Chapter 1
In my parents' eyes, my brother was their only child.
When he won math competitions and my essays were praised by teachers, Mom would only say, "Don't get cocky. Your brother is the only one who's truly talented."
When I was fifteen, they sold everything they owned to take my brother to a top college abroad.
Before they left, I knelt on the floor and begged them, "Please take me with you. I don't want to be alone."
My father didn't even look back. "You're just mediocre. Taking you would be a waste of money, and we can't afford any more dead weight."
Just like that, I was left behind with my grandmother.
Twenty years later, they returned.
My brother had cut off all contact with them. They were old, sick, and in need of care.
They tracked me down and demanded to move in, telling me it was time I fulfilled my duty as their daughter.
As I closed the door in their faces, I only said one thing.
*****
My life was cleaved in two the day I turned fifteen.
One half was a memory of a home; the other was nothing but ruins.
The living room was a sea of luggage—suitcases of all sizes, packed to the bursting point.
My mother, Margaret Evans, was fussing over my brother Michael's backpack, carefully tucking something away.
It was a brand-new fountain pen, Veridian-made, meant to last for years.
My father, Edward Evans, was on the phone nearby, arranging a car to the airport.
His voice was thick with an excitement he couldn't—or wouldn't—hide.
None of this had anything to do with me.
I stood in the doorway of my room like a total outsider.
Michael sat on the sofa in crisp new sneakers, reading a Veridian physics textbook.
He was the golden child of the family.
Since we were kids, his awards had covered an entire wall.
Math, physics, chemistry—he was top-tier in everything.
I was nothing more than a shadow cast by his brilliance.
I had exactly one award from a Statewide Essay Contest, which Mom had tossed into a junk drawer.
"Don't get cocky," she'd said then. "Michael is the only one who's truly talented.."
Now, they were taking their "talented" son across the ocean to Veridia.
They claimed the education there would give him the future he deserved.
To make it happen, they sold the only roof over our heads.
They liquidated everything for him.
And they abandoned me.
"Dad, Mom," I rasped, my voice barely a whisper.
No one answered.
Margaret was still lecturing Michael about packing his favorite sneakers.
Edward hung up and said, "The car's booked. It'll be here in thirty minutes."
I took a trembling step forward, blocking their path.
"What about me?"
I looked at them, my eyes already stinging with tears.
"What am I supposed to do?"
Margaret finally spared me a glance, her eyes full of annoyance.
"You're staying with your grandmother."
Edward's brow furrowed like I was just a nuisance.
"Charlotte, stop making a scene.
"We're doing this for your brother. For the good of this family."
For the good of the family.
But was I ever really part of this family?
The tears finally broke through.
I dropped to the floor, clutching the hem of Edward's pants.
"Dad, please take me with you!"
"I don't want to be alone!
"I'll do anything! I won't be a burden, I promise!"
I begged, stripping away every ounce of my dignity.
I just didn't want to be discarded.
Edward's face darkened.
He tried to shake me off, but I held on tight.
His patience finally snapped.
"Charlotte Evans, that's enough!"
His voice was cold, devoid of any warmth.
"Your brother is going there to study. What are you going to do?
"You're average and slow. Taking you is a waste of money.
"We can't afford to burn resources on you anymore."
He looked at me, every word cutting like a blade into my chest.
"I don't have time to waste on you."
He gave me a violent shove, and I was thrown aside. My elbow slammed into the cold floor, stinging with pain.
Michael never looked up at me once.
He simply turned another page of his book.
As if the person sobbing on the floor was just a complete stranger.
Thirty minutes later, the car arrived.
They grabbed their bags and walked out without looking back once.
I scrambled up and ran to the door.
I watched their silhouettes as they loaded their lives into the trunk one by one.
I didn't cry anymore. I didn't scream.
I just watched.
I watched the doors click shut.
I watched the black sedan carrying my "family" slowly pull away.
Until it was nothing but a speck disappearing at the end of the alley.
Everything went silent.
I was completely alone.
Left with nothing but an empty house.