Chapter 4

As I drove away from home, I felt lost.

There was no place I could call my own.

Panic still gripped me, making it hard to breathe.

Even though I ended up with the car that was supposed to be Beatrice's, we were never the same, not even close.

She had her own place out there, while I had nowhere to go.

My parents paid for that house in full when she graduated from college.

Same old family game; "Okay, let's draw lots! Stella, you're up first. Whoever gets the yellow ball wins a big villa!"

And, as always, I pulled the red ball.

Also, Beatrice didn't even have to play; she automatically got the yellow ball as always.

She was so thrilled.

I totally lost it and bawled my eyes out.

My mom was right there, yelling in my face and pointing at me over and over.

But I just couldn't stop the tears at all.

Finally, my dad let out a sigh and said, "Yeah, the villa was bought for Beatrice, but it's not like we ever said you couldn't stay there if you wanted."

Just like that, the tears stopped.

I looked at them, suddenly calm, and asked, "Did you guys mess with the drawing or something?"

"Otherwise, how could I lose every single time, year after year?" I couldn't help but ask.

That's when my parents started freaking out.

They scrambled to promise they'd get me a little apartment close to my office, so I could crash there for work and come home on weekends.

But when it came to actually buying me a place, they always found ways to delay it, tossing out excuse after excuse.

Three years passed, and I still didn't get anything from them.

Whatever.

From now on, I'll handle things myself.

I asked every single coworker I could find, and finally managed to rent a two-bedroom apartment near the office.

I didn't own a single thing, so I bought everything new; I dropped nearly 30 thousand, and I didn't even bat an eyelid.

If this were back in the day, I'd have been scared stiff, terrified my mom would find out.

She would've yelled at me over and over for spending so much, calling me wasteful.

And then, just to get back at me, she would've bought Beatrice a whole bunch of expensive, fancy stuff.

If I ever dared to argue for myself, they'd just pull the same old trick so I'd get the red ball again, forcing me to swallow all my hurt.

Not only did they pretend not to see how much it hurt me, but they'd also stand there and laugh at me for being so unlucky.

I couldn't help myself; the nausea was just too much. Hugging the trash can, I puked my guts out.

Crazy thing was, after I threw up, all that nasty feeling disappeared. For once, I actually got a good night's sleep.

For the next half month, not a single one of them bothered to call me.

Even my relatives didn't so much as send a single message.

Honestly, I loved peace.

Either way, there's no way I'm ever going back.

But what really caught me off guard was that after my business trip, my team leader gave me a lift from the airport back to my apartment.

I barely had the car door open when my mom suddenly grabbed me and dragged me out.

"Mom, what are you doing?" I shouted, recognizing her face at last.

She suddenly went ballistic, like I was something disgusting she'd just stumbled upon, yanking my hair with both hands and screeching at the top of her lungs.

"So that's it! I always thought at least you weren't that scheming, but turns out you were sneaking around with some scumbag behind my back!" she shrieked.

"First, you nearly burn down the house, then you pull all those nasty tricks to screw Beatrice over with her car; all these trashy schemes are his doing, aren't they?" she shouted.

"I ought to beat you to death, you ungrateful, backstabbing brat! If I'd known you'd turn out so rotten, I swear I'd rather have given birth to an idiot than to you!" she continued shouting.