Chapter 2
Out in front of the house, my suitcases were strewn all over the ground.
But it was me who got brought inside, while Cassie was left standing right at the door.
Everyone assumed the girl with the wild, tangled hair was me—Skye.
I couldn't help but feel a wicked thrill watching it all unfold.
Cassie tried to step inside the house, but the bodyguards blocked her way.
"Miss Skye Blevins, Mr. and Mrs. Blevins said you should take the hint and leave the country," one of the bodyguards said.
Seeing this, it dragged up every miserable memory from my mind.
When Mom had Cassie and me, I was born first.
But just because I was born first didn't mean I got to be the older sister.
According to Mom and Dad, I hogged all the nutrients in the womb, then rushed to be born, leaving Cassie sickly ever since.
So, to "make it fair," they made Cassie the older sister instead.
Mom and Dad showered all their attention on Cassie.
And me? At first, it was like I didn't even exist.
When I was five, Cassie and I both caught the flu. We both had scorching fevers.
Mom and Dad scooped her up and raced her to the hospital.
I followed behind, my throat raw, calling out, "Dad, Mom, My forehead is burning too..."
But all I saw was Cassie curled up in Dad's arms, giving me a pale, triumphant grin.
That time, I had to fight off the flu on my own.
Later, whenever I brought it up, Mom and Dad got all impatient with me.
They said, "Come on, didn't you get better by yourself? You've always been healthy—how could a little flu do you in?
"Can't you just try to be more sensible? Cassie's always been the sickly one, and yet you keep picking at her.
"Seriously, so much jealousy already at your age—what are we supposed to do with you when you get older?"
Cassie clung to Mom, tears brimming in her eyes as she put on her best pitiful look. "Dad, Mom, this is all my fault. Skye must think I did it on purpose—like I was trying to take you away from her.
She turned to me and said, "I'm sorry, Skye. I just can't help being so sickly all the time."
Cassie said to our parents, "Please don't take it out on Skye because of me. I'll try to toughen up, I promise. Next time I get sick, I won't make it such a huge deal."
As she spoke, she let out a cough and sob, making Mom and Dad fuss over her right away.
Mum said, "Don't worry, sweet Cassie, none of this is your fault. You were born delicate—you need us to keep you safe."
"Poor little Cassie, always so thoughtful, even when you're feeling awful. Unlike Skye, who thinks being the younger kid means she can get away with anything," Dad said.
As for my grief and tears? It was like they didn't even exist.
After that, Cassie repeatedly lied and acted innocent.
She dragged my name through the mud in front of Mom and Dad so many times, I lost track.
With every stunt she pulled, Mom and Dad grew to hate me more and more.
Even when Cassie started getting healthier, they were still insanely biased.
No matter what kind of fight we had, they were always team Cassie, no matter what.
Since elementary school, Cassie had everyone turn against me and bully me.
When I was ten, Cassie forced me to drink a strange-tasting beverage. From that day on, it robbed me of my voice.
I'd never forget lying helpless in the hospital bed, my throat burning with pain.
No matter how hard I tried to speak, I couldn't form a single word.
I wrote out the truth for Mom and Dad, but instead of believing me, they slapped me.
Mom yelled, "You're really pulling every trick in the book to play us for fools, aren't you?
"Cassie told us everything—you were the one gobbling up weird stuff at school and messing up your own throat.
"She even went out of her way to get you medicine from the nurse's office. And what do you do? You start talking trash about her when you're home."
Dad said, "You're so evil, Skye. We raised you and Cassie exactly the same way.
"Cassie's so popular, but just look at what you've become.
"You're such a disappointment."
That was the moment I stopped trying to fight for myself. I just gave up completely.
For more than twenty years, all they had for me was pure loathing.
As for me, I'd long since given up on the idea of family love.
Now, it was Cassie's turn to feel what I'd been through.
If I hadn't cut a deal with the system, I'd be the one out on my ass right now.
At the front door, Cassie glared furiously, her eyes wide and face twisted with rage.
She waved her arms wildly, smacking at the bodyguards in a desperate attempt to get past them.
She made guttural sounds, trying to drive them away.
Even being mute, her cocky attitude was so overpowering it was like she was shouting insults in everyone's ears.
I never learned sign language. I was broke, and honestly, nobody ever gave a damn about what I wanted to say.
Of course Cassie didn't know it either.
Because of that, no one noticed anything weird about Cassie's behavior right now.
To them, she was just getting increasingly annoying.
In the living room, Mom held my hand, chatting warmly with me.
Dad leaned back in the sofa, sipping his coffee with a look of total relaxation.
I gave Cassie that look—the same one she'd always thrown at me back in the day—mocking and scornful.
Cassie froze there for ages, looking completely defeated. Eventually, her arms hung lifeless at her sides as she started picking up each piece of clothing off the ground.
There were barely any—just a handful of old clothes she didn't want anymore.
Whenever she was done with them, she'd throw them my way like I was her personal charity case.