Chapter 1

On Thanksgiving Day, I went home in the middle of buying soy sauce and overheard my mom planning to raffle off a Bentley to my sister.

Aunt Joan asked, "What about Stella? What will you give her?"

Mom froze for a second, then twisted her mouth and said, "She's tough; rain or shine, nothing bothers her. A little electric scooter will do."

Aunt Joan sighed, "Don't play favorites so obviously. If Stella finds out, she'll be upset."

Mom smirked proudly, "Relax. I've been doing this for 26 years. She's so slow that she'll never figure it out."

After saying that, Mom laughed her head off.

She was so proud of herself for messing with me for 26 years and getting away with it.

But in the end, I was the one who won the Bentley.

I laughed.

No one else in the family could.

*****

I walked out stiffly, trying to act like I hadn't overheard anything.

But my mind just wouldn't cooperate; all those old moments came flooding back.

"Let's do a lucky draw for the family party. If you pick the yellow ball, you get to go; if not, maybe next time. Stella, you're the big sister, you start."

I reached into the box and came up with a red ball.

"We're picking out new clothes for the New Year. Pull a yellow ball and you get first dibs; if it's red, you'll have to wait until next time. Stella, you go first."

I reached into the box again; red ball, again.

"We're planning a trip for National Day. If you draw a yellow ball, you go; if not, maybe next time. Big sister goes first."

Once more, I stuck my hand in the box. Another red ball.

Always red ball.

Over and over, I got my hopes up, just to be disappointed every damn time.

I broke down and cried.

But my mom just started giggling on the side, saying I was just plain unlucky, always missing out.

Even after all her laughter, she realized I was still sobbing.

Then she scoffed with a sharp tone, "Seriously, quit crying. If you're unlucky, crying never helps."

Just like back then, I dropped to my knees and ugly-cried all over again.

And that's exactly when my mom called.

She started yelling the moment I picked up, "Stella, have you no shame? You've been out for three hours and still haven't come back. Everyone's been waiting for you. Get your ass home right now!"

But when I finally got home, all I saw was a table full of dirty dishes and fruit peels scattered all over the floor.

She didn't call me back for dinner.

Everyone had eaten and drunk their fill; it's raffle time now.

She only bothered calling me home so I could witness her darling youngest score the Bentley.

If I hadn't overheard her talking to Aunt Joan, I would've never known that the lottery game for twenty-six years was just her rigged scheme to keep favoring my younger sister.

In the living room, all the relatives were gathered around my parents, busy grilling about what gifts they had planned for me and my sister this year.

No one even noticed I'd come back.

I quietly snuck into my mom's bedroom and, without hesitation, torched a blanket.

Once the flames leapt up a full meter high, I turned and walked out.

They were still deep in excited conversation.

Mom glanced up and noticed I'd come in.

Her smile dropped instantly, and she said with a sigh, "Didn't I say to get soy sauce from the village shop? But you trekked to the city again, didn't you? Good thing I didn't waste time waiting for you."

She went on, "Honestly, thank God your sister was in the kitchen, working her butt off for three hours. If it weren't for her, everyone would've gone hungry."

She followed up with a long, theatrical series of sighs.

She couldn't have made it any clearer how fed up she was with me.

But before I could say a word, my dad said, "Alright, she's back safe, that's all that matters. Stella, I saved you some food in the kitchen. Go eat up. We're about to play your favorite lottery game."

They tag-teamed each other so flawlessly.

All the relatives gave me that look, already reading between the lines of whatever my mom said.

I was the lazy one, finding an excuse to ditch all the work and show up late like I planned it.

"Stella? She's all about eating, lazing around, and making trouble. Honestly, she's been completely spoiled rotten."

"Yeah, she's an adult already and still hasn't learned to appreciate her parents' hard work. All she ever does is slack off and cut corners any chance she gets."

"Good thing her sister, Beatrice, has always been obedient and sensible. If it weren't for her, their parents would be doomed."

"Exactly, couldn't agree more."

The relatives muttered quietly to each other.

My parents shared a brief, knowing smile, just for each other.

That's when, belatedly, I finally realized what was really going on.

This double-edged move was how they put on me for years.

First, they'd tear me down, making sure all the relatives saw me as the troublemaker.

Then, they'd spoil my sister, and nobody would even blink.

And at the end, they'd just tell me to suck it up and not make a scene in front of the whole family.

But for once, I honestly didn't cause any drama.