Chapter 2

The echo of the slap faded, leaving a dead second of silence in the room.

Daniel finally snapped out of his daze, grabbing Claire's wrist in an iron grip.

"What are you doing?"

"Sophie is alive. Isn't that a good thing?"

Claire yanked her hand free, her eyes rimmed with angry red.

"And what about Ella?" her voice shook. "Ella is our daughter too! For two years, she gave up everything for Sophie. It is not fair!"

Standing at the foot of the stairs, Ella burst into tears.

She hurled the limited-edition console right at me. The plastic shell smashed against the wall and ricocheted off, the battery cover skittering across the floor.

"I hate you!" she shrieked, her face slick with tears. "Why aren't you dead yet!"

"Ella, sweetheart, do not cry."

Claire dropped to her knees and pulled her into a tight hug, rubbing her back with one hand while scooping up the broken console with the other.

Shoving the pieces back into Ella's hands, she spun around and marched toward me.

SMACK!

Another sharp crack echoed through the room.

My left ear rang violently. The already burning patch on my cheek flared with fresh agony.

"Liar," Claire spat, glaring at me with a raw, venomous disgust I had never seen before.

I opened my mouth to explain, but she did not give me the chance.

For two years, whenever I felt guilty, Claire would just wave it off: "Do not worry about Ella. We will make it up to her later."

Daniel would always chime in: "The only thing that matters is that you enjoy these last two years to the fullest."

Yet now, looking at them, I felt like this really was my fault.

It was the cruel joke of the number hovering above my head.

It was the reason my parents had piled all their suffocating favoritism onto me, leaving Ella to watch from the outside looking in.

I curled up in the corner of my bed, clutching my burning cheek as tears silently slipped down my face.

Claire let out a cold scoff.

"Always putting on a pathetic act."

She threw those words at me like venom, picked Ella up, and turned on her heel to leave.

Daniel followed close behind. Pausing at the doorway, he glanced back.

He looked back at me, his eyes emptied out, exhausted, and so completely disappointed.

Then he slammed the door shut.

"You think long and hard about what you have done tonight, Sophie," his muffled voice came through the heavy wood. "First thing tomorrow morning, you are going to apologize to your mother and Ella."

I did not answer.

Burying my face in my knees, I listened to their footsteps fading down the hallway.

Early the next morning, a crew of workmen arrived at the house.

Clad in heavy cargo pants and gripping tape measures and tools, they marched straight into my bedroom and started clearing it out.

Stacks of books were shoved roughly into cardboard boxes. My dresses were ripped from their hangers and tossed into black trash bags. Even the bedside lamp I had used for two years was ruthlessly unplugged.

My family was sitting on the living room sofa.

Claire had her arms wrapped protectively around Ella, whose eyes were still puffy and swollen.

Daniel sat beside them, his hands clasped so tightly together his knuckles were bone-white.

I walked over slowly, my head bowed, staring blankly at the worn-out pom-poms on my slippers.

"Starting today, every single piece of clothing bought for you over the last two years is going in the trash." Claire paused, as if savoring the cruelty of her own words. "Everything else is being moved into Ella's room."

"And your art studio. It is being cleared out for Ella."

I did not dare lift my head. "Okay," I whispered.

"This is your punishment for lying to us."

"I did not lie..." My voice was so fragile it was practically swallowed by the air.

Claire froze halfway off the sofa.

Her voice skyrocketed into a shrill shriek. "You still dare to deny it?"

I finally looked up, pointing directly at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall.

"The number above my head is still moving. It changed again today."

She closed the distance between us in a heartbeat, her finger jabbing so close it almost pierced my nose.

"Oh, really? Then why don't you tell me just what it changed to today?"

I stared at the harsh, glaring red digits hovering above my reflection, and spoke every syllable with absolute clarity. "-3."

Daniel's face went slack for a fraction of a second.

His gaze darted frantically from my face to Claire's, then back again. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

Claire lunged, twisting her fist into the fabric of my shirt, and violently dragged me toward the bedroom door.

"This is exactly how you scammed your way into getting everything you wanted!" she screamed, her voice cracking with hysteria. "And you are still putting on this pathetic act?!"

"I am having the workers rip out your bed and your closet right this second!"

"Claire, calm down!" Daniel bolted upright, reaching out to intervene. "Where is Sophie supposed to sleep?"

"I do not care where she sleeps!" Claire roared, her eyes bloodshot. She pushed Ella behind her back, taking the stance of a feral wolf guarding its pup. "The attic, the basement, the garage—she can sleep on the damn street for all I care!"

"Just keep her out of Ella's sight!"

Daniel opened his mouth to argue, but Claire snatched his phone off the coffee table and hurled it straight at his chest.

"Do you think I am just losing my mind?" she hissed through gritted teeth. "Look at it yourself!"

Daniel caught the phone.

The screen was already lit. The phone's light washed over his face, and I watched his expression harden bit by bit.

I saw his brow furrow in confusion before his eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a tight, bloodless line.

He began to scroll. His thumb swiped faster and faster, and in the quiet room, I could hear his breathing grow terrifyingly heavy.

Finally, Daniel slowly raised his head.

The look he gave me was no longer just anger. It was a cold, absolute, and devastating disappointment.

"Sophie," he said, turning the glowing screen toward me. His voice was frighteningly low. "Is this true?"