Chapter 5

They swore up and down that they'd never play favorites again.

But I stayed lukewarm toward them, no longer eager to please like before.

They grew more anxious by the day, until finally Dad made a decision: they would throw a gala and formally introduce me to their entire social circle.

They should have held it years ago, but they'd kept putting it off because they were afraid of upsetting Alistair.

Meanwhile, I was just packing for the move.

The day before I was supposed to leave, once everything was ready, I went to say goodbye to a friend, the only real friend I had.

On his TV, an entertainment news program was airing an interview with Dad.

"Mr. Holloway, what's Alistair like at home?"

"He's our only son, and we've pinned all our hopes on him. We just finalized our will yesterday, and everything's going to him, so—"

Dad's pupils shrank as he realized what had slipped out.

That's how favoritism works. Cover your eyes and mouth all you want, and it'll still seep out of every pore.

I never imagined that, as their biological son, I wouldn't get even a cent of their estate in the end.

Their love and their money both belonged to Alistair, the son they'd raised.

With a cold laugh, I pulled out my phone and forwarded the clip to Dad.

Half an hour later, while my friend was hugging me goodbye, Mom started calling nonstop.

"Bennett, it's bad! Something's happened to your dad! He's fighting with a reporter! Please, you have to go see!"

By the time I got there, Dad and the reporter were still grappling, and a crowd had gathered to watch.

Dad kept yelling.

"I told you it was a slip of the tongue! And you aired it anyway? Did you just ignore everything I said?

"Do you have any idea how serious this is? You bastard! Go to hell!"

Mom's bodyguards arrived just in time to pull them apart.

Only then did Dad notice me, and panic crossed his face.

"Bennett... I didn't mean it... It really just slipped out. Please don't be mad, okay?

"Bennett... trust me one last time... Don't be angry... Don't leave your mom and me..."

I stood at the edge of the crowd and watched Dad in this sorry state.

Countless times, when Alistair falsely accused me of pushing him into the pool, I had begged Dad exactly like this, but he had never believed me once.

Instead, he'd jab a finger in my face and yell, "How did I ever end up with a son like you? I wish I could throw you out of this house!"

I nodded and helped him up.

"I get it, Dad. Let's go home."

I didn't scream or fall apart like I used to, and that only scared him more.

That same night, he moved the gala up to the very next day.

"Bennett, we'll hold the party right away and tell everyone you're back, okay?"

He barely waited for an answer before he started calling people in to set things up.

Mom was anxious too, and she rushed to call everyone and let them know the gala had been moved up.

But before dawn the next morning, I left for the airport.

I looked back toward the house one last time.

Dad, Mom, I hope you'll be happy. I hope you'll have a life without me in it.

At seven sharp, the calls started pouring in.