28th Runaway, I Let Her Go.

It was New Year’s Eve, and the whole family was outside setting off fireworks. The trouble started with a single, simple act: I handed a sparkler to Gina, my younger daughter, just because she was standing closer to me. That was all it took for Aria, my older daughter, to snap every remaining sparkler in the box. She pointed a trembling finger at Gina and screamed, “Go on, play with it! You always have to have everything! Why don’t you just drop dead?” Then the tears came, a wrenching, theatrical sob as she turned on my husband and me. “Why didn’t you give it to me first? Why are you always so unfair? I don’t want you as my parents anymore!” Before we could react, she bolted, running out of the yard and into the night. We couldn’t catch her. We called the police, then spent three agonizing days and nights driving through every street, searching for her. When we finally found her at the police station, she was putting on another show, wailing that she refused to come home with us. “I don’t want parents who play favorites! I’m not going back!” I looked at her, my voice eerily calm. “Aria, are you sure about that?” Her crying hitched for a second. “Because if you don’t want us anymore,” I continued, “then we… don’t want you either.”

1 Aria froze. Then, the crying erupted again, louder and more desperate than before. A young policewoman rushed over to mediate. “Ma’am, she’s just a child. Don’t be so hard on her.” I wasn’t being hard on her. I was just tired. So incredibly tired. By my count, this was the twenty-eighth time Aria had run away from home. It was always over something trivial, some perceived slight that no one else would even notice. If I served Gina a slightly larger portion of casserole at dinner, Aria would throw a fit. She would meticulously pick apart her food, counting every single piece of scrambled egg on her plate. If Gina accidentally got one more, it was a catastrophe. She’d snatch her sister’s plate and scrape the entire meal into the trash. “If you’re going to be unfair,” she’d snarl, “then nobody gets to eat!” To keep the peace, we actually bought a food scale. Every meal was portioned out to the gram, a ridiculous ritual to prove our impartiality. It wasn’t just food. It was everything. Clothes, shoes, toys… Aria always had to have the first pick. If she didn’t get what she wanted, she’d run. We couldn’t discipline her. We couldn’t even scold her. A single sharp word and she’d have one leg over the windowsill, threatening to jump. My husband, David, and I tried talking to her, reasoning with her, but it always devolved into hysterical screaming about how we favored her sister. Then she’d run outside without her shoes, telling anyone who would listen that we didn’t want her anymore now that we had a second child, that we were so cruel we wouldn’t even give her shoes. We could never explain. All we could do was endure the whispers and the judgment, and gently coax her back home. But this time, the twenty-eighth time, was different. I felt a profound, bone-deep exhaustion. Her screams were like a bomb that had finally obliterated the last of my patience. David, however, still had some left. He sighed, kneeling in front of Aria, his voice soft and placating. “Sweetheart, it’s all our fault. Please, just come home with us.” At the sight of her father’s surrender, a flicker of triumph crossed her face. I knew that look. It was the look she got when she knew she had us wrapped around her finger. And now, the demands would begin. “Fine, I’ll come back,” she said, sniffing. “But you have to agree to a few things.” “Anything,” David said instantly. “You name it, we’ll get it for you.” “I want that new laptop we saw, and the new Nintendo Switch from the mall. You have to buy them for me.” “And,” she paused, her lower lip jutting out, “you have to send Gina to live with Grandma. I don’t want to live with her anymore. I hate her!” “…Aria, honey, Gina is your sister. You can’t just send her away.” The moment she was denied, Aria shoved David away. “She is not my sister! Did you even ask for my permission before you had her?” She was winding up for another tantrum. David, flustered and desperate, shot me a helpless look. What do we do? he mouthed. I took a deep breath, pulled him up from the floor, and faced our daughter. “Aria, you’re twelve years old. You’re not a little kid anymore.” My voice was steady, devoid of the emotion she fed on. “You and Gina are both our daughters. We are not sending Gina away. No matter how much you scream or cry, it is not going to happen. So, are you coming home with us or not? If not, we’re leaving.” With that, I grabbed David’s arm and walked toward the door.

2 One step. Two steps. Three. We were almost at the precinct door when Aria’s voice cut through the air. “Fine! Don’t send her away!” she yelled. “But you’re taking me to buy the laptop and the Switch. Right now!” She ordered us around as if we owed her, her tone dripping with entitlement. But in the end, we gave in. We took her to the mall and bought her everything she wanted. By the time we finally got home, it was late. Gina heard the door open and came pattering down the stairs. The moment she saw Aria, she shrank back, her voice a small, timid whisper. “Hi, Aria.” Aria didn’t even glance at her. “Who said you could call me that? Get away from me.” “Don’t talk to your sister like that,” I warned. “You two are family, not enemies.” Aria shot me a look of pure contempt. “I never asked for a sister. She’s a little freeloader you and Dad made because you got horny and couldn’t be bothered to use a condom. What’s that got to do with me?” “Aria!” David’s voice was sharp with shock. “Where did you learn to talk like that?” He sighed, rubbing his temples in exhaustion. “We’re a family, Aria. Can’t you please stop talking like we’re at war?” Aria just sneered. “It’s your fault for playing favorites. If you can’t treat two kids equally, why have them in the first place?” In that moment, I was so tired I could barely breathe. “Aria,” I said, my voice low. “Do you really want to know why we have two children in this house? I’ll tell you right now—” “Sarah, don’t!” The words died in my throat as David grabbed my arm, his grip tight. He was always the patient one, the peacemaker. “Aria, Gina,” he said, trying to smooth things over. “Let’s just put this behind us. Can you two please try to get along from now on? Mom and I swear, we will love you both exactly the same. No favorites.” Gina nodded immediately, her eyes wide and earnest. “I promise, Daddy.” Aria let out a derisive snort. “Yeah, right. She’s the baby. You’ll always take her side.” I fought back a wave of irritation. “Then what do you want us to do, Aria?” She shot a venomous glare at Gina. “I already told you. Send her to Grandma’s house! I want you to love only me!” My voice rose despite myself. “Aria, I just told you, that is not going to happen!” A sly, calculating look crossed her face. She folded her arms. “Oh, it’s not? Then I’ll just go on a hunger strike.” She looked so sure of herself, so utterly convinced that we would fold, just like always. Without another word, she spun around and stomped up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door with a deafening bang that shook the whole house. Gina flinched, her small body trembling. After a moment, she hesitantly reached for my hand. “Mommy,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears, “I don’t want to go to Grandma’s. And I don’t want Aria to starve…” The sight of her tears made my heart ache. I knelt and gently wiped them away. “Gina, honey, this is not your fault. And don’t worry, Mom and Dad will never, ever send you away.” “…But what about Aria?” I sighed, a cold weariness settling over me. We had coddled her for too long. “This time,” I said, my voice hard, “no one is going to give in to her.”

3 On the first day of Aria’s hunger strike, David couldn’t hold out. He snuck upstairs with a plate of her favorite food: sweet and sour ribs and fried chicken. Aria didn’t even look up. She simply swiped the plate off his hands, sending it crashing to the floor. “I don’t need your fake kindness! Get out!” The moment I heard the crash, I stormed into the room and pulled David out. “She’s not eating? Then let her starve,” I told him firmly. “From now on, we are not going to interfere. Aria’s behavior is getting more and more extreme. If we keep giving in, she’s going to do something truly terrible one day. This time, you will not indulge her. Do you understand me?” David looked torn, but after a long, hard look from me, he finally nodded. On the second day, we didn’t bring her any food. Realizing we were serious, she started making a racket upstairs. We heard the distinct sound of glass shattering. In the past, I would have run up, terrified she had hurt herself. This time, I steeled myself and ignored it. “Don’t look up,” I told Gina and David at the dinner table. “Just keep eating.” Sure enough, late that night, after we had all gone to our rooms, I heard faint footsteps creaking on the stairs. Aria, driven by hunger, was sneaking down to the kitchen. She quietly opened the fridge, grabbed a bag of bread, and started stuffing it into her mouth like a starved animal. I had been waiting. I walked out of my bedroom and flipped on the kitchen light. She jumped, dropping the bread on the floor. Caught in the act, her bravado vanished, replaced by a flush of embarrassment. I sighed. Seeing how thin she looked already, a pang of pity shot through me. I went to the microwave and pulled out the plate of food I had saved for her. “Can we please stop this?” I said softly. “Just eat.” This time, she didn’t fight. She sat down and cleaned the plate. I reached out and stroked her hair. “Aria, I promise you, I love you so, so much. Even with a sister, that love hasn’t changed. Deep down, you know that, don’t you?” My voice was pleading. “So please, can you stop all this? I’m begging you.” Aria swallowed the last piece of rib, set down her fork, and walked back to her room without a word. The next morning, the hunger strike was over. She came downstairs and ate breakfast with us. I carefully divided the food, using the scale to ensure her portion was identical to Gina’s down to the last gram. The meal was silent. Then, Gina spoke up, her voice small. “Aria… do you want to walk home from school together today?” Aria was quiet for a long moment. Then, looking down at her plate, she mumbled, “Okay.” A huge wave of relief washed over me. I thought, finally, we had turned a corner. I had no idea the real nightmare was just beginning.

4 David and I went to our respective offices. The moment I walked into mine, I felt a chill crawl up my spine. It felt like dozens of eyes were on me, but whenever I turned to look, they would dart away. It wasn’t just the stares. It was the whispers, quiet as buzzing mosquitoes, that stopped the moment I got near. Holding my breath, I strained to listen. They were talking about me. “…I can’t believe it. Sarah seems so normal, but she’s abusing her own daughter at home…” “I heard she favors the younger one and starves the older one. The poor girl went two whole days without food. It’s monstrous!” “If you can’t love both your kids equally, you shouldn’t have a second one. That poor child is so unlucky to have her for a mother.” My heart hammered against my ribs. I felt dizzy. When did I ever starve Aria? And how did they know what was happening in my house? I pulled aside Kate, a colleague I was friendly with, and asked her what was going on. She looked uncomfortable but finally mumbled, “Sarah, I’ll send you something on your phone. Just… take a look.” I fumbled with my phone, my hands shaking. It was a video. And the little girl in it… was Aria. She had secretly live-streamed from her bedroom the night before. Kate had sent me a recording. In the video, Aria’s hair was a mess, and she was wearing an old pair of pajamas she’d outgrown two years ago. The small, worn-out clothes made her look even more pitiful and neglected. She looked into the camera, her eyes brimming with tears. “Hi everyone,” she whispered weakly. “My mom hasn’t let me eat for two days. Right now, she and my dad and my sister are downstairs eating ribs and fried chicken. I’m so hungry… I barely have the strength to talk…” “Ever since they had my sister, they don’t love me anymore,” she sobbed. “They want to send me to my grandma’s house in the country, pull me out of school, and make me work in a factory in a few years… then marry me off to some man to save up for my sister’s future!” Her crying intensified. She held up our family photo, making sure the viewers got a good look at the faces of her “evil” parents. The comments in the chat were flying by, a torrent of outrage. 【PARENTS LIKE THAT SHOULD BURN IN HELL. UNFAIR PARENTS ARE THE WORST!】 【How could anyone be cruel to such a sweet little girl? This is heartbreaking.】 【Sweetie, you should cut ties with them. We’ll adopt you!】 Watching the video, the world went dark around me. With the last ounce of my composure, I memorized the username and ID from the video. I immediately searched for it on the social media platform. When I saw the account’s main page, my blood ran cold. It was a secret account Aria had been running for months. Post after post detailed how her parents favored her little sister. The comments were filled with sympathy for this poor, unloved girl. Several users had even offered to adopt her. My finger trembled as I scrolled up. The latest post was about the hunger strike. She had twisted the story, turning her self-imposed strike into us deliberately starving her. She painted herself as a tragic victim. At the end of the post, she had asked her followers a question: 【What should I do about my parents who play favorites?】 The top-liked comment read: 【Why don’t you just make your sister disappear?】 Aria had replied: 【How do I do that?】 The user responded: 【Push her down the stairs, poison her food… there are plenty of ways.】 Some of the replies under that comment told the user not to give a child such horrible ideas. But others agreed. 【With parents that biased, the sister is probably a spoiled brat who bullies her. I say teach her a lesson!】 I kept scrolling down, my heart pounding in my throat. And then I saw it. A reply from Aria, posted just ten minutes ago. 【Okay then, I’ll give it a try!】 A cold dread washed over me. I glanced at the clock. School was already out. And this morning, Gina had asked Aria to walk home with her… My heart leaped into my throat. Work was forgotten. I called David, who was still at his office. “Something’s wrong. Get home now!”