Chapter 3

Sylvia was very cute, and I would gladly pretend to be a dog and bark for her amusement.

I thought that’s just how siblings played.

Later, I brought a small cake made by the maid to her room, but I heard her and her friend laughing mockingly at the door.

“Who would want her as a sister? I only play with her because she’s willing to act like a dog!

“If Dad had bought me a puppy, I wouldn’t even bother with her. She and her mom just came here because they know we’re rich—all poor people are like that!”

Their sharp, harsh words pierced my ears, and my hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

I dropped the cake plate and ran downstairs crying, throwing myself into Mom’s arms without hesitation.

“Mom, Sylvia doesn’t like me! She only plays with me because she thinks I’m a dog! I don’t want to play with her anymore!”

The cake fell to the floor. Mom pushed me away roughly and slapped me hard.

“Why are you so filthy-minded? Making up lies about Sylvia just to steal her attention! You’re not allowed to eat dinner tonight—think about what you’ve done! You’re really getting too big for your boots!”

I fell to the ground from the force of the slap, staring at her in disbelief.

Mom didn’t believe me.

After that, I learned to be good. I never cried in front of Mom again.

When the whole family took Sylvia out to play, I stayed at home and did my homework quietly.

When Sylvia was unhappy, I found ways to cheer her up.

The first time I got first place in the grade, I rushed home excitedly to show Mom my report card—but she tore it to pieces.

“What’s so great about getting first place? Can’t you see your sister is crying because she got third? You heartless thing—get out of my sight!”

That’s when I noticed Sylvia sitting next to Mom, sobbing softly. She pulled on Mom’s sleeve.

“Don’t talk to Zinnia like that, Mom. It’s amazing that she got first place—I’m just not good enough…”

Mom’s face turned even darker after hearing that.

“Get out! Never show me your report card again!”

No matter what I did, I could never make Mom happy.

All Sylvia had to do was cry, and she got all of Mom’s love.

Even though I walked on eggshells in that house, I’d once felt a moment of happiness.

Maybe my stepfather felt sorry for me—he gave me a piece of cake on Sylvia’s birthday.

Mom even smiled at me that day.

I ate that small piece of cake carefully, even though it wasn’t whole.

I thought that was the start of better days.

Later, Sylvia invited me to play hide-and-seek. It was the first time I’d been in her room.

Sylvia’s room was a huge princess bedroom, far more gorgeous than mine. She smiled and pulled me to lie on the bed. We fell asleep tiredly after playing.

I was woken up by Mom, who was hitting me violently.

Mom looked furious. I hadn’t even fully opened my eyes when I was slapped.

“Where is Sylvia! Tell me!”

Even my stepfather stood aside, his face dark and terrifying, hatred evident in his eyes.

I held my cheek, glancing at the bed instinctively.

It was empty—only traces of me sleeping there.

“But we fell asleep together…”

Mom knelt down, grabbing my collar roughly. Her voice was fierce: “You’re always putting on an act! Now you’re stealing Sylvia’s room too! The maid said it’s just you and Sylvia at home today—what did you do to her!”

Before I could answer, the nanny’s urgent voice echoed: “Sylvia is locked in the storage room!”

When Sylvia was carried out by my stepfather, she was covered in bruises. When she saw me, she trembled, her voice shaking: “I’m sorry, Zinnia—I didn’t mean to! Don’t hit me…”

I was too shocked to speak.

I hadn’t done anything before falling asleep!

Why was she pretending I’d hit her?

I staggered forward, only to be shoved hard by Mom. She stood over me, looking down from a place of cold authority.

“Nanny , throw her out.”

That day, I dragged my injured leg away, limping with endless grievances.

That’s when my heart attack struck. I fainted before I could leave the community.

Somehow, I survived.

Mrs. Wilson, our neighbor who didn’t know about my family situation, sent me home and scolded my parents.

“How can you let a child with a heart condition run around like this? What kind of parents are you!”

They didn’t care.

Mom looked at me with disappointment, blaming me for not dying somewhere farther away.

My original room was turned into Sylvia’s toy room, and I was sent to live in the storage room where Sylvia had been locked.

They forbade me from appearing in front of them. If I dared to show my face, I’d be beaten and scolded.

I thought Mom really hated me.

I never should have been born.

My thoughts slowly drifted back. A sharp doorbell rang at the front door.

Mrs. Wilson stood there with a sad expression, holding a small box in her hands.

My breath caught in my throat. I could feel a familiar aura surrounding the box—as if it was part of me.

Inside was my ashes.

I never thought Mrs. Wilson would be the one to bring me home in the end.

Our family had business dealings with Auntie Wang’s. When Mom saw her expression, she asked casually, “Mrs. Wilson, what’s wrong?”

Then she seemed to realize something, her face turning dark.

“Did Zinnia that troublemaker cause you problems again? I told you she’s an ungrateful wretch—always stirring up trouble! I never should have raised her. I wish she were dead!”

She forced a smile at Mrs. Wilson.

“Don’t worry! I’ll find that little bitch and make her kneel down to apologize to you!”

“Shut up!”

Mrs. Wilson’s roar cut off Mom’s cruel words.

Mrs. Wilson had always been kind to me. She’d never been married or had children, and she once said she wished she had a daughter like me. I’d always smiled and replied that I already had a mom.

Now her eyes were red with anger. She held out the box to Mom, her hands trembling.

“She is gone. The hospital asked me to pick up her ashes…”

“The hospital said her mother refused to come—I couldn’t believe it, so I brought them back for you…”