Chapter 2

"Tammy, how could you be so selfish?" Mom said. "Did you forget what I told you?"

Out of instinctive fear of my parents, I replied, "No, I didn't forget."

"Then repeat it." Mom shot me a cold look.

I clutched the hem of my shirt and stammered, "S-Sandra is the one and only princess in this family. We all have to let her have her way."

Mom didn't say another word. She just looked at me without a trace of warmth in her eyes.

I bit my lip, placed my toy on the ground, and hung my head low.

"I'm sorry, Sandra. You can have all my toys," I whispered.

As I walked back to my room, Mom's gentle voice drifted over from behind me.

"Sandra, don't worry. No one in this world will ever dare to bully you," she said. "You're Mommy's little princess, my one and only."

*****

After that, I learned my lesson and started keeping my distance from Sandra.

But she set her sights on the hairpin I was wearing.

It was a birthday present from Dad.

I was still debating whether to take it off myself, but before I could do anything, Sandra yanked it right off my head.

"I like it. It's mine now," she announced.

Her nails scratched my cheek, leaving a stinging cut that made me wail out loud.

I jumped off the couch and threw myself into Mom's arms.

"Mommy, it hurts! Sandra took my hairpin and scratched me," I sobbed, tears streaming down my face.

But Mom pushed me aside and worriedly looked over Sandra's hand.

"Sandra, are you okay? Did you get hurt?" Mom asked, fussing over her.

Sandra shook her head, sniffling softly. "Mommy, I didn't mean to do it. Tammy wouldn't let me see the hairpin, and she kept squirming."

Mom wiped Sandra's tears away, her voice soft and caring. "I know, honey. You're always such a good girl."

I stood there, my face covered in tears, at a loss.

"Tammy, you're just a kid. How can you bully your older sister?" Mom yelled.

She grabbed my arm and shook me hard. "Why are you so petty? You really think I can't tell when you're trying to get her in trouble? I'm so disappointed in you."

Mom left, carrying Sandra with her.

I stood there, tears streaking down my face and blood trickling from the scratch on my cheek.

I stayed like that until the sun dipped below the horizon and dusk settled over the sky.

Only when the last bit of light disappeared from the sky did I finally drag my stiff legs back to my room.

There was no way I could hide my injury from my family.

Dad hugged me tight, and I could feel how shaky his breathing was.

I reached up and gave his shoulder a gentle pat.

"I'm fine, Dad. It doesn't hurt anymore," I whispered, trying to comfort him.

Grandma and Grandpa dropped everything and came running from back home.

As soon as they stepped through the door, Grandma hugged me tight, tears streaming down her face.

"Oh, my poor Tammy. Does it hurt? Will it leave a scar?" she asked, her voice shaking with concern.

After all these years, I instinctively tried to wriggle out of Grandma's arms.

"Grandma, Sandra should get a hug first," I mumbled.

Hearing that, Grandma sobbed even louder. "Look at what has been done to my precious granddaughter!"

Grandpa stood off to the side, silent, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

That day, a full-blown war broke out at home.

Dad pointed at Mom, his face flushed with anger. "Venessa, you're so biased. Sure, Sandra's your daughter, but isn't Tammy your daughter too?

"You keep telling us to treat them equally, but do you? Are you ever fair to Tammy?"

Mom wasn't about to back down. She slapped Dad's finger away, hands on her hips, her voice so loud it was almost deafening.

She yelled, "Raul, what right do you have to call me out? Before we got married, you promised repeatedly you'd treat Sandra like your own daughter. What happened?

"Ever since Tammy was born, you can't take your eyes off her. Sandra begged you for hugs again and again, but you just held onto Tammy and wouldn't let go. You can't stand Sandra, admit it! You're a liar, a selfish scumbag."

Dad was so pissed. He scoffed, "Have you lost your damn mind? Tammy was just a baby back then. If I didn't hold her, who else was supposed to? You?

"Tell me, how many times have you actually hugged Tammy since she was born?"

The nanny once told me that after I was born, Mom went out of her way not to hold me, just so Sandra wouldn't get jealous.

Dad felt bad for me, but he didn't want to upset Mom, so he'd sneak in a hug whenever no one was watching.

But there were plenty of times when Sandra walked in and caught us.

She'd push and shove me away, trying to get Dad to let go of me, but he'd just hug me even tighter, scared I'd get hurt.

Mom would lose it every time.

Dad had to keep apologizing just to get her to calm down.

When Dad brought up the past, Mom couldn't help but look away, a guilty look flashing in her eyes.