Chapter 2

I don’t rely on my looks to make a living, but when you’re negotiating deals for a company, appearance is basic professionalism. Who would want to do business with someone whose face is covered in scars?

A surge of fury rose in my chest. I glared at Suri, who had just been flung to the floor.

She had been about to keep screaming, but when she saw my blood-smeared face and the look in my eyes, she recoiled two steps and burst into tears.

"Waaah—Mom! This weirdo is bullying me! Come save me!"

I didn’t care whether she was crying or not. I strode forward in two steps, grabbed her arm, and raised my hand, aiming to smack her across the backside.

"If Mom won’t discipline you, I will!

"You’ve been spoiled rotten—fed well, pampered, and given everything you want. Who taught you it’s okay to hit people? Who taught you that you can disrespect your sister like this?"

I didn’t think my words were that harsh. Yes, I was furious, but she was still my full-blooded younger sister.

If our parents couldn’t bring themselves to teach her right from wrong, then someone had to. Otherwise, once she entered society, she wouldn’t just fail to support herself, but she’d bring the family trouble.

What I failed to realize was just how important Suri was in our parents’ hearts… and how little authority I had in this house.

My hand hadn’t even landed yet when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure flash at the doorway. It charged straight into my side.

The impact was enormous. I lost my balance, and my head, which was already injured, slammed again into the sharp corner of the table.

"Ah!"

A short scream tore out of me. The second blow made my skull feel like it was splitting open. Nausea surged. I knew these were signs of a mild concussion.

Shaking my head hard, I looked up.

Mom was standing across from me, clutching the sobbing Suri in her arms, comforting her tenderly.

"Oh, don’t cry, don’t cry. I only have one precious baby, and that’s you. I don’t love your sister at all. Stop crying. I will kick her out right away, okay?"

I could still excuse Suri’s childish cruelty as adolescent rebellion, but hearing my own mother say she didn’t love me…

My heart clenched violently. Tears slipped from my eyes before I could stop them.

"Mom, weren’t you going out to buy groceries? Why haven’t you left yet?" I asked, my voice trembling.

She shot me an irritated glance. "You and Suri were fighting. How could I just leave? She’s so small. What if you hurt her?"

An incredulous smile tugged at my lips.

So Mom had been standing by the door the entire time.

She had watched Suri throw water on me and smash a glass into my head. She watched her force my face into broken shards until my entire face was drenched in blood.

And through all of that, she hadn’t stepped in or even told us to stop.

Not until I finally snapped and tried to discipline Suri—before my hand even touched her.

Then she had rushed in like a spinning top and slammed into me, sending my head crashing into the table corner.

Suri was completely unhurt. My face, on the other hand, was covered in bleeding wounds.

Could Mom really not see that?

Maybe she couldn’t because her eyes had never once turned toward me. They were always filled entirely with Suri.

A memory surfaced: ever since Suri was born, Mom had seemed to lose all interest in me.

When I came home during middle school breaks, other kids were picked up by their parents. Mom had to cook for Suri, so I dragged my luggage and backpack alone, walking more than ten kilometers back home.

During the college entrance exams, other parents waited nervously outside the school gates. Mom took six-year-old Suri on vacation instead. For those three days, she left me $20 for food. I survived on dry bread while taking the most important exam of my life.

In college, she said I was an adult now and should be self-reliant. She never paid a single cent for my tuition or living expenses. Every summer, I worked myself to exhaustion just to afford staying in school.

Meanwhile, when Suri was still in elementary school, she received $100 a day in pocket money.