Ford Family Tree

To cheer up their depressed adopted daughter, Ashley Reid, my parents don't dare to treat me nicely. They've even locked me in a pitch-black room more than 700 times, just to put a smile on her face. At first, they feel guilty toward me. But eventually, even my older brother, Liam Reid, who used to care for me the most, treats it like it's all perfectly reasonable. When Ashley's depression finally starts to ease, I work up the courage to kneel and beg them to seal off that room for good. But at her birthday party, simply because I'm wearing the only T-shirt I own, she starts tearing up and asks my parents if I don't like her. My parents and Liam rush to comfort her and, yet again, lock me away in that dark, endless room. "Summer, you're her elder sister. You have to be more considerate of her feelings." "If you hadn't insisted on wearing something so tacky for her birthday party, she wouldn't have gotten so upset." "You've gotten used to it after all these years, right? One more time won't matter to you." I curl up in the corner, gripping my hair, unable to say a word. Three days later, they finally let me out. They remind me not to upset Ashley again. But I just stare at them blankly. "Sorry, who are you?"

I'm my brother's walking blood bank. Mom and Dad keep forcing me to go for blood transfusions to the point that I don't even weigh 80 pounds. Later, my brother's kidney fails. Mom and Dad want to gouge mine out to be transplanted into his body. At the peak of my despair, the thief who sneaks in from the ventilation hood secretly carries me out and helps me escape. He says, "I'm here for you. Don't be scared."

My mother was the Chosen Luna—the one who once conquered three powerful Alphas. When her mission was done, she vanished from this world, leaving behind only me, and the three Alphas who had once loved her with everything they had. My first father, Alpha Jeff Tanners, ruled the Silver Moon Pack—rich enough to buy half the continent. My second father, Alpha Kael Grey, commanded all the warriors of the Northern Alliance. My third father, Alpha Bran Theron, held every medical resource wolves and humans depended on. For eighteen years, I was their cherished little princess. Whatever I wanted, they gave—no questions, no hesitation. Until they brought home that girl—a fragile orphan named Arie Ryker. From that day on, everything changed. She told them I called her a filthy stray, unworthy of our pack. She said I led the young wolves at school to bully her. She said I tampered with her performance costume, that I caused her allergy, that I made her faint on stage. And they believed her. They stopped believing me. The ninety-ninth time they chose her over me, when they shouted, "Don't come back again!", I didn't argue. I just picked up my luggage and left. They thought I'd come running home like before—that my disappearance was just another way to make them see me. But when they found out I had left the pack for good, that my identity had been erased, that I could no longer be found, the three mighty Alphas finally broke.

The day I died was the same day as my twin sister’s birthday party. She was in tears and was wrapped up in my boyfriend’s arms. My mom was seething with anger and kept calling me over and over again. My brother was clearly upset and sent me a text saying, "You’re so selfish. You just can’t stand to see anyone else happy." Even my usually quiet dad was furious and said, "She’s nothing but an ungrateful brat." I touched my chest. Thankfully, it did not hurt anymore.

My ex-fiancé made me do a blood test the night before our wedding. The next day, he threw the genetic report on my face and dumped me over defective genes. The reason was that the Zimmer family only wanted perfect heirs, and he said that I was not worthy. He broke off the engagement, and instantly married the girl-next-door with perfect genes. Five years later, he reappeared in the hospital, clutching his ill son. He saw my daughter who had similar rashes, and he thought I had given birth to his daughter in secrecy. Little did he know that my daughter had nothing to do with him and only had a mild seafood allergy. I would not be defined by the so-called defective genes again, while me and my daughter live happily and healthily, it was their turn to be destroyed.

Lyra Mae Miracle considers her life perfect just as it is. Amazing friends, decent enough grades, the best family, and an annoying brother with his equally annoying friends. But when the past that she's worked so hard to forget comes back to bite her, she learns that her life is far from perfect. With a downhill spiral of her life, she finally learns to accept help from those who want to. She blocked people out because of her past, even if it was unconsciously. But she can't let the past take control of the present. So she's going to end everything. Set the line, and accept reality. All to obtain what she would most definitely consider, a perfect life. But nobody and nothing is perfect, and imperfections is what makes perfection. Perfectly imperfect.

The first thing the fake heiress did when she saw me was imitate me. I loved fishtail dresses. Hence, she immediately bought all the fishtail dresses in the city. I loved roses. Thus, she made the entire rose garden hers. I thought she was only jealous that my family had brought me home. Unexpectedly, my elder brother mistook her for me when he saw her from the back when she was wearing a fishtail dress. He gave me forty-nine lashes as punishment that night. She was carrying roses in her arms when my father saw her cheek and mistook her for me. Then, my father immediately drove me out of the house. Before I could investigate the matter, I died of acute renal failure. After my death, I saw her marry my fiance with my family’s blessing. She made a remark on the night of her wedding. “System, I’ve got to thank you for letting me change people’s memories. As long as others mistake me for her, I can casually change their memories.” Enlightenment gripped me, but it was too late. It did not occur to me that I would return to the moment when she had just purchased the fishtail dresses.

My physics teacher held up my test paper with an 18-point score in front of all the students and parents and said, “Students like this are hopeless. I don’t even know how someone like this passed the high school entrance exam. “I didn’t think there was a way to cheat on the high school entrance exam, but it turns out there is. It gives people like this a chance to cheat.” He did not just insult my intelligence but also questioned my character and family. “Well, it’s not surprising. Only a junk-collecting family could raise a kid like this.” I curled up in my seat, too scared to say anything. But my stepmom could not stand it anymore. She smacked the chalk box off his desk, pointed at him, and yelled, “Who do you think you’re talking about?! “I send my kid to school and pay all the tuition and book fees! How did it turn into us being a junk-collecting family?! “You can’t even teach properly, and I haven’t called you out for it! Have you no shame?! You don’t deserve to be called a teacher! You’re just a piece of trash!” For some reason, she suddenly seemed imposing and heroic to me.

In the fifth year of my spiritual practice, my phone suddenly exploded with messages. [Aria, why aren't you replying? Are you really that petty?] Puzzled, I opened Messenger, and froze. My cousin, who never seemed to measure up to me and always went out of her way to oppose me, was getting married, and she expected me to attend. "Sorry, I've been busy lately. I won't be able to make it," I replied politely. However, my courteous response only fueled their ridicule. "Stop pretending! You haven't kept in touch with your family for years. Are you too embarrassed because your life is such a mess?" "She won't even come to her own cousin's wedding? How heartless!" "Let me guess, the real reason she can't come is she can't afford a wedding gift." One cutting remark after another appeared, until Betty Stewart stepped in, feigning concern. "Come on, don't be so harsh on Aria. We're family, after all." "If she's really struggling, I could ask my husband to help her get a cleaning job." Then she sent me the digital invitation, the gold lettering gleaming. When I saw the groom's name, my pupils constricted in shock. Joseph Clark? Wasn't he the short-lived husband who had spent three years sucking up to me just to extend his life?

After three years of living with my wife’s family, everyone thought they could treat me like a pushover. Me? I’m just waiting for her to hold my hand before I can give her the world.