Chapter 4: Not the Daughter They Wanted

Her footsteps were light, almost skipping.

She peeked into the room, eyebrows raised in surprise.

She ran upstairs and looked surprised to see me in the storage room.

She blinked, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something.

But didn’t.

I glanced at her, unfazed.

I met her gaze, steady and unblinking.

I wanted her to know I saw through her.

She thought I didn’t know she’d put that teddy bear in her room on purpose, just to lure me into picking it.

It was a clever trick, I’ll give her that.

She knew exactly how to play the game.

From the first day I came home, I fell into her carefully set trap.

She watched me like a hawk, every move calculated.

I was just a piece on her board.

She spent three years fighting me for the family’s love, and finally won it all.

She was relentless, tireless.

I never stood a chance.

And I, through death, finally understood something:

It took losing everything to see the truth.

I wish I’d learned sooner.

The best way to get love is to love yourself.

It’s not selfish—it’s survival.

I clung to that thought like a life raft.

I moved into the storage room and closed the door.

The room was small, windowless, but it was mine.

For the first time, I felt a sliver of control.

Savannah brought over the teddy bear. “Sis, here’s a plush for you. You must like it.”

She held it out, her smile sweet as sugar.

Her eyes searched my face for a reaction.

“I don’t like plush toys, thanks,” I replied through the door, taking out the books I’d brought from the country.

I stacked them neatly on the desk—cookbooks, old paperbacks, a battered journal.

Things that were truly mine.

The moment I came back, I already had a plan.

I was done waiting for love.

I was going to build a life for myself, no matter what.

I want to love myself.

I repeated it in my head, a mantra.

I owed myself that much.

There are lots of ways to love yourself.

For me now, working hard and being independent is the best way.

I made a list in my journal: study hard, save money, never rely on anyone but myself.

“Does my sister not like me? That’s right, I’m the one who took over your place…” Savannah said softly outside the door.

Her voice trembled, just loud enough for my parents to hear.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

It sounded like she was talking to me, but really, she was talking to my parents.

She played the victim, her words dripping with guilt she didn’t feel.

They were still there.

I could hear my mother’s footsteps, the rustle of her shirt as she moved closer.

Sure enough, my mother hurried to comfort her: “Sweetie, your sister might just be tired and needs to rest, don’t worry about it.”

She wrapped Savannah in a hug, murmuring soft reassurances.

The words weren’t for me.