Chapter 2

It had always been like this.

I was born a few minutes before Julian, and for some reason, Mom and Dad had convinced themselves that I'd somehow deprived him of what he needed before we were born. In their minds, that was why Julian had always been the weaker twin.

And apparently, that made it my fault.

Whenever Julian cried, I was the one who got blamed.

This time, I couldn't even be bothered to defend myself.

"Go stand in the corner!" Mom shrieked, pointing across the living room. "And don't you dare move!"

Then they stopped paying attention to me altogether. They hurriedly helped Julian into a jacket and fussed over him as they rushed him out the door to take him to the hospital.

A moment later, the front door slammed shut. The house fell silent.

I let out a bitter laugh. Instead of going anywhere near that corner, I walked over to the couch, sat down, and calmly finished my own breakfast.

Every second I spent in this house felt unbearable. So, from that day on, I made sure I was barely home. I left early every morning and came back late at night, picking up whatever part-time work I could find.

All I had to do was wait for my acceptance letter. The moment it arrived, I was getting out of this house for good.

One night, I came home from work and heard Julian talking about me before I'd even made it through the living room.

"I saw Adrian outside a hotel today. He got into some rich woman's sports car. He even bragged about it to me. Said there was no point in going to college anymore now that he'd found some wealthy woman willing to pay for everything."

That was all it took.

Dad shot to his feet and hurled the mug in his hand at the floor. It shattered on impact, sending pieces skittering across the room.

"Absolutely shameless!" he roared. "Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for our family?"

Mom's face twisted with disgust. "Please. Look at him. Does he really think a woman like that actually wants him? She'll get tired of him soon enough and toss him aside."

The moment I stepped through the door, Julian's eyes locked onto me.

Mom spun around as soon as she saw me. "Where have you been? I told you to stand in that corner this morning, and you had the nerve to sneak out anyway? You think you're grown now? That you can just do whatever you want and we can't stop you?"

I said nothing. I simply took off my shoes and put them away, not bothering to explain myself.

My indifference only made Dad angrier.

"Have you suddenly forgotten how to speak?" he barked. "We're talking to you! Go get a basin of warm water and wash your brother's feet. Maybe then you'll understand what an apology looks like.

"He's had a rough enough day because of you. You're going to take care of him tonight, and you're not going to bed until he's satisfied."

I stopped. Julian was sitting there with the most insufferably smug look on his face.

For now, though, I couldn't let any of them know what I'd done.

So, I swallowed my anger, went into the bathroom, and filled a basin with warm water just like Dad had ordered.

I carried it back to the living room and crouched in front of the couch.

Julian leisurely held out his feet, waiting for me to wash them for him as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Then he leaned forward until his mouth was close to my ear.

"Want to know a secret, Adrian?"

His voice was barely above a whisper, low enough that only I could hear.

"I got Mom and Dad to change your college application. You're going to the same community college as me. All those great grades, all that studying... and what did it get you? You're still going to end up right beside me. Taking care of me, just like you always have."

I didn't lose my temper. I simply stood up, walked away, and went back to the cramped storage room they made me sleep in.

I shut the heavy door behind me, muffling the angry voices still coming from the living room.

Once I stopped doing everything Julian wanted, his tantrums only got worse.

And as usual, Mom and Dad bent over backward to keep him happy. This time, they decided a vacation might cheer him up.

Early the next morning, I woke to the sound of suitcases being dragged around outside.

I opened the door to my tiny room and stepped into the hallway. Several oversized suitcases were already scattered across the living room.

Mom barely glanced at me when I came out. "Julian's been miserable these past few days, so we're taking him to Bellmere Bay for a little vacation. It'll do him some good.

"You're staying here. I don't want you going anywhere while we're gone. And clean the entire house from top to bottom. There are leftovers in the fridge, so heat those up if you get hungry. Don't let anything go to waste."

Her tone was cold and matter-of-fact, like she was giving instructions to a housekeeper instead of talking to her own son.

Dad let out a dismissive scoff from across the room. "And don't even think about asking to come with us. You'd just ruin the trip.

"Your brother's health is fragile enough as it is. He doesn't need you upsetting him again. Stay home and think about your behavior."

Julian emerged from the master bedroom a few moments later, dressed in brand-new clothes for the trip.

The second he saw me, a smug little smile tugged at his lips. "Aw, poor Adrian. Stuck here all by yourself again while the rest of us go on vacation. Don't worry. I'll take plenty of pictures for you. That way you can at least see what you're missing."

I looked at the three of them together. Mom fussed over Julian's clothes while Dad helped with his luggage, the three of them looking every bit like a happy little family.

Once, that sight would have hurt.

I probably would have gone back to my room, buried myself under the covers, and cried where no one could see me.

But now? I felt nothing.

"Got it." That was all I said before turning around and heading for the bathroom.

Behind me, Dad muttered irritably, "What's with that attitude? Ungrateful brat. After everything we've done for him..."

Two hours later, the front door slammed shut.

At last, the house was completely silent.