All Chapters of They Chose My Foster Sister, I Built My Own Life: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The day the Grand Fellowship results came out, Adrian and I were on the train from Cape Cod back to Boston. Sophie sat in the cramped two-seat row beside us.Three years earlier, Adrian had promised that once we finished the program, he would take me to Cape Cod for two nights, just the two of us, to make up for everything we'd missed. Those three years were filled with deadlines, pattern revisions, and all-nighters. Anniversaries and birthdays got squeezed out. He said he'd make it up to me when the program ended.For that trip, I'd booked a place by the water and a sunset sail, and I'd hired a photographer who shot on film. The day before we left, Adrian showed up at my door wheeling Sophie's suitcase and talking as though this had always been the plan."Sophie's under a lot of pressure from the job search, and she's in a bad place. Let's bring her along. The more, the merrier."I pushed the disappointment down and stepped aside to let them in.On the first day, Sophie got a last-min

The next day, my fever still hadn't broken, and my whole body ached. But that night was the final showcase for our three-year program. It was the first time we would present our work to brands, the press, family, and friends as independent designers.I had my armor ready. A silver-gray gown I'd designed and sewn myself. I had chosen the cut, fabric, and embroidery entirely on my own. Adrian's cuffs carried the same silver thread, and we'd planned the whole look together. He'd laughed and promised that after the showcase, we'd take a proper set of photos as a couple.But when I came out of the shower, the closet was empty. The gown was gone.I could hear a stylist working downstairs. I hurried down, and the first thing I saw was Sophie standing in front of the full-length mirror. She was wearing my silver-gray gown. The stylist had already taken in the waist and adjusted the back closure, and it fit her perfectly. My mother stood beside her, helping her choose earrings.My mother saw me

I had booked an early flight to San Francisco for the next morning. I planned to leave quietly.That evening, I brought my case downstairs. The house was unusually quiet. An envelope with my name on it sat on the hall table. Inside were the interview materials for the Boston studio. Adrian had scheduled it for ten the next morning.I was about to call him when my cousin tagged me in an Instagram post. I opened the video. The private club was full of balloons, and one line appeared on the big screen: New Beginnings in New York: Sophie and Adrian.The camera panned across the room. My parents, Adrian's family, relatives, people from our program, friends from the industry. Nearly all of them. Sophie stood in a champagne gown in front of the cake, laughing. Adrian raised his glass and clinked glasses with those around him, but all the tenderness in his expression was for her. A room full of people, everyone included. Except me.My cousin's caption read: [Elena isn't here tonight. I hear he

The send-off party ended abruptly. My parents, Adrian, and Sophie rushed home.My mother sent me one email after another. In one of them, she kept coming back to the first thing they saw when they opened the door. My keys, lying in the tray in the hall. Under them, a shipping receipt. Three portfolio cases, sent to San Francisco that afternoon.My room hadn't been torn apart. Quite the opposite. It had been cleared out, leaving it tidy and almost empty. My passport, hard drives, samples, and tools were all gone. So were the jewelry from my parents and the watch and bag from Adrian. It took them a long time to trace the items to a consignment shop and learn that I'd sold them.What really broke them was the photo wall in my studio. It had once been covered from edge to edge with pictures of me growing up, family photos, and photos of Adrian and me. Now only faint tape marks remained. I hadn't torn up the photographs. I'd put every one of them into an archive box and written a single pla

Three days after Design Week closed, I saw my parents outside the glass door of my studio.One pane of glass between us. My mother held a beautiful gift box. My father was telling the receptionist, "I'm her father."I didn't think of it as a reunion. My body tensed on instinct, and I took a step back. The receptionist looked up at me and asked if she should let them in. After a few seconds, I nodded.My mother's eyes turned red the moment she walked through the door. "Elena, we just want to give you the celebration you didn't get that night." She opened the box. Inside was a custom-made gown. The fabric was far more luxurious than that of the silver-gray dress, and the craftsmanship was much finer.My father slid a black card across the table. "We've restored the account. If the apartment's too small, we'll rent you a bigger place here."I didn't reach for either one. My mother's voice grew urgent. "Are you still angry about the dress?"All the hurt I'd swallowed for three years sudden