Chapter 4

After the recital ended, articles calling Grace a "piano prodigy" flooded the local papers.

Olivia clipped them out and pasted them into a scrapbook.

She smiled at the pages. "Grace makes us so proud."

She flipped through the album and pointed out Grace's certificates, trophies, and performance photos spanning her entire life. "She started piano at three, performed on stage at five, and won nationals at twelve."

The album was thick, documenting all twenty years of Grace's life.

My twenty years only existed in a yellowed note and the photo on William's gravestone.

Olivia closed the album and looked at me. "Emily, Mom wants to give you a gift."

She pulled out a velvet box from the drawer and opened it.

A diamond necklace glittered inside.

She lifted it carefully. "Next month is your sister's birthday party and it's your official debut too." She walked behind me and fastened the necklace around my neck. "You'll look beautiful."

The cold diamonds pressed against my collarbone. I looked at myself in the mirror, and the necklace sparkled brightly. It made my skin look duller and rougher by comparison.

I smiled and said, "Thanks, Mom."

She smoothed my hair and said softly, "Don't be polite with me. From now on, you need to learn from your sister. Whatever she can do, you need to do too."

She paused and added, "A Jennings daughter can't be second to anyone."

Her eyes were gentle, but her tone was heavy with expectation.

Grace's birthday party was held at the Jennings Manor, and half the city's elite were invited. I wore my gown and the diamond necklace, standing beside Olivia to greet guests.

Every guest would greet Grace first and say, "Happy birthday, Grace. You look more beautiful every year."

Then they'd turn to me and ask, "And who's this?"

Olivia would smile each time and say, "My eldest daughter, Emily."

The guests would nod with sudden recognition and make polite small talk, but their attention would quickly return to Grace.

Ryan showed up, too. He wore a black suit today and carried a champagne flute as he walked straight to Grace. He said, "Birthday girl, you look stunning."

Grace blushed and replied, "Stop teasing me, Ryan."

He smiled and said, "I'm serious." His gaze swept over me, and he added, "Ms. Jennings looks very formal today."

He emphasized the word "formal."

I turned my face away.

Halfway through the party, Grace was surrounded by guests as she prepared to cut the cake.

The three-tiered fondant cake had twenty candles on top.

When she closed her eyes to make a wish, the entire room went quiet.

The candlelight illuminated her face, making her look angelic.

She opened her eyes and said in a clear voice, "My first wish is for Mom and Dad to stay healthy."

Applause filled the room.

She continued, "My second wish is for the Jennings family to continue thriving."

The applause grew louder.

She looked at me with a bright smile and said, "My third wish is for Emily to adjust quickly and become a true Jennings daughter."

Every pair of eyes turned to me again, filled with scrutiny, pity, or barely concealed mockery.

I stood frozen in place, and my fingertips went cold.

Olivia pulled Grace into a hug, her eyes glistening. "You're such a thoughtful girl," she said warmly.

Felix patted my shoulder and nodded toward the cake. "Go on, cut the cake with your sister."

I walked over to the table.

Grace handed me the knife and placed her hand over mine. "Emily, let's do this together," she said softly.

Camera flashes went off, capturing this sweet moment.

After we cut the cake, a group of young guests surrounded Grace. It started with a chat about study abroad programs, art galleries, and investment portfolios.

I slipped away to a corner and picked up a glass of juice.

Before I could take a sip, I overheard a few wealthy women nearby.

"The Jennings family's long-lost daughter doesn't quite fit in, does she?" one of them said.

"I heard she didn't even go to college after high school," another woman added.

"Mrs. Jennings must be so disappointed," the first woman replied with a sigh.

"Thank goodness Grace turned out so well, or the family would be completely embarrassed," someone else chimed in.

I set down my glass and turned to leave, but I bumped into someone. Champagne splashed all over his shirt.

"I'm so sorry," I said quickly and kept my eyes down.

"It's fine," he replied, his voice gentle.

I looked up and saw a man in his early thirties wearing a simple white dress shirt and gold-rimmed glasses. He had an easy, refined presence.

He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his shirt. "You're Emily, right?" he asked with a slight smile.

I nodded.

"I'm Charles Sinclair," he said. "I'm your father's friend."

I froze for a moment.

Most of Felix's friends were in their forties and fifties with beer guts hanging over their belts, but Charles was young. He stood out.

I greeted him politely. "Hello, Mr. Sinclair."

He tucked away his handkerchief and studied me for a moment. "Just call me Charles." His gaze swept over me. "You're not quite what I expected."

I raised an eyebrow. "Expected?"

He tilted his head. "Felix always talks about how hard your life was in that fishing village." He paused and looked at me carefully. "But I don't see any hardship in your eyes."

I smiled, and for the first time that night, it felt real.

I met his gaze. "The hardship lives in my heart, Mr. Sinclair."

He blinked in surprise and then smiled back at me. "That's an interesting answer."