I feel like someone is like trash. Exiled, humiliated, even tortured without mercy. Have they forgotten that the wealth they now enjoy is the work of my father? Ah, Mom ... Dad ... if you were still alive, I would never have experienced such a terrible fate. The brothers whom we used to help and care for, now seem to be the rulers of this house. The house that you gave to me. Not. It's not that I don't like them living here. However, I am the real owner of this house. Why are they being mean to me? Do I have something wrong with them, Dad? Mom? I tightened my hug to the figure that often became the place for my complaints. here I am, in a shabby room that was originally a place to store my family's old belongings. My room was taken over by the son of my father's brother who hated me so much. In fact, I felt I never had any problem with him. however, why is she acting like someone who doesn't like me? The death of my parents a year ago changed
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