"If I were you, I wouldn't have come back. Coming back just means more humiliation."
"This is my home. Or did you forget you're just a cuckoo in someone else's nest?"
Nothing enraged her more than being called a fake heiress. She'd worked too hard, for too many years, to make everyone remember—the Henson family had only one daughter, and it was her.
"So what? In this family, I'll always matter more than you. You're nothing but a spare part."
"Get out. This is my room."
"Ah—!"
Her scream brought all three of them running. They rushed straight to her.
The slap came without warning. I stared at the woman in front of me in disbelief. I hadn't said a single word, and she'd already decided I was guilty. My voice cracked.
"Mom!"
"Don't call me that. I don't have a daughter as vicious as you. You've caused chaos all day. This morning you lied about being kidnapped, but when we checked, you'd been out shopping the whole time. We let it go as one of your tantrums. Now you're bullying Diana again. What will it take to make you stop?"
"I wasn't shopping—"
I turned sharply toward Diana. The smug look on her face told me everything.
"It was you!"
"Still making excuses. Wrong is wrong. When will you ever be as sensible as Diana? I'm so disappointed in you."
"Forget it. Just forget it."
The disappointment in their eyes made it hard to breathe.
"How did you turn out like this?"
Jordan's question made my eyes burn. I stayed silent—but he took that as an admission. That everything was my fault. That I'd done it all on purpose.
"You being my biological sister won't change. But you never should have kept bullying Diana and letting her take the blame for you."
I watched his retreating back and couldn't help asking.
"Did you ever actually believe me?"
"I only believe what I see with my own eyes."
My eyes stung badly. I reached up to wipe away tears, but my face was dry. Only then did I remember—I was already dead. I had no tears left to cry.
They treated Diana so well. So well it made me jealous. Every time we went out together, the same thought would claw at me: Push her down. If she were gone, they'd finally look at me.
It wasn't until after I died that I realized they never loved me at all.
Diana got the Aldridge admission letter so easily, and they couldn't wait to announce it to the world—their most outstanding daughter, their pride and joy.
But that was mine.