Chapter 2

I drew my foot back and slipped quietly up to the third floor.

Ayleen didn't treat me the way my brothers did.

She'd sometimes smile at me, and now and then, she'd call me "Nyomi."

But her smile was always so faint, like she was being polite to someone who didn't really belong in the family.

She'd been treated like a princess by our three brothers since she was little, so it was only natural that she thought everyone should revolve around her.

I didn't blame her. She didn't really know what happened.

Or maybe the story she heard was different from mine.

In her version of the story, she was the little lucky charm Mom risked her life to bring into the world.

From the day she was born, the family business started thriving.

"Ayleen is our family's lucky charm," Michael once said at a family dinner.

Everyone was smiling, all eyes on Ayleen.

I sat at the very end of the table. My plate was filled with nothing but mashed potatoes and a tiny piece of pickle.

No one glanced my way.

With my head down, I couldn't help thinking, 'But Mom died when she brought Ayleen into this world.'

I never said it out loud.

Even if I did, no one would change their mind.

And so, I stayed silent, growing up in the shadows until I turned eighteen.

It was my birthday today. But no one remembered.

I sat up on the fold-out bed in the storage room, slipped on my slippers, and shuffled down the hallway to the bathroom at the end.

Only this bathroom had a mirror big enough to show my whole body.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was sallow, my cheekbones stood out, and my hair was as dry and brittle as straw.

No one would ever believe I was the heiress of the Bolton family.

Then, like I always did, I looked down at my palm.

I saw a line of blood-red numbers slowly begin to surface.

The date was today's date.

I stared at those numbers for what felt like ages, not feeling afraid or sad.

Instead, I felt a relief I couldn't quite put into words.

Finally, my time had come.

I grabbed the cleanest clothes I could find in the storage room and slipped them on. As I headed downstairs, I passed by the second-floor hallway.

Laughter came from the kitchen.

It was Olive, the maid, talking with another staff member. "I started making Ms. Ayleen Bolton's pudding early today. She doesn't like it too sweet, so I only added two spoons of sugar."

"Was that Mr. Daniel Bolton's idea?" the other staff member asked.

"Mr. Daniel Bolton texted me himself, and he specifically said to use that pink plate for the pudding."

I stood at the kitchen doorway, not stepping inside.

Olive turned and spotted me, her smile freezing for a second. "Oh, Ms. Nyomi Bolton, what brings you downstairs?"

She always hesitated before calling me "Ms. Nyomi Bolton," like she was never quite comfortable saying it.

"I want something to eat," I said.

Olive hesitated, looking a little uncomfortable. "Breakfast was prepared for Ms. Ayleen Bolton. Everything was portioned out exactly."

"Is there any food in the fridge?"

"I threw out yesterday's leftovers. The fridge was cleaned out." She didn't glance at me, her hands still busy plating the food.

I saw the counter neatly set with fried eggs, a cup of juice, a fruit platter, and a small plate of freshly toasted bread.

Every bit of it was for Ayleen alone.

"Are there any breads in the kitchen?" I asked.

Olive pointed over to the corner. "There are two in the basket. They were actually set aside for the staff's meal."

I walked to the basket. The bread looked dry and hard.

I picked one up and took a bite. It tasted like cardboard.

Olive said quietly behind me, "Ms. Nyomi Bolton, if you want something to eat, you could've told me earlier."

It sounded caring, but her tone made it obvious it was the kind of empty courtesy a maid was supposed to offer.

I guessed that even if I had told her in advance, she wouldn't have made anything for me anyway.

Chewing on the bread, I headed upstairs and bumped into Ayleen coming down on the second floor.

She was in her school uniform, her hair perfectly tied up, and a fluffy little charm hanging from her backpack.

Ayleen hesitated for a second when she saw me, and then flashed a polite smile. "Good morning, Nyomi."

"Morning," I answered.

Her gaze lingered on the bread in my hand, her smile fading for a second before she quickly put it back on. "Nyomi, why are you eating that? There are fried eggs downstairs."

I shook my head.

Just then, Trevor came down the stairs, car keys in hand. He frowned when he saw me. "Don't block the stairs."

As he shoved past me, his shoulder rammed into mine.

The bread fell from my hand and tumbled down the stairs.

He didn't look back while saying, "Come on, Ayleen, it's my turn to give you a ride today."

Ayleen hesitated, looked at the bread on the floor, then at me. "Trevor, you bumped into Nyomi."

"No, I didn't." His tone made it clear there was no room for argument.

Ayleen didn't say anything else and trailed after him.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I bent down, picked up the bread, brushed off the dust, and took another bite.

My stomach cramped with pain, but I'd gotten used to it.