"You're trying to make people think we abuse you, aren't you?" She stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "Michelle, I didn't realize your scheming ran this deep."
The barrage of accusations hit me like physical blows.
How did they know Eliana bought me porridge? Did they have someone following me? Was I bugged?
Years ago, to find "evidence" that I was harming Grace, they had installed surveillance cameras in every room of the house. They had even hired a private investigator.
I had naively thought the investigator would prove my innocence. Instead, when he found nothing, my parents accused me of being a master manipulator, claiming I was "hiding deeply."
During that time, I felt like I was living in a glass cage. Watched constantly.
Now, that old fear wrapped around my throat. I began to tremble, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.
Dad noticed. "Michelle, what is wrong with you?"
Mom sneered. "Stop pretending. The trashy things you did are already all over the internet."
*The internet?*
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone. A video of Eliana giving me the porridge and hugging me had gone viral. Passersby had filmed it.
I watched the video on loop. Eliana's arms around me. Her gentle comfort.
In my mind, I contrasted it with the image of Mom and Dad hugging Grace.
Grace was right about one thing: these past few years, I had been like a rat in the gutter, jealous of every scrap of love they gave her.
I looked up, my voice barely a whisper. "Dad, Mom... can you hug me?"
*Before I die, just hug me one last time.*
They exchanged a glance. Their expressions softened, just a fraction.
Mom kept her face stern, though her posture relaxed. "It's good that you finally know when to give in."
"In the future, you need to listen to us and be a good older sister."
She walked toward me and opened her arms.
Before my hand could even graze her, my younger sister, Grace, bolted out of the house.
"Dad! Mom! She was wearing this dress when she pushed me into the road! She tried to get me killed by a car!"
"I don't want to see her! Make her leave! Get her out of here!"
Mom's expression frosted over. She turned on me, voice dripping with venom. "Michelle Fox, apologize to your sister. Now."
Dad didn't wait for me to speak. He shoved me toward Grace.
Grace shrieked, recoiling as if I were a monster. "I don't want her apology!"