All Chapters of Blind Brother: The Real Son They Abandoned: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Dad picked up the last piece of honey-glazed ribs at the dining table during dinner and placed it on my younger brother Henry Luther's plate.My hand froze, my fork still in midair as I reached for the honey-glazed ribs dish. I hesitated for a moment before picking up some vegetables instead. "I'd like to sign up for a math competition prep class, Dad…"Dad didn't even bother to look up from his food. "Henry's grades slipped on his last monthly exam, so help him with his studies this weekend instead."I said hesitantly, "I need to study for my own exams too…"Dad put down his cutlery and looked at me. "Your grades are good anyway. What's the big deal about helping Henry? I didn't raise you all these years just for you to refuse such a small favor, Julian."Henry chewed on the honey-glazed rib and said through his mouthful, "I'd like to join the public speaking competition—the city-wide one."Dad instantly agreed. "Go ahead and sign up for it. How much is the registration fee?"

The following morning, Dad brought out two plates of pasta. Henry's came with meatballs and mushrooms in a creamy white sauce, while mine was plain pasta with a thin, watery sauce, the pasta still slightly undercooked."Why isn't mine the same as Julian's, Dad?" Henry asked, prodding the meatball on his plate with his fork. He was asking a question he already knew the answer to."You're at the age where you're still growing, and basketball burns up a lot of energy. You need to have more meat in your diet, Henry," Dad replied. He then pushed a small plate of olives in front of me and said, "You should have these." Henry asked, "Isn't Julian at the age where he's growing, too, Dad?"Dad glanced at me, his expression cold and indescribable. "He doesn't need the extra nutrients. He spends all day cooped up studying anyway, so giving him such good food would be a waste."I lowered my head and ate my pasta, which was still a little undercooked and hard to chew. I couldn't help but feel

I felt my hands trembling slightly. I had suffered for 18 years. I was blinded in one eye, and I sustained a permanent scar on my forehead. I recalled the humiliation of being punished to kneel in the rain at night and the endless repetitions of "You're not our biological son", "You're not worthy of us", and "You're just an adopted child," which I had heard throughout the years.I squatted in the hallway, biting down hard on my lip as tears streamed down my face. I'd been Dad's biological son all along.It all came down to a single mistake on that paternity test result 18 years ago. I had suffered for it for 18 years, enduring mistreatment and contempt.I got to my feet, folded the paternity test result, and slipped it into the inner pocket of my coat. I wandered down the street in a daze, lost in thought. How would Dad react when he saw the result? Would he feel guilty? Would he pat my back to comfort me? Would he apologize to me? Would he feel sorry for my blind right eye and

I held my phone against my chest and lay down on the bed, noting that the water stain on the ceiling was shaped like a pair of open wings.It wasn't long before my phone started ringing like crazy. Ms. Lowe called, followed by the dean, the principal, and a reporter from the state TV station. I was ranked 3rd in the city and 17th in the state, with the highest score in the school's history.That afternoon, someone called my name from downstairs. Dad had come, with reporters, cameramen, and neighbors filming on their phones behind him. He pushed the door open, and the moment he saw me, his eyes welled up with tears.He grabbed me by the shoulder, gripping me far harder than I expected. "Behold my son! He has always been hardworking since he was a child! Julian is someone I personally raised!"He spoke into the camera with a choked-up voice, pulling off the act without missing a beat.Just then, a neighbor muttered from the back of the crowd, "Isn't that the adopted one from the Lut

I turned away and walked out, only to notice that a crowd had gathered outside.Mr. Zimmerman, our neighbor, craned his neck to peer inside. He had watched me grow up over the past 18 years.His gaze drifted over Dad kneeling on the floor, the two paternity test results scattered across the floor, the scar on my forehead, and the cloudiness in my right eye. He gasped sharply and slapped his thigh in realization. "Oh my! Didn't the Luthers spend years beating this kid and chewing him out? Did they think they could just claim him back after finding out he's their biological son?"Someone nearby added, "I know, right? Everyone in the neighborhood has seen how they treated him. They made him do heavy work outside in the dead of winter until his hands were cracked and bleeding."And we all know how he went blind in his right eye. They said it was an accident, but what kind of accident just happens like that? They suddenly want to claim they're related now that he has a bright future a