Chapter 3
The next morning, Felicity and my parents’ joyful laughter drifted from the dining room. I quietly walked downstairs and saw Felicity sitting in my seat, using my favorite tableware. When they saw me, the previously harmonious atmosphere suddenly shattered, as if I were the outsider who had intruded on their family. A flicker of awkwardness crossed Mom’s face. “Chloe, why are you up so early today? Felicity doesn’t have her own tableware yet, so she’s using yours. Can you use Liam’s set, please?” “No, thanks. I don’t like taking other people’s things.” The moment those words left my mouth, everyone understood I was mocking Felicity. Dad seemed to still be upset about me “bullying” Felicity yesterday; his usually kind expression turned incredibly sour. I glanced at the milk, sandwich, and bacon and eggs on the table—all things Felicity liked to eat. I was lactose intolerant and usually had porridge for breakfast. “Oh dear, I forgot! You can’t drink milk. I’ll make you some soy milk in a bit,” Mom quickly interjected, trying to smooth things over, desperate to hide the fact that she paid more attention to her adopted daughter than to me. Slam! Dad slammed his cup on the table, scolding me with displeasure in his voice. “Why so particular? You spoil her too much! At such a young age, you’ve indulged her into being so wild! We need to take Felicity to transfer schools, no time to waste!” The old me would have been heartbroken by those words, throwing a tantrum without a second thought. But now, my heart was numb. I silently sat at a corner of the table, watching Felicity, who was eating with her head down, a hint of a triumphant smile playing on her lips. But when she looked up again, her small face was filled with sorrow. “Dad, don’t talk about my sister like that. My sister isn’t like me; she was pampered with love since she was little, so it’s natural for her to be a bit willful. It just shows how much you love her.” My overly compassionate parents were once again moved to tears. How could there be such an angelic little girl in the world? In comparison, I, who had everything since childhood yet was so headstrong, seemed utterly insensitive. The disappointment in their eyes when they looked at me deepened. But I didn’t care. In my previous life, I had practically cut ties with my parents, and I no longer cared what they thought of me. I could have easily charmed Felicity, acting as a brainless, easily controlled younger sister. Then I would still be my parents’ good daughter, picking up whatever scraps of affection they left over from Felicity. But I would make Felicity understand that the family love and affection she so painstakingly gained were worthless in my eyes.