Chapter 1
My wealthy parents worried that my sister and I would bully their adopted daughter, so they sent us to work as grass-roots employees, forcing us to fly the longest, toughest routes.
Then we landed in Camoria, and a sudden riot broke out in the country. All the return flights were canceled.
I called my parents, begging them to send a plane to get us home, but they coldly scolded me.
My father said, "A good flight attendant stays calm in a crisis. Don't think about running away.
"Wait and come back with that plane."
Left with no choice, we begged everyone we knew and finally managed to buy two tickets home.
But on the day of the flight, our phones showed the tickets had been canceled.
Just as I was about to call the airline, my parents called.
My father said, "If the rest of the crew can stay, why should you get special treatment?
"I've canceled those tickets. Apart from that plane, don't expect to take any other means of transportation."
They hung up and blocked us from buying tickets online.
Later, everyone stranded there was brought back, except my sister and me.
My sister was killed in the riot, and I was barely saved by the embassy.
While I was numbly arranging my sister's funeral, I saw a post from my adopted sister.
She posted: [I must thank the best parents in the world. They were worried when I was abroad and sent ten planes to escort me home.]
This time, I didn't lash out. I quietly liked the post and left a comment.
I said: [Your parents are so nice to you. Hope the three of you stay a happy family forever.]
*****
The air in the funeral parlor was so cold that it chilled me to the bone.
I took the tissue the staff handed me and went through the motions of handling my sister Emily's funeral.
Out of nowhere, my phone blared, the shrill ringtone slicing through the cold silence.
The screen flashed: Dad.
My father started laying into me the second I picked up.
"Claire, are you out of your mind? Vivian's heart started acting up because of your comment. She can't even eat now," he barked.
I let out a bitter laugh, one that sounded worse than crying.
"I was just being honest. Compared to Emily and me, Vivian is the one you actually treat like your own daughter," I said.
There was a brief silence on the other end before Mom's voice came through.
"Claire, it's not safe around where Vivian's studying. We were worried about her, so we sent a plane to bring her back," she said.
After a pause, she went on, trying to sound soothing.
"As an elder sister, you should be more gracious. Stop picking on Vivian all the time," she added.
"Picking on her?" I let out a bitter laugh, my throat tight. "Do I even have the right to do that?"
My father's voice cut in, rough and impatient.
He roared, "Why are you even explaining to her? I'm bringing my daughter home. Do I need her permission for that?
"If you don't apologize to Vivian, you and Emily can rot in Camoria for the rest of your lives. There's a riot going on. Maybe you'll just end up dead over there."
When I heard those cruel words, I couldn't help but laugh through my tears.
So they knew people were dying in the riots, and they threw Emily and me to the wolves on purpose.
Ever since we were little, the moment Vivian felt even a little upset, Mom and Dad would start laying into us nonstop.
They'd hold everything over our heads just to make us say sorry.
To them, Vivian was always the clever, sweet one, and Emily and I? We were just the villains.
That was why they were worried that we'd throw our weight around at work. They pretended we weren't even related and shipped us off to the hardest, farthest flights, making us start from the very bottom.
After finally earning our wings, we always got stuck with the riskiest, far-off routes.
Right before this flight to Camoria, the news was all about riots breaking out there. It sounded like a one-way ticket.
They knew it was risky as hell but still made Emily and me go anyway.
Emily and I didn't want to go, but they just kept yelling, calling us pampered princesses and saying we were too soft.
They kept guilt-tripping us about how much they'd done for us, until we finally caved.
When the riots broke out, not only did they turn a blind eye to our desperate calls for help, they even canceled our flights, making absolutely sure we had no way to get home.
Meanwhile, Vivian was off studying in Uronia, where everything was perfectly safe and calm.
But Mom and Dad, terrified something might happen to her, sent ten private jets and a squad of professional bodyguards just to escort her back home.
Emily and I were their real daughters, but they acted like we didn't even matter.
Vivian wasn't even their real daughter, just adopted, but she got showered with all the love in the world.
Even when Emily was on her deathbed, she was still making excuses for them.
Emily, barely hanging on, whispered, "Mom and Dad must not know what's really happening. That's why they won't let us come back. Don't hate them. Just hang in there."
The image of Emily's body torn apart in the explosion flashed through my mind, and rage surged up inside me all over again.
I said, "Apologize? Not happening.
"You're the reason Emily's dead. Is this what you wanted?
"You call yourselves parents? Karma's coming for you."
With that, I slammed the phone down, cutting off whatever they were about to yell at me.