They Never Chose Me

The day I returned from Liboston, my family also came back from their trip to Hoschland.

As soon as Mom walked through the door, she glanced at the empty kitchen and immediately began complaining to me.

"You knew Cynthia gets carsick and can't eat anything on the road, yet you didn't prepare a meal at home beforehand. As the older sister, you don't have the slightest sense of responsibility!"

Faced with Mom's accusation, I was speechless.

Although I was technically the older sister, I had only been born an hour before Cynthia. However, ever since we were children, I had been expected to take care of her and give way to her in everything. If I fell short in even the slightest way, I would be branded as vicious.

At the same time, I had only been home for less than ten minutes. I had not even had time to take a sip of water.

It was especially difficult to get a cab at the high-speed railway station, so I had specifically asked Mom and Dad in the group chat what time they would be returning, hoping they could pick me up on their way home.

However, my message went unanswered, as though it had sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

With no other choice, I resigned myself to waiting in line.

I stood beneath the scorching sun for a full two hours before finally managing to get a cab.

Just then, Cynthia nudged Mom's arm and silently mouthed at her to check her phone.

Mom froze for a moment before opening the family group chat. Only then did she see the message I had sent.

In that split second, a trace of guilt appeared in her eyes, but she still turned on me reproachfully.

"Next time, remember to call us directly if you need anything. Nobody has time to sit around checking all those useless messages in the group chat all day."

What she did not know was that I already knew the truth. It was not that she did not have time to check the family group chat. It was because they had already created another one exclusively for their beloved Cynthia.

It was an exclusive group dedicated to doting on her—one without me as an eyesore.

If I remembered correctly, that group had existed since I was in eighth grade.

Back then, I had been hit by a car on my way home from school and knocked unconscious. A passerby tagged my parents dozens of times in our family group chat, yet neither of them responded. In the end, only when the traffic police had obtained my parents' phone numbers through the local police station did they finally show up and take me to the hospital.

In contrast, Cynthia had never said a single word in that group chat, yet Mom and Dad always knew exactly where she was and what she was doing.

In the past, I had refused to believe that my parents did not love me, so I had never allowed myself to suspect such a thing.

Now, I finally understood that whether it was that group chat or this family, I was the unnecessary one.

As I thought about it, I lowered my head and answered quietly, "Got it. There won't be a next time."

I made a note to myself that I would never trouble them again, and I would never again place my hopes in the illusion of familial love.