Chapter 3

I looked at Kendra, and for a moment, she seemed like a completely different person.

Back when we were together, she'd always comfort me whenever I talked about how my family always favored Jude. She'd tell me that I could always rely on her, that she'd always stand by my side and support me.

But now, she was siding with them too.

"I'm disappointed in you too," I shot back. "Let's break up."

I turned and walked back into my room, and Kendra hurried after me.

"Why are you breaking up with me all of a sudden? I thought we were doing fine."

I tried to close the door, but she wedged her foot against it.

"Doing fine?" I asked, incredulous. "Do you honestly not realize how obvious your favoritism toward Jude has become?"

Kendra let out a laugh.

"So you're jealous," she concluded, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Alright, I'll tell you the truth. I've always been a little biased toward Jude because when I was 12, I nearly drowned on a family trip, and he was the one who saved me…"

As she told me the details of what happened back then, I frowned.

When I was 12, I had indeed saved a girl around my age. I hadn't dared tell my parents much about it because I was afraid they'd scold me for getting involved in someone else's business. Once I knew she was okay, I'd simply left.

Realization dawned on me.

It's no wonder back in college, a woman as exceptional as Kendra had gone out of her way to pursue me. I had been nothing but a nobody back then.

It turned out she'd been trying to return the favor.

Could everything she'd done for Jude really have been because she'd mistaken him for the boy who saved her?

If I hadn't seen what happened at the jewelry store, I probably would've believed her.

Still, I felt the need to explain.

"I was the one who saved you."

Kendra was stunned.

"What did you say?"

Just then, Jude opened the door, his eyes red.

"Owen, you're still the same," he choked out. "You always have to take credit for everything I do. But whatever. I guess that's what I get for being the younger brother. Just take the credit. It's fine."

Mom hurried in after him.

"You've been taking whatever good things Jude had since you were kids. And now you're even trying to take credit for saving someone's life?"

I couldn't believe my ears. They had been the ones taking everything from me.

Even the things Grandpa had left me, they'd tried to give to Jude. I'd only fought to get back what was mine. Yet somehow, whenever they told the story, I was always the one in the wrong.

But Kendra believed Jude.

"Enough, Owen," she scolded. "Stop making things up. I clearly remember the boy who saved me had the name 'Jude' on his shirt. I thought you'd changed your name back then, but later, I learned that I'd simply remembered the wrong person…"

Of course she remembered seeing Jude's name.

My parents had always bought new clothes for Jude, while I wore his hand-me-downs. They'd simply covered the name on the old school uniform with a new name tag. It must have come loose when I pulled Kendra to safety.

Jude rubbed at his eyes, pretending to wipe away tears that weren't even there.

"Thank goodness you remembered, Kendra," he said. "Otherwise, I'd have been blamed for something I didn't do again."

Sympathy flashed across Kendra's face.

"Owen, this is your fault," she said. "You should apologize to Jude."

I looked at Jude's smug expression, then at the three people standing against me.

"What if I refuse?"

"Then get out of this house!" Dad roared.

"I've been the one paying the rent this whole time," I shot back, laughing. "Are you sure you want to kick me out?"

Mom suddenly let out a dramatic wail and beat her chest.

"How did I end up with such a cold, heartless son? We're family, and yet you have to keep score over every little thing!"

A moment ago, they had been the ones telling me to get out. Now that they needed something from me, they suddenly treated me like family.

The hypocrisy was almost laughable.

But Kendra didn't see it. If anything, she looked even more disappointed.

"Just leave. I'll pay the rent."

"Fine. You can pay for it."

If she wanted to keep supporting this whole family of freeloaders, I'd let her.

I grabbed the suitcase I'd already packed and walked out of the door.

"Are you really leaving?" she asked, her eyes reddening when she saw that I was actually serious.

"He's just putting on a show." Dad scoffed. "There's no way he'd actually leave. He's been like this since he was a kid—always playing mind games."

Kendra frowned and reached for my suitcase.

"Enough, Owen. You're a grown man. Stop throwing a tantrum like you did when you were a kid!"

I yanked the suitcase back from her.

She had no idea that I wasn't throwing a tantrum. This time, I was really leaving.