My sister. She didn't lift a finger to stop it. She just let everything crash and burn.
Not this time.
Not with me in the picture.
This version of our family only grew stronger, tighter, happier.
One night, Dad looked at Lance and me and smiled so wide it softened every line on his face.
"With you two in the Gardner family, I can finally relax."
I clung to Lance's arm, pouting dramatically. "I just want my big brother to spoil me forever. I'll always be his little princess!"
The look in his eyes when I said that? It was fiercely tender all at once. That moment ignited a fire in him. From then on, he pushed himself harder, took on more responsibility, and quietly built up his strength as if preparing for war, because he had a promise to keep.
He swore he'd protect me for life.
Then came the headlines.
I started noticing Freya appearing in entertainment news, receiving praise and admiration. The media called her the rising goddess of the screen. Vivian named her Freya Lennox, which was nothing surprising, and the press couldn't stop praising her looks and potential.
And then, finally, I saw her again in person.
It was at my eighteenth birthday party.
She walked in with Vivian at her side, wearing a designer gown, with her hair and makeup flawless. She had all the right moves—the grace, the poise, the smile—but her eyes were empty and devoid of life.
Still, when Freya spotted me stepping out in a simple, elegant dress, her whole demeanor changed. Her spine straightened, her chin lifted, and she strutted over like she'd just claimed victory on a battlefield.
"Pearl," she sneered, her voice full of fake sweetness, "looks like you've been living a pretty pathetic life these last few years, huh? I heard the Gardners don't even care about you anymore. Everyone says all their attention is on that freak, Lance. And you? You're just some worthless reject they keep around out of pity."
I was about to respond, but before I could open my mouth, a cold voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Who are you calling a freak?"
Freya's smug expression vanished.
She turned and froze, face draining of color.
And I knew exactly why.
Because Lance was standing behind me, tall, terrifying, and completely unamused.
The same Lance who, in our past life, had dismantled her piece by piece. The one who broke her body, crushed her spirit, and left her in a wheelchair.
She never recovered from that.