All Chapters of Pick: Rich Stepdad or Poor Grandpa?: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

My mother looked at my sister and me with visible unease and said, "Rachel, Phoebe… which of you wants to come with me? The other will stay behind and live with Grandpa."Her gaze lingered on me before shifting, full of worry, to my sister.My sister had always been closer to her. Naturally, Mother hoped she would choose to go with her.Under that expectant gaze, Phoebe took the initiative. She seized our stepfather's hand and declared, "Mom, Dad, I want to be with you!"I, however, ran behind my grandfather and clutched his calloused hand.Across from me, Phoebe curled her lips into a mocking smile.I knew then—she must have been reborn, too.In our previous life, after Father died, we had faced this same choice. Phoebe had overheard at the funeral that Grandpa was a wealthy antique collector, so she chose him without hesitation.Before leaving, she even raised her chin proudly and sneered at me, "Soon I'll be enjoying life with Grandpa. As for you, just wait—you'll be stuck b

I knew Grandpa was all gruffness and soft heart. The next day, when I sneezed from a chill, there was an extra blanket on my bed that night.Grandpa's bookshelf was crammed with books—mostly history—so worn some lacked covers entirely. He insisted I finish them all, stern as a schoolmaster. History was dull and dense, but at night, he would pull me outside to the yard, point to the stars, and tell me those magnificent tales of heroes. Gradually, I grew interested.Occasionally, he taught me how to read soil layers. When I misidentified one, he'd scold me for being stupid—but then furtively note the mistake in his little book. Life was poor, but Grandpa treated me kindly, even if he never said it out loud. Worried I'd be at a loss without a mother, he often asked some village ladies to pop by and look after me.Winter break flew by, and soon school reopened. Late at night, I'd still see him scrubbing the mud from that rickety tricycle. He dropped me at the school gate, and before

It seemed the rumors about Grandpa were true after all.Steve personally and respectfully escorted Grandpa and me upstairs to a private suite on the second floor of the auction hall. The room was refined and lavish, stocked with exotic fruits worth a fortune. Even the tea, I was told, was premium and rare.Meanwhile, the Morris family sat tucked away on the first floor, hidden in an unremarkable corner.Steve handed Grandpa a small catalog of the evening's treasures. After slipping on his reading glasses, Grandpa studied it briefly, then pressed a numbered paddle into my hand."If you like something, bid for it. If someone displeases you, outbid them. My granddaughter has the right to do anything she pleases."With that, he left me in the suite and went off with Steve.Soon, a graceful woman in a dark teal couture dress stepped onto the stage. The silk dress hugged her elegant figure, her voice smooth and melodic."All items presented today are guaranteed authentic. Because of

Phoebe truly believed that blind compliance would buy her the life she wanted. By then, my little brother was already over a year old. All of Roger and Mother's affection went to him; Phoebe was nothing more than a tool to help the Morris family grow their wealth.The SATs were approaching fast. I didn't rest on weekends. I split my days between Grandpa's lessons in artifact appraisal and stratigraphy and my core school subjects. My mock scores were steadily above average, but far from excellent. Grandpa worried for me and urged me to rest, but when he couldn't persuade me, he left late-night snacks and a cup of warm milk at my door. Real care wasn't shown in words but in those small, consistent acts. Mother said she loved me while pushing me into the world. Roger called me his only daughter, but it was always for his own advantage.When the SATs ended, I managed what I'd aimed for, and I enrolled in Rosafiere University's archaeology program. Then Grandpa received an inv