Chapter 3

Later, my mom felt a little guilty and was actually kind to me for a few days. But her kindness only lasted for those few days.

……

That evening, the engagement party wrapped up perfectly. No one cared whose birthday it was.

After the guests left, my dad’s expression immediately darkened and he told Zac to keep calling me. The phone, which had been off, now just went to missed calls.

Gwen grabbed Zac’s agitated hand and said, "Let it go, she just doesn’t want to see me. It’s fine."

She always knew how to appear so understanding.

As expected, my dad’s eyes filled with sympathy.

"It’s better that she didn’t come. She was bad luck for her own grandma, so her showing up would’ve just brought more misfortune.

"She was nothing but trouble from the moment she was born. It would’ve been better to just strangle her."

Hearing that, my body trembled, even in my ghostly state.

They had no right to mention my grandma.

When my mom gave birth to me, she hemorrhaged and almost died on the operating table. Gwen had been oxygen-deprived and sent to an incubator. But I was born healthy, glowing red.

Soon after, my dad’s business took a hit. They blamed all their misfortunes on me, claiming I was a curse that only brought bad luck.

That was when my dad decided to send me away.

But my grandma refused. She said they were just being superstitious and insisted on keeping me.

Up until I was eight, it was my grandma who raised me with love and care.

She was the one who named me, saying I should live happily.

When I was seven, my mom came to visit my grandma. When she left, she did not even glance at me.

I just wanted to ask her, why wouldn’t she look at me?

I chased after her car, crying, running as fast as I could.

That was when the nightmare started. I nearly died in that old, rundown shack.

When my grandma found me, she held me and cried for a long time.

She called my mom frantically, saying I was sick and begging her to come back.

But no matter how much she pleaded, my mom refused.

After that, I stopped wanting anything from my mom.

And after that, my grandma changed. She became more cautious. She even went to church and got me a small cross necklace, saying it would protect me.

But when I was eight, my grandma chased after someone who had hurt me, collapsed, and never woke up again.

I had killed the person I loved most in this world, leaving only the small cross necklace she had gotten for me.

When my mom came to pick me up, I had cried until my voice was hoarse.

My dad, out of obligation, agreed to bring me back, but I was no longer allowed to use the last name "Lincoln." I was just called Kate, no longer considered a real member of the family.

Even my legal records stayed linked to my grandma’s.

That nightmare never really left me. To this day, being in dark places still filled me with fear.

Like the basement Gwen pushed me into.

……

Gwen spent the entire ride home comforting our parents, playing the role of the dutiful daughter perfectly.

To make it up to her, my mom even made Gwen a cake.

"My precious daughter, I’m sorry you had to go through all of this today.

"Here’s your favorite cake, and may you be happy always."

Gwen snuggled up to my mom, acting spoiled, and said how lucky she felt to be so happy in this life.

"It would’ve been better if Kate had been here."

When she mentioned me, she bit her lip, looking like she was about to cry.

Zac, frustrated, muttered, "Gwen, you’re too kindhearted. That’s why you always end up getting hurt."

I stood nearby, watching them, feeling nothing but sheer irony.

The favoritism toward her was so obvious, yet she still did not think it was enough.

I knew why. It was because she hated that I existed.

It was not always this bad with my mom.

On one of my birthdays, she even made me my favorite pasta too.

I was so happy I nearly jumped for joy.

But before I could even thank her, Gwen’s eyes welled up with tears. "Just thinking about how much pain Mom went through to give birth to us makes me so sad."