Chapter 1

They said they wanted to improve our living conditions and asked me to put in all my savings from five years of work—two hundred thousand dollars—to help with the down payment.

On moving day, I realized the new house had a fingerprint lock.

My parents and my brother were all excited to register their fingerprints, but when it was my turn, my mom stopped me.

She smiled and said, "Girls are supposed to leave for another family eventually, so what's the point of registering your fingerprint? Don't worry, we've got a spare key for you."

*****

I stood frozen in the entryway, watching as my mom took a single, lonely brass key from a delicate little box and pressed it into my palm.

The key was icy to the touch, like a venomous snake winding its way through my palm and sinking straight into my heart.

"Mom, what does this mean?" I asked, my voice a little hoarse.

My brother, Ryan Lakewood, had already registered his fingerprint and was having a blast, opening and closing the door with his thumb, fascinated by the beep of the lock.

He didn't even look up as he called out, "Emily, what are you waiting for? This thing is so high-tech. You won't even need to carry a key when you go out anymore."

Yeah, they didn't need keys anymore.

But I still did.

My mom's smile was a little stiff as she patted my hand, her voice still gentle as ever.

"Emily, don't overthink it. We're just thinking that you'll get married and have your own home someday. Having to add and delete your fingerprint all the time would be such a hassle. We can't keep you tied to this house forever, can we?"

My dad came over to smooth things over, carrying a suitcase, sweat beading on his forehead. "Yeah, we're just thinking of you. Just take the key, it's no different."

Was that really for my sake?

They wanted me to hand over the 60 thousand dollars I scraped together after five years of nonstop overtime and penny-pinching, just to be told that I was nothing but a guest here, someone who could leave at any moment?

I looked at the three of them.

My dad was good-natured and simple, but he never had much of an opinion of his own; he always let Mom call the shots at home.

My mom was smart and capable, always smiling and showering me with praise since I was little, saying I was her little confidante, the pride of the family.

My brother, Ryan, was the only son, totally spoiled, just expecting everything to come his way.

The three of them formed an unbreakable triangle, leaving no room for anyone else.

And I was just an unnecessary line outside their triangle, ready to be wiped away whenever.

My heart felt like my chest was stuffed with soggy cotton, heavy and freezing.

But I didn't say a word. I just silently clenched the key in my hand.

After moving in, my room turned out to be the smallest one, facing north, with nothing to see outside but the back wall of the neighbor's kitchen.

Meanwhile, Ryan's room faced south and came with a huge balcony, soaking up sunlight from morning all the way to afternoon.

Nothing had really changed.

Before the move, my mom had held my hand, her eyes full of hope as she said, "Once we move into that big house with three bedrooms and two living rooms, the four of us will finally have plenty of space.

"You and Ryan will each have your own room. Won't that be wonderful?"

So this was what they meant by each of us got our own room.

The movers bustled in and out while Mom bossed them around, making sure all the nicest furniture ended up in Ryan's room.

Mom called out, "Put that computer desk by the window. Yeah, right there, the light's perfect.

"And that solid wood wardrobe, put it over here for Ryan. He's got so many clothes."

All I had was a single suitcase and a backpack, left alone in the corner of that little room.

It really felt like I was just some guest, a distant relative staying over for a few days.

That evening, Mom cooked up a huge spread to celebrate our housewarming.

At the dinner table, she kept piling food onto my plate, acting all motherly. "Emily, you've worked the hardest.

"If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be in this new house so soon. Come on, have some more ribs. You've been working so hard lately, you've gotten so thin."

My dad raised his glass. "Our Emily is really something, better than any boy out there."

Ryan just kept his head down, shoveling food into his mouth, and mumbled, "Yeah, my sister's the best."

For a moment, it felt like I was the family's hero again.

They kept praising me for being so sensible, so filial, and for everything I'd done for the family.

But I just couldn't say a word.

The ribs in my mouth felt like wax, stuck in my throat, impossible to swallow.

The next day was Sunday. I woke up early, like I always do, planning to make breakfast.

But the kitchen was already filled with delicious smells.

Mom looked a little surprised to see me, then quickly smiled. "Emily, you're up? You can take it easy today, I'll handle it. Ryan's girlfriend is coming over for the first time, so I want everything to be perfect."

I didn't know Ryan had a girlfriend. My heart skipped a beat.

I wondered when Ryan started dating. Why was I the last to know?

"When did this happen?" I asked.

"Just last month. Her name's Sophia Grant. She's super cute and really down-to-earth. Today's the perfect chance for her to check out our new place," Mom said, flipping eggs with a big smile, her pride practically glowing.

I finally understood.

It turned out that moving in such a hurry wasn't just about "making life better."

It was really so Ryan's future wife could have a fancy wedding house.

Seeing me stay quiet, Mom assumed I was still upset about yesterday. She leaned in and lowered her voice, "Emily, are you still thinking about the fingerprint lock? Let me be real with you. This house is mainly for Ryan's wedding.

"Sophia's family is pretty well-off, and they said if they're going to marry their daughter off, Ryan needs to have his own place. We really didn't have much of a choice.

"Besides, your money is family money, isn't it? Using it for your brother is only right. That's what big sisters are supposed to do, right?"

Her tone was so casual, like I somehow owed Ryan from the day I was born.

I looked at her, and suddenly, she felt like a stranger to me.

The mom who always taught me to be tough and independent, the one who used to tell me 'home was always my safe haven' whenever work got hard suddenly never even existed.