Chapter 3
Mom's and Dad's faces fell, totally embarrassed under the Marks' shocked and disgusted stares.
Dad was the first to snap back into action. He grabbed Mom's arm, cutting off whatever excuse she was trying to mumble. He forced a stiff smile at Patrick. "Kids—they say the wildest things when they're upset. We'll handle this. We're taking her back to the hotel now."
With that, scowling, he reached out to grab me.
I gripped Patrick's jacket like a lifeline, desperate not to let go.
He stepped in front of me, shielding me. "Mr. Gibson, she's really upset right now. Let her hang out with Sophia for a bit and calm down."
"There's no need for that. She's our kid. We'll take care of her ourselves!" Dad snapped, trying to pull me away.
Renee had seen enough. She nudged Sophia over to my side.
"Sophia, take Eileen to the café right there. Get her something warm to drink," Renee said.
Then she turned to Mom. Her tone was polite, but the unspoken message was clear. "Mrs. Gibson, let the girls have some time together. Sophia can sit with Eileen while Eileen sorts through her thoughts."
Mom eyed Renee's fine cashmere coat, her bravado shrinking away. Mom gave a reluctant nod.
Olivia and Ryan were already getting impatient.
"Mom, come on. Let's go. I haven't even taken any pictures of my new bag yet," Olivia whined.
"Who cares? If she wants to act like this, let her stay out here. Let the cold fix her attitude!" Ryan shot me a vicious glare.
In the end, the three of them just walked away, not even bothering to look back.
Sophia grabbed my hand and pulled me into the café next door.
Renee ordered a hot chocolate for me.
Clutching the warm cup, I finally let out all the pain and frustration I'd bottled up for 18 years.
Ever since I could remember, Olivia always got first pick of the good food, Ryan got the biggest portion, and I was left with the scraps nobody wanted.
New clothes were always for them. I was stuck wearing Olivia's hand-me-downs.
Whenever I got pocket money from other relatives, Mom would take it. "I'm keeping it safe for you," she'd say. But I never saw a single cent.
But Ryan? He could use his money to buy the latest gaming console, no questions asked.
I used to think it was because we were poor, so I worked my butt off in school, snagged scholarships, and even took part-time jobs to earn some cash.
For this trip to Lythara, I gave them 7,000 dollars from my own savings.
Back then, Mom hugged me, saying I was the sweetest, most thoughtful child, and promised she'd make it up to me when we got to Lythara.
But in the end, all I got was a slap in the face and a cheap souvenir that ended up in the storm drain.
Sophia's eyes welled up as she listened, hugging me and passing me tissues.
"That's horrible. How can they do that to you?" she cried.
Renee sighed, stroking my hair, her face full of concern and warmth.
"You've had it rough, dear. Honestly, it's their loss," she said softly.
That night, I didn't go back to my family's hotel.
Renee spoke to the tour guide, and they moved me into a room with Sophia.
*****
For the rest of the trip, something shifted in our group.
Mom, Dad, Olivia, and Ryan walked ahead, snapping photos like crazy.
I stayed back with the Marks, quietly soaking in the scenery.
It was like we were two totally separate groups, not even connected at all.
Mom and Dad never tried to reach out to me—not a single call, not even a text.
I borrowed Sophia's phone and looked at Mom's social media feed.
She posted a photo with Olivia and Ryan in front of the Luminara Museum, captioning it: [Family is only complete when everyone's here.]
On a Corinne River cruise, she snapped a shot of Ryan's profile, his Rolex catching the light, and wrote: [My boy is finally coming into his own.]
In a field of lavender, she shared a photo of Olivia's back, her new bag slung over her shoulder, with the caption: [My little princess deserves the very best.]
In every single photo, they were all grinning from ear to ear.
And Dad was always the first to like every post, his comment never changing: [The three most important treasures in my life.]
They were living it up in Lythara, all smiles and happiness, like I never even existed.
Seeing me so down, Sophia handed me her tablet.
"Eileen, don't look at that. Look here instead. There's a contest for new designers in Kaelis. Why don't you try submitting something?" she suggested.
I took the tablet and saw it was an international jewelry design competition.
The grand prize was 60,000 dollars.
But the real prize was the internship it came with—a chance to work with a famous luxury brand.
My heart was pounding.
*****
On the last day before we headed back home, I borrowed Sophia's tablet in our Kaelis hotel room.
I poured all my frustration and anger into my design sketches.
By the time dawn broke, my entry was finally finished.
I named it "Echo." It was a necklace I designed myself.
The pendant looked like a crushed tower, surrounded by a mess of sharp, jagged lines.
But right at the top, breaking through all that pressure, a tiny diamond sparkled—finally free.
That was its message—Even the quietest voice deserves to be heard. Even the most overlooked person wants a chance to shine.