Chapter 1

It wasn't until they noticed my hand still hanging awkwardly in the air that everyone finally remembered I was standing there.

"Hayden Fisher, I don't think we need to worry about you."

My mother, Vivian Fisher, nodded while frowning in agreement. "You picked such an ordinary major. You'll be lucky if anyone hires you at all, so don't act like you're in a position to be picky."

Stella Daniels paused while scrolling through the graduation photos on her phone. She frowned. "Hayden's blocking Roman in this one. Delete it."

Out of all 380 photos taken that day, it was the only one in which I appeared.

"Roman looks so handsome in these. Let's not ruin the album with this one."

I stood there, my fists slowly clenching at my sides.

So it wasn't that they hadn't seen me. They had.

They just thought I didn't belong in the picture.

At that moment, every compromise I'd made over the years suddenly felt pathetic.

To my parents and my sister, Roman Hopkins had always been the better son. Even my own girlfriend reserved all her tenderness for him.

If that's how it was, then I'd take the hint. I'd accept the job, which meant never coming back.

...

After deleting the photo, Stella handed her phone to Roman so he could pick out a few more favorites.

Just then, a notification popped up. It was the result of one of his job interviews. He had been rejected.

Roman's eyes instantly turned red. "Am I really that incompetent? I can't even land a job."

Stella stepped closer, gently patting his shoulder. "It's not you."

Her voice was so soft it almost melted. "They're the ones who don't know talent when they see it. Roman, don't say that. It breaks my heart seeing you like this. How about I take you out for a drink tonight? It'll help you forget about all this."

Before she'd even finished speaking, my mother had already wrapped him in a hug.

"What nonsense are you talking about? If Hayden couldn't find a job, I'd believe it.

"But you? You've excelled at everything since you were a kid. There's no way someone like you would have trouble getting hired."

Then she glanced at me. She didn't have to say anything else. The meaning couldn't have been clearer.

"That company's the one with bad judgment. We'll keep looking. There's no need to rush."

I hadn't said a word or done anything. Yet somehow, I'd become the measuring stick they used to prove how outstanding Roman was.

Growing up, I'd wondered more than once if maybe the hospital had switched us at birth.

More than once, I'd wondered if I was really the neighbor's son, and Roman was my parents' real child.

Unfortunately, the DNA test said otherwise.

Later, I convinced myself the problem had to be me. Maybe I wasn't likable enough or good at saying the right things. Maybe I just wasn't exceptional enough to deserve their love.

So I pushed myself harder than anyone else.

Only after I finally achieved something did I realize the truth. Their favoritism toward Roman had become a habit they couldn't break. Ignoring my feelings was simply part of who they were.

After all, no matter how badly they hurt me, I always found my own way back.

I stood there watching Stella murmur soft words of comfort to Roman.

At the same time, my father, Owen Fisher, pulled out his phone and called the hiring manager at St. Aurelius Group.

When he hung up, he smiled confidently.

"Leave it to me. Your first job is important. We can't afford to settle. At the very least, you should start somewhere like St. Aurelius."

Roman always had someone ready to catch him. The slightest setback was enough to send everyone rushing to his side, eager to shoulder his disappointment for him.

In freshman year, Roman failed one of his core classes.

My mother immediately used her connections to hire an upperclassman to tutor him for $300 a session. She prepaid twenty lessons without blinking.

That same semester, I scored a 95 on one of my own major exams. I excitedly sent my grades to my mother, hoping I'd finally hear her say she was proud of me.

Instead, all I got was blame.

"You said you studied so hard. So why did you still lose five points?"

After that, I never sent another report card home.

In junior year, I came down with acute gastritis. The pain was so intense that I collapsed outside the science building and couldn't stand back up.

I called Stella and asked her to take me to the hospital.

Silence filled the line.

Then she sighed softly. "Roman has a presentation tomorrow. He's really nervous, and he wants me to help him practice.

"Hayden, you've always been independent. You can call an Uber yourself, can't you?"

When my driver arrived, one look at my face was enough for him to get out of the car. He helped me all the way into the emergency room.

A complete stranger could see I needed someone to lean on, but my girlfriend believed I could handle it alone.

Maybe I'd spent too many years pretending I was okay. Eventually, they'd all convinced themselves I didn't feel pain or sadness.

A long while later, my mother casually asked about my job search.

I had barely opened my mouth when my father waved dismissively.

"With that useless major? What kind of good job is he expecting? He should just take whatever he can get."

My sister, Peyton Fisher, glanced at me before wrinkling her nose. "Exactly. Just get a job already. Otherwise, you'll be freeloading off Mom and Dad after graduation."

Even Stella chimed in, "If you really can't find anything, I could probably ask whether my company has an opening at the front desk."

She said it so naturally, as though she'd genuinely given my future some thought.

I lowered my eyes and opened the offer letter that had been sitting on my phone for the past week.

Northwest Deep Space Materials Institute.

Outstanding salary, world-class research opportunities, and located nearly 2,000 miles from home.

For seven days, I hadn't accepted it, not because I couldn't decide but because I was waiting.

I was waiting for my mother to ask me where I wanted to build my future or for my father to make one phone call for me, the way he'd done for Roman.

I was waiting for Stella to remember the promise we'd made—to stay in the same city after graduation.

But with only six hours left before the offer expired, not one of them had asked.

They were too busy paving Roman's future, comforting him, and feeling sorry for him.

Fine.

I pressed "Accept".

A message appeared almost immediately.

[Hayden Fisher, welcome to the Northwest Deep Space Materials Institute!]

In that moment, the first sincere recognition of my abilities came from nearly 2,000 miles away.