Dream Girl Over Sister

The day I returned home, the rain was pouring. My brother, Mitchell Bishop, didn't come to pick me up.

"Maggie's not feeling well. You'll have to get home yourself."

His voice over the phone was cold and detached, devoid of any warmth.

I quietly packed my things and set out for home.

It had only been a year since I was sent away to boarding schooll, yet somehow, I had forgotten how to get back.

The day Mitchell drove me to that place, the journey felt so short—so short, I didn't have time to explain to him that I didn't push Maggie Andrews down the stairs.

So short, I couldn't calm Mitchell's fury before he shoved me into that dark, suffocating prison.

But now, after walking in the rain for what felt like forever, soaked to the bone, I still couldn't find my way home.

Maybe, I no longer had a home.

Our parents had passed away when we were young, leaving Mitchell and me to rely on each other.

But now, Mitchell had chosen Maggie over me.

For more than a year, he didn't visit me once.

Once, when I fell gravely ill, all I wanted was to go home. I desperately missed Mitchell.

But when I called him, he didn't even let me finish my sentence before cutting me off.

"Don't be such a crybaby."

Mitchell abandoned me. I had no home to return to.

-

"You're making a scene. You've been there a whole year; why are you still this stubborn?"

Mitchell stormed into the police station, his face a mask of irritation as he glared at me, dripping wet from head to toe. His brows furrowed in disdain, and his voice lashed out like a whip.

"Maggie was sick today—that's the only reason I didn't pick you up. You're an adult now, aren't you? Can't you find your way home without pulling a stunt like this? Did you really think I'd let this kind of behavior slide?"

"I'm sorry, Mitchell. I didn't mean to. I… I really forgot how to get home."

My legs trembled, and the sound of his anger made my body instinctively cold with fear. Already shivering from the rain, I now felt frozen to my core.

When Mitchell fell silent, his expression unreadable, I panicked. Without thinking, I groveled before him.

"It's my fault, Mitchell. It's all my fault. Please forgive me. Don't send me back there again. I promise I'll be good. I'll do whatever you say, Mitchell."

Even the police were stunned. One of them hurried to lift me up and gently tried to reason with him.

"Let's go home. I don't want you embarrassing me here." Mitchell's face was dark with fury. He turned and walked out.

I followed him closely, almost afraid to breathe.

Before getting into the car, I carefully placed my damp jacket over the seat to protect it.

"What are you doing?" he snapped, his brows knitting into a tight frown.

Lowering my gaze, I mumbled softly, "My clothes are wet. I didn't want to dirty your car."

Mitchell's frown deepened, his irritation clearly visible. I immediately lowered my head even further.

After a long pause, he finally sighed, his tone impatient. "Just get in."

-

Had I been gone too long? The house where Mitchell and I had spent over a decade of our lives felt completely unfamiliar now.

The framed photo of us that used to hang in the living room was gone, replaced by one of him and Maggie.

The cream-colored sofa I had begged Mitchell to buy had been swapped out for a garish pink one I disliked.

My bedroom? It was no longer mine. It looked completely different. Everything that once belonged to me was gone, replaced by someone else's scent, someone else's presence.

"Nora, you're back?"

Maggie emerged from Mitchell's room, her smile delicate and saccharine.

"You've been away for so long, so I had Maggie move in," Mitchell explained as he walked over to her, placing a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Her injury—you know, the one you caused when you pushed her down the stairs—left her with permanent damage. Try to be more understanding. I've had the small attic room cleaned out for you. You'll stay there from now on."

I glanced up at the dark, cramped attic space. It used to be nothing more than storage for old junk.

But I didn't complain. At least it was a place to sleep.

At school, eight of us were crammed into a tiny, poorly ventilated-dorm room.

On hot, humid nights, I would wake up drenched in sweat, feeling like I was suffocating under the weight of an invisible stone pressing down on my chest.

But even that wasn't the worst of it.

Shortly after arriving at the school, late one night, I woke to the sensation of hands groping me. When I opened my eyes, I saw a pair of greedy, lustful eyes staring back.

I screamed, but he clamped his hand over my mouth, muffling my cries.

I struggled with all my strength, desperate to get away.

I saw my roommates open their eyes, watching everything unfold.

But none of them did anything to stop it.

-

From that night on, I never slept soundly again.

Compared to that, this attic—small, cold, and isolated as it was—felt like a blessing.

"Nora, I'm so sorry I took your room. I hope you're not upset about staying up there."

Maggie's voice was sweet, but her smile was full of mockery. I knew she was taunting me.

In the past, I would've confronted her without hesitation. I'd never been one to back down from women like her.

From the moment we first met, Maggie and I were at odds. Her coy, deceitful nature repulsed me, yet she clung to me like a shadow.

At our graduation party, she deliberately fell down a staircase in front of me. When everyone rushed over, her tearful accusations painted me as a cruel bully.

I'd never forget the way Mitchell held her protectively that day, his gaze filled with disappointment, anger, and disdain as he looked at me.

"You've let me down. I wish I didn't have a sister like you."

But I didn't push her.

That day, I waited at home for hours for Mitchell. He didn't come back. He didn't even answer my calls.

Instead, his secretary arrived with strangers who dragged me to the car.

Without a word of explanation, Mitchell sent me to that boarding school.

"I failed to teach you how to behave. Stay there and reflect. You can pay for Maggie's injury with your time."

That was when I realized I could never win against Maggie.

Not because she was better than me, but because the scales in Mitchell's heart had already tipped in her favor.

So now, even though she had taken my room, how could I dare show any dissatisfaction?