I had always known that Micah and I were not related by blood. From a very young age, the children around me could tell that I did not look like my adoptive parents. They called me a bastard. Every time this happened, Micah would always rush up to fight them at the first moment. Although Micah got injuries all over his body every time, he beat up those children, he was unbothered. He would only smile and caress my hair, saying I would always be his little princess; he would always be by my side and help me drive away the bad people who bullied me.As we got older, Micah started running my adoptive parents' business, getting busier, and spending less time with me. However, no matter how far he traveled, he would always visit me once he came back, showing me the gifts, he picked out. Even with his busy schedule, he never forgot to celebrate my birthdays.I had always taken it for granted to accept all the kindness Micah had shown me, and I thought he would always be so nice to me.I
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