Chapter 2

The next morning, Mom dragged all of us out to the mall.

She insisted that since Charlotte was about to start a corporate job at a massive company, she needed to look the part.

They had picked out a designer pantsuit that cost over 6,000 dollars, a 15,000-dollar designer tote bag, and a 5,000-dollar pair of heels.

Every single time Charlotte checked a price tag, Mom would just beam at her and tell her to ignore the numbers.

"You're stepping into the big leagues now, so you have to look impeccable," Mom said.

Dad didn't hesitate to swipe his credit card at the register, while Nolan stood by with his hands full of shopping bags, asking Charlotte if there were any perfumes she wanted to take a look at.

Gavin even went as far as to crouch down on the floor, gently feeling the back of Charlotte's brand-new heels.

"The leather feels a little stiff here. Let's swap them out for another pair. I don't want you blistering your feet on your very first day of work," Gavin murmured.

I stood just a few steps away, staring at the tender expression on his face as he looked down at her feet.

Throughout the four years of college, I had spent countless days walking right by his side in shoes that pinched my feet.

Whenever my heels would crack open and bleed, he would merely laugh it off and tell me I was being overly dramatic.

It turned out he had always known that stiff shoes could pinch a person's feet. It was just that when those shoes happened to be on my feet, they were never worth his time or concern.

When we passed by a luggage boutique, I halted in my tracks.

My own suitcase had been in constant use for an entire decade, leaving the plastic corners completely cracked open.

I had wrapped multiple layers of clear packing tape around it, and the two wheels were worn down unevenly.

I picked out the cheapest model in the store, which came out to 329 dollars.

Instead of taking it straight to the counter to pay, I turned to Dad first to ask, "Is this one okay?"

Deep down, I suppose I was still harboring a shred of hope.

They had just spent over 30,000 dollars buying Charlotte a brand-new collection of designer clothes, shoes, and bags, so surely asking for a 300-dollar suitcase wouldn't be considered too much.

Maybe I just wanted to prove that I still occupied a tiny fraction of space in their hearts, even if it amounted to a mere one-in-a-ten-thousand shot.

Alas, Dad's brow instantly furrowed into a deep frown. "Don't you already have a perfectly fine suitcase sitting at home?"

"That one's been around for ten years, and it's already broken."

"Just because it's broken doesn't mean it's completely useless. Do you honestly think your mother and I work ourselves to the bone just so you can throw money out the window like this?"

Mom strolled over as well.

"Lottie managed to secure an incredibly prestigious job, so she deserves the best wardrobe."

She swept a dismissive glance over the suitcase in my hands, her tone dripping with impatience. "What kind of job are you expecting to land that would even justify buying a nice piece of luggage like this?

"Once you end up sitting behind some front desk at a run-of-the-mill company, nobody's going to care about what your suitcase looks like. Can't you just make do with what you've got?"

Nolan let out a sharp chuckle from the side.

"She's just being petty and competitive. She saw everything we bought for Lottie, so now she's jealous and wants to copy her."

My fingers froze against the extendable handle before I quietly slid the suitcase right back into its original spot.

Charlotte stood just outside the boutique, her brand-new 15,000-dollar bag resting on her shoulder while a mountain of shopping bags littered the floor around her feet.

"Are you really not going to get anything at all, Natalie?" she asked.

"No," I replied, keeping my eyes glued to the floor as I stared down at my own canvas tote bag, which had already started fraying along the edges.

It wasn't as if our family lacked money, nor was it a case where maintaining a respectable appearance didn't matter to them.

It was just that whenever a situation involved me, everything suddenly became unnecessary and a massive waste of money.

That evening, Mom booked a restaurant reservation under the guise of celebrating our joint graduation.

A massive cake sat on the table in the private room, and the very first thing I noticed was the message written across the top, "Wishing our dear Charlotte a very happy graduation and a spectacular future!"

Charlotte looked rather embarrassed.

"Mrs. Sinclair, did you forget to put Natalie's name on it as well?"

Mom didn't even bother to look up from what she was doing. "She doesn't even care for cake anyway. It doesn't make a difference whether her name's on it or not."

The truth was that I actually loved cake, but she had simply never bothered to buy one for me in my entire life.

As we sat around the dinner table, Dad pulled out a recommendation letter and handed it to Charlotte.

"I've already taken care of all the arrangements, so you can head straight over to Stellar Group next week to report for duty. The company sits incredibly close to our house, and the compensation package's fantastic."

Tears instantly welled up in Charlotte's eyes.

"You've all been so incredibly good to me that I honestly have no idea how I could ever begin to repay you."

Mom squeezed her hand. "Oh, don't worry about repaying us. We've started viewing you as our very own daughter a long time ago."

As I watched the three of them locking hands, I felt as though I had sat in the wrong seat. That loving display was too much to look at, and it felt like a crime for me to be there.

When the bill finally arrived, Mom covered Charlotte's portion, only to send a Venmo request to me for 136.50 dollars.

"Natalie, now that you've officially graduated, you can't keep relying on our money to get by," Mom stated firmly. "From now on, you'll be expected to split everything down to the penny, including family dinners, rent, and the monthly utility bills."

I looked at the exact change demanded of me down to the last cent.

I didn't say a single word and simply wired the money over.