Chapter 1

For a moment, my brother, Xavier Summers, looked surprised that I'd agreed so readily. But the expression quickly gave way to the usual certainty that everything would go the way he expected.

"It's good that you're being understanding." He looked away, his tone casual and dismissive as he added, "You'd better clear your stuff out of the room soon. Otherwise, it'll just get in the way when the housekeeper cleans. Don't blame me if something gets thrown out."

I lowered my head and poked at the food on my plate. I mumbled softly, "Okay."

At that moment, Chloe Summers looked up, her eyes red.

"Xavier, maybe we should let Clara keep her room. I did so badly on the SAT. I don't even feel like painting anymore—"

"Chloe!" Mom cut in immediately. "Don't say things like that about yourself. Your grades have always been excellent. You were just nervous this time.

"Besides, so what if your score wasn't great? You're gifted in art, and your paintings are beautiful. We'll pay to have your work exhibited someday. It'll look great on your college applications."

Dad set down his wine glass and added gently, "That's right, Chloe. Don't overthink it. Xavier is right. It took a lot of effort to find a good tutor for the prep school. Next time, you'll do just fine."

Chloe lowered her head, her shoulders trembling as if she were too moved to speak. The next second, she glanced up again, looking hesitant.

"But Clara hasn't checked her score yet. What if she did really well? Wouldn't I just be holding her back?"

I lifted my eyes and looked at her. I knew she was waiting for me to respond, to awkwardly reassure everyone that I didn't mind and that she was more important, just like I always had before.

The foolish thing to do was to insist on checking the score they'd gone out of their way to prevent me from seeing. Then, I'd be scolded for upsetting Chloe.

But this time, I said nothing. And surprisingly, nobody expected me to say anything either.

Xavier let out a mocking laugh, then picked up where Chloe left off.

"Chloe, why would you even think that? How well could someone from the countryside do? The only reason she'll get into that prep school is because of you."

He said it so naturally. Dad didn't correct him, and neither did Mom. None of them even looked at me, as if Xavier's words weren't an insult at all, but simply an obvious fact.

Everyone in this family looked down on me without even realizing it. Although I'd expected as much, it still hurt to hear them say it out loud.

The conversation at the dining table turned lively again. Mom started planning their vacation to Eroba. Dad promised to buy Chloe the necklace she'd been eyeing when they got to Varesia. Xavier suggested stopping in Larazz to visit an art exhibition.

A dull ache settled in my chest. The food in my mouth suddenly tasted like nothing. I set down my utensils and said softly, "I'm done eating."

No one responded.

Only when I stood up and left the table did Xavier finally glance my way. His tone was filled with impatience. "Don't forget to clean out your room."

I nodded and headed for the stairs.

Behind me, I heard Chloe ask in a tearful voice, "Is Clara angry with me?"

Then came Mom's gentle reassurance. "Of course not. Your sister has always been so understanding. Alright. That's enough. Tomorrow, I'll take you shopping for that designer handbag you've wanted for so long, okay?"

Understanding—a word I'd been hearing for 18 years.

With my foster parents, being understanding meant taking beatings without fighting back and accepting insults without defending myself.

After returning to my biological family, it meant giving up everything for Chloe, the daughter whose life had been turned upside down by the truth.

As I climbed the stairs, I heard Xavier say, "Oh, Chloe, didn't you mention wanting to learn horseback riding? A friend of mine owns a ranch in Willesen. I can take you there when we visit…"

His voice gradually faded into the distance.

I pushed open my room door and looked around.

There really wasn't much to pack. After all, most of the things in this room had never belonged to me in the first place.