Chapter 9: Cold Rain, Hot Rage

As soon as Mrs. Carter got out of detention, she called every SAT prep teacher, demanding to make up for all the classes Natalie missed.

Then she rushed into the kitchen to make nutritious meals for her precious darling.

At first, she glared at me, itching to hit me.

I waved my phone.

"If you dare hit me, I’ll call the cops again!"

Mrs. Carter was so angry she was panting.

"Give Natalie her phone back!"

"No! Either buy her a new one, or she doesn’t get it!"

Mrs. Carter’s face turned red, she dragged Natalie over to check her, asking if I bullied her during those 24 hours.

Natalie listlessly shook her head, saying nothing.

To Mrs. Carter, that meant I definitely did something bad!

But she was also scared, not daring to actually hit me.

So she clutched her chest.

"What a sin, how did I give birth to such a curse? You don’t study, you bully Natalie—I should’ve strangled you at birth! Why didn’t I strangle you!"

With nowhere to vent, she just ignored me.

As if I didn’t exist.

No food for me, no dishes for me, even the water was moved to Natalie’s room.

I shrugged and went to the balcony.

With the light from outside, I ate some toast and a sandwich—delicious!

From that day on, Mrs. Carter completely excluded me.

If she wasn’t afraid of gossip, she probably wouldn’t even let me in the house.

But I didn’t care at all!

Up early for work every day, only coming back after dark.

Hungry, I ate bread; thirsty, I drank bottled water.

The only annoying thing was, Derek kept haunting me!

That day, it poured rain.

At first it was muggy, then a cold wind blew in.

Leaving the shop, I hunched my shoulders, wondering how to go.

Derek handed me an umbrella.

"Here, take it!"

I pretended not to see, even moved aside.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"What are you trying to prove? Not going home? Planning to run in the rain?"

His brows were dark; I glared at him.

"What do you want?"

Derek gripped the umbrella tighter.

"I want to ask you something! Why did Natalie jump off the building? Lillian, aren’t you worried at all? That’s your sister—same blood, same mother! She jumped, killed herself, died! Don’t you want to change that, save her? You should stay by her side, protect her, not be out here making money!"

Derek’s words were forceful, full of righteous passion.

My initial hostility slowly faded, and I even laughed at him softly.

He froze—a bit lost, a bit confused, wanting to say more but couldn’t.

But I didn’t give him a chance, turning and running into the rain.

The rain poured down, drenching me.

My sneakers squished with every step, water pooling at my ankles. The rain was cold enough to sting. I couldn’t open my eyes, my clothes were instantly soaked.

But I didn’t stop, running all the way home.

My clothes clung to me, water dripping, uncomfortable as hell.

I knocked on the door, no answer.

Knocked harder, still no one.

Letting out a breath, I slumped against the door, exhausted.

My body felt weak, shivering.

Touched my forehead—burning hot.

Bad luck never comes alone—now I was running a fever.

Mrs. Carter wouldn’t open the door.

Natalie wouldn’t care.

I didn’t even have the right to a house key.

I must be the most miserable, useless reborn person ever.

Leaning against the door, I dozed off.

Who knows how long before the door suddenly opened!

Under the hallway light I saw Natalie, in her pajamas, hair loose, standing there.

I pushed past her into the house.

Couldn’t help but sneer.

"Well, that’s a first—you actually opened the door for me? I thought you couldn’t wait for me to die outside!"

Natalie said nothing, just closed the door and squatted down, wiping up the water with a towel.

Unlike Mrs. Carter’s indifference.

Natalie truly didn’t care—wasn’t concerned, didn’t mind.

As if I were a stranger, or invisible.

She couldn’t see me.

Didn’t want to see me.

Then why ask me for help?

Natalie, have you ever, even once, wanted to stand up for me?

In this house, you were spoiled, got everything, but never said a word for me!

Were you especially pleased? Stepping on me, seeing me mistreated, while you lived like a princess—were you especially happy?

Did you hate me that much?

Natalie still said nothing, but her hand stopped moving.

I waited.

One second, two seconds, one minute, two minutes passed.

The light in my eyes slowly faded, I shifted my feet, about to turn away.

Natalie suddenly stood up.

The towel dropped to the floor.

Her arms trembled.

She suppressed her voice and growled—

"Yes, I hate you, I hate you to death! Lillian, you’re a waste! When did your memories start? Six? Eight? Or ten? Mine started at two! When you were still playing with blocks and dolls, I could recite Dr. Seuss by heart! Mom was so happy, called Dad, had me recite for him! She told Dad to come home, said she wanted to take me to the hospital for an IQ test! 120, that’s my score! High intelligence, above average! But that’s all! But Mom wouldn’t listen, she thought she had a genius! A genius needs special training and education—she dreamed of a bright future! I said I wanted candy, she said no, geniuses can’t eat candy! But Dad still bought me two—I ate the grape, saved the strawberry for you! That was the last lollipop I ever ate! Lillian, how could you live so carefree, so unrestrained? I begged you—stop playing, study with me, keep me company! But you couldn’t sit still, couldn’t learn, you were a waste! You’re a waste, so at worst Mom hits you, scolds you, gives up on you! But I’m a genius! If a genius turns into a waste, I’ll die! She’ll kill me! And if she doesn’t—maybe I’ll do it myself."