Chapter 4

For the rest of the year, I stopped asking my parents for money and never went home again.

They seemed to have forgotten about my living expenses too, and not once did they ask how I was doing.

Watching my bank balance grow made me feel more confident that I could really leave them behind.

Then the new year came.

Before the new semester started, my family held a birthday celebration for Harper. This time, Mom cooked everything herself.

My 22nd birthday had been less than a month earlier, and that day, I'd posted "Happy birthday to me" on my Instagram. Tanya and my coworkers from my part-time job liked that post, but not a single member of my family did.

At first, I thought something was wrong with my phone. But when I was helping Dad adjust the font size, I noticed he'd hidden my posts from his feed.

On the other hand, Harper was the only person he'd pinned at the top. Dad liked and commented on every post she made, then shared them to the family group chat.

After the semester started, I went back to my part-time job at the hotel. Whenever I had free time, I sent out résumés to companies in other cities. The farther away the city was, the more applications I sent.

Dozens of online interviews later, a design firm in Southia finally sent me a job offer. They offered me 8,000 dollars a month, with weekends off and full benefits.

I was supposed to graduate at the end of June and start work after that.

As graduation got closer, I went home again. This time, the whole family was focused on me.

"Beth, have you found a job yet?"

I hesitated momentarily before nodding.

Mom's face immediately lit up. "That means you'll be staying in the company housing. Harper found an internship too. It's close to home. I always thought her room was too small. We can knock down the wall between her room and yours, so she'll have more space."

Even though I'd already decided never to come back, hearing that still made my heart sink.They just assumed I'd be living in company housing, without caring where I was going to work or how far away it was.

"Do whatever you want," I said.

Harper exhaled and relaxed.

Mom tapped her on the nose. "I already told you that your sister would agree to it. After all, we're family."

I didn't stay the night, and just before I left, I couldn't help asking, "My graduation ceremony is next Saturday. Do you have time to come?"

Dad checked the calendar and nodded. Seeing that, Mom nodded along.

But then, Harper glanced at the calendar and said, "Oh, isn't that the day we planned to take our family photos? What should we do now?"

Mom and Dad immediately changed their minds and said taking the family photos was more important.

"It only happens once a year. We can't miss it."

Yet, they didn't realize that my graduation ceremony was a once-in-a-lifetime event.

…

Soon, it was my graduation day.

Just like all those times I'd carried my own luggage to school at the start of a new semester, I was on my own again.

Once I picked up my diploma that afternoon, I went home and started packing.

Back when I was a child, Harper and I had shared a big bedroom. But after Mom revealed that I was "adopted", I was moved into a cramped storage room no bigger than a walk-in closet.

The small room had been cleared out for me at the last minute, and the light was always flickering. With the wind howling outside, I'd lie there with my eyes wide open, scared that if I closed them, some monster would come for me.

It wasn't until I grew older that my fear started to fade.

I didn't have much to take with me, just my ID, bank cards, a few changes of clothes, and the official paperwork they'd just gotten for me with only my name on it.

When I left, my family still wasn't home, and no one even reminded me about the family photo. Their family photo from the year before was still hanging by the front door, and just like always, I wasn't in it.

In all 13 years, I hadn't been in a single family photo.

Harper was always the one who picked the date and time for the family photos, and somehow, I could never make it. Sometimes I was given the wrong date or time. Other times, she gave me the wrong location. Even when I managed to get there in time, the picture that ended up in the frame would still only have the four of them in it.

I turned the family photo facedown. Then I placed my ledger, filled with all the expenses I'd kept track of, along with my DNA test results, on top of it.

With that, I dragged my suitcase out and left the place that could hardly even be called home.