I looked at my mother in disbelief as she held the soaked Violet, pointing at me and cursing, "Annie Parrish, how can you be so wicked at such a young age! She's your cousin! You tried to drown her out of jealousy!"

She left with Violet without hesitation. I looked up and saw Violet smirking at me from my mother's arms.

Later, rumors spread that I was jealous and wicked. Neither my father nor mother stopped it. They just scolded me, saying I deserved it, and let me be isolated.

Unnoticed, a light rain began to fall as I knelt on the stone path. I heard soft footsteps and turned to see my father returning.

Seeing me kneeling, he frowned and said, "Upset your mother again? Why can't you be as obedient as Violet?"

I stayed silent. In his eyes, Violet was obedient and gentle, while I was jealous and unruly.

The more I explained, the more he thought I was making excuses and challenging his authority, and the punishment would be harsher. After experiencing it multiple times, I learned to endure silently.

Disappointed in me for not living up to his expectations, he summoned the butler and said, "Watch her. She's cunning! Don't let her up until she's knelt for two hours."

The butler hesitated. "Sir, it's about to rain..."

Father waved dismissively. "A little rain won't kill her! Sometimes I wish she wasn't my daughter!"

I smiled. The little rain will hasten the death of a tuberculosis patient like me.

But the good news for them was that I, the disobedient daughter, would die soon, so they wouldn't be upset by me anymore.

After the heavy rain, I developed a mild fever, just as I had predicted.

The room was filled with the bitter smell of medicine.

I lay in bed coughing lightly. When my mother came to see me and found me pale and weak, she frowned and said, "Why is your health so frail? Just a bit of rain and you get a fever? If it were Violet, she wouldn't be like this…"

I pursed my lips and stayed silent. Maybe because I looked too pitiful, my mother's expression softened slightly. She said, "If you were more obedient, things wouldn't have turned out this way."

I couldn't help but ask, "What do you mean by being more obedient?"

She answered without hesitation, "To be like Violet."

I fell silent. My mother had often lamented more than once that it would be wonderful if Violet were her biological daughter.