago.

Watching the three of them sit together so joyfully over dinner was painfully jarring.

For the very first time, I felt an overwhelming urge to leave this home forever.