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On my eighteenth birthday, I spent the entire night ironing my dress, yet never even got to wear it. That day, my two older brothers returned with a sixteen-year-old orphan. They said she was the daughter of a close family friend, and from that moment on, she became part of our family. She shattered the only celadon vase my mother had left me. Then, crying, she ran straight into my eldest brother’s arms. “Ethan, Sophia shoved me.” A sharp slap landed across my left cheek. The impact rang in my ears. Michael pointed at the front door, veins bulging. “Get out. Don’t ever come back!” I didn’t shed a tear. I lifted my suitcase and stepped into the pouring rain. They probably assumed I was just throwing a tantrum. Relieved to finally have some peace and quiet, they flew with the orphan to Norlantis, chasing the auroras I had dreamed of for ten years. Twenty-three days later, they returned home, and realized something was wrong. My phone number had been disconnected. My room emptied. The school records showed that I had withdrawn On the desk was a note with just three lines: [Ethan, I've signed a five-year confidential medical research agreement.] [Don’t look for me.] [You have Josie, and you don’t need me anymore.]