What Happens In The Ending Of 'The Highly Sensitive Child'?

I'm adopted by my parents. They are very nice to me—so nice that they keep praying for my health and happiness before my bedtime every night. Later on, Mom is pregnant with a baby. I hide under my blanket and spend the night crying. Then, I secretly pack the tiny suitcase I've brought with me. But my parents don't send me away. Instead, they treat me even nicer. On the day my little sister, Freya Walker, gets born, Mom takes my hand and pats me gently on the head. "You're an older brother now. That's why you have a little sister to be with you." Dad lifts me over his head while spinning me in circles happily. "You really are our lucky charm, Ash! You'll always be our beloved darling!" Finally, I don't have to keep worrying about getting kicked out. From that day onward, I really think that I've become a part of the family. That is, until Freya smashes my favorite toy car model one day. I'm so angry that I smack her on the spot. She stumbles away from me, soon plopping to the floor. At first, she's stunned for a few moments, only to start bawling immediately after. Mom loses her mind instantly. She shoves me away before scooping Freya into her arms and keep asking her if she's hurt. Dad rushes over and starts strangling me immediately with frighteningly bloodshot eyes. "We've kept you around for so many years, and yet you have the gall to bully Freya? Believe me when I say I'm definitely sending you back to—"

As the third-generation heir of the Oakenfeld Medical Group, 33-year-old Frost bears the weight of being the Chosen Son. However, having witnessed the cruelty and hypocrisy embedded in family feuds, he finds himself profoundly exhausted by family love and anything that stirs his emotions and prompts love. A solitary panther, he discovers solace and fulfillment in one place alone: the operating table. On the other hand, Bianca, a dedicated yoga instructor, grapples with severe allergies that can lead to fainting spells triggered by the scent of spring flowers or even someone else's cooking. Committed to a life of celibacy, her primary goal is to purchase a house. Bianca harbours a significant secret despite being labelled a "rich client harvester" by her peers due to her hard work in accumulating wealth. Their paths cross dramatically during a commercial shoot that takes a tragic turn, where Bianca sacrifices her life to save Frost. Despite this courageous act, animosity brews between them. Surprisingly, Frost, determined to express his gratitude, decides to buy an entire neighbourhood for Bianca. Rejecting his offer, Bianca is left stunned when she stumbles upon Frost's deepest secret. Unveiling a chilling revelation, the secrets of these two individuals converge toward a distant, mysterious, and sinister direction.

I've been in a secret relationship with Declan Gibson for five years, and I've tried to seduce him more times than I can count. Yet, when I stand in front of him in my birthday suit and a pair of bunny ears, all he does is worry that I'll catch a cold and wrap me in a blanket. I used to think his restraint came from being the mafia don, that he was saving our first time for our wedding night. However, one month before the ceremony, he secretly plans the city's grandest fireworks show to celebrate his childhood sweetheart's birthday. They hug and share a slice of cake in public. That night, they check into a hotel. … The next morning, I watch them leave together. That's when I realize Declan is not restrained. He just doesn't love me, so I walk out of the hotel. I call my parents. "Dad, I've broken up with Declan. I'll marry into the Sullivan family as planned." My father is stunned. "I thought you were madly in love with Declan. Why did you break up? I heard Bryson can't have children. You've always loved kids. What will you do once you marry him?" "It's fine," I reply, disheartened. "We can always adopt."

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

When I got home, I received dozens of voice messages from a parent. They had been sent in the group chat with other parents of children in the same kindergarten class as my daughter, Lily. [Ms. Channing, didn't I tell you that my daughter is allergic to furry toys? Why did you allow that boy, Sparky, to give my daughter a hugging bear?] Ms. Channing quickly denied this. No child called Sparky had ever studied in the kindergarten. Another parent was also furious about this. [How can you claim that? My son said Sparky would always force him to play hide-and-seek. If he refuses, Sparky would grab his hair!] I quickly asked Lily what this was about. Lily took out a hugging bear from behind her back and told me about it. [Ms. Channing can't see Sparky. Only smart children can see him. Sparky is a little boy with red eyes. Every child who plays hide-and-seek with Sparky will get a hugging bear.]

After the SATs, my niece’s essay went viral online. It was titled: The Pains of Living in Someone Else’s Home. During her freshman year, my niece, Kristen, had moved in with us. Afraid that she might not settle in well, I made sure she got everything my own daughter, Gabrielle, had. I bought them all the same things. However, ten days after the SATs, Kristen’s essay went viral, and a target was painted on my back. [Why did you abuse me when my parents send you money for my living expenses every month? Why did you make me feel like vermin living in your house?] In the end, because Kristen accidentally revealed our location, I was nearly killed in a car crash perpetrated by a self-righteous netizen. Gabrielle was doxxed and bullied online. In the end, she broke down and committed suicide. Before I died, I went back in time. When I opened my eyes, I found myself back on the day of the SATs. Kristen and Gabrielle were holding hands as they walked out of the school.