I widened my eyes in disbelief, staring at the man in front of me. He had a beer belly and wore a suit jacket every day, but I struggled to recognize him.
In the blink of an eye, after all these years, he seemed to live so freely, even his face had developed some jowls.
I stared blankly, nodding, unable to muster a smile. Turning my head, I bowed three times solemnly to my grandmother’s altar.
In my heart, I silently vowed that I would listen to her and live my life well.
My father’s home was in the city. He told me to pack a few clothes and come back with him, but what was there for me to pack? I could only carry a small bundle, containing a few worn-out clothes patched together, and got into his car.
I shrank into the corner, afraid to make a sound. The entire journey, I was filled with dread, unsure of what awaited me in the city.
I knew very well that he didn’t like me—he probably even despised me—but due to legal reasons, he was obligated to take care of me until I turned eighteen.
When I saw the small two-story house in front of me, a flicker of awe crossed my eyes.
It was such a beautiful house, far better than the small wooden cabin I shared with Grandma, which was always at risk of collapsing.
As I pushed the door open, I saw a well-maintained woman sitting on the couch.
The moment she saw me, a soft, almost fragile smile appeared on her face.
“Honey, you’re back. This is Wendy.”
Her words were warm, but when she saw my shabby clothes, she instinctively covered her nose, as if I reeked of something foul.
This stepmother of mine was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, but the disgust and disdain in her eyes were just as evident as her beauty, displayed clearly on her face.
“What is that smell on you? There’s a bathroom upstairs. Go wash up first. This is the city, not your backward little village.”
I stood frozen, awkwardly rubbing the hem of my clothes.
My father frowned, speaking in a tone that sounded almost annoyed. “Yes, you really should take a good shower. Since you’re living in the city now, you need to clean up your act. Don’t go out and embarrass me.”
I wanted to ask, what exactly was so embarrassing about me?
Ruth, my stepmother, glanced at me, then suddenly stood up and went upstairs to grab something—a white bottle.
“This is disinfectant. When you shower, make sure to disinfect yourself properly. I don’t want you bringing any germs that could infect Anna.”
That’s when I finally looked at her properly.
I knew who Anna was—my father's precious daughter, treated like royalty. She was my half-sister.
In a soft voice, I asked, “Is there anything else I need to pay attention to?”
Ruth spoke, her tone cool and commanding. “After your shower, throw out all those rags you’re wearing. They’re probably bad luck. And when you go out, spray yourself with alcohol disinfectant every day. I don’t want my house, which I’ve worked so hard to keep clean, to be tainted.”
Bad luck.
The words hit me like a slap, and a cold gleam flashed in my eyes.
To Ruth, I was the source of all the problems in her perfect family, and my life here would never be easy.
Though I knew the truth, I still forced a meek smile and nodded.
“I’ll remember your advice, Aunt Ruth.”
Ruth continued, her voice sharp. “Be smart, have some awareness. Don’t be like a wooden block. Now that you’re in this house, you need to become part of the family. I don’t want to have to treat you like some unwanted guest.”
I nodded again.
I didn’t say anything else and followed the direction she pointed, holding the disinfectant she gave me as I headed upstairs.
Under the stream of hot water, I felt the tension in my body ease, and for a moment, I could breathe a little easier.