Only my best friend squeezed my hand, eyes glistening. "Bestie, I love you!"

Kian's face turned a dangerous shade of blue. His voice dropped, shaking with anger.

"You—you dared to insult me?!"

"So what if I did?" I shot back. "I'm not done—I'll insult her too!"

I planted my hands on my hips and turned to glare at Trisha. "And you—stop pretending you're some precious gem. Even a trash bag couldn't contain all that fake sincerity you're spilling."

"Didn't you say you were too unwell to get out of bed? Funny—when you were about to hang yourself just now, you looked full of energy!"

"Let me guess—the ‘sickness' came the moment Carmela came home? You just couldn't stand not being the only little princess anymore, right?"

My words hit her squarely in the heart. She tried to argue, but I cut her off mercilessly.

"Fake sickness, fake suicide, fake tears—what's next? You think my best friend asked you to ‘repent'? You're both daughters of this family, so why are you the only one acting like you've got brain damage?"

Her face turned pale as paper. "Y-you—you—"

I laughed coldly. "You what, you? Why are you stuttering? Go see a doctor, and if your brain's malfunctioning, try reading a book!"

Unable to fight back, she reverted to her favorite act—the helpless, delicate flower routine.

"Carmela, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to. I was just scared you'd hate me."

Then she looked at me pitifully. "Yanna, if you want to scold someone, scold me. Just don't take it out on my brother and parents."

There it was again. Same act, zero creativity.

I was too lazy to keep sparring with her, so I turned to the stunned Lambert couple. "I heard we'll be in the same class as our dear sister?"

They both nodded quickly.

"Perfect," I smiled. "We'll be sure to take good care of her. By the way, which room will be ours?"

Aunt Laura hurried to lead us upstairs.

Trisha followed, red-eyed and trembling, putting on another generous act as she opened a pink, frilly room.

"Sister, if you don't mind... you can have this one. It's actually yours to begin with..."

Before we could respond, Kian rushed forward again, blocking the doorway like a guard dog.

"This is Mom's gift to my sister! Country bumpkins like you don't deserve a princess room!"

I could feel my temper spike again, but Aunt Laura caught my glare and quickly intervened, frowning at her son.