I rubbed my frozen hands, sprinting through the snow to grab ingredients.
Back home, I wrangled the shrimps, skin flaring in angry red welts. Fingers throbbing.
Didn't matter. This was the last dinner I'd ever choke through with Dad and Ryell.
By the time I dropped the garlic shrimp on the table, they were all cackling in the living room.
Dad, usually stone-faced, was warm with Callie.
Ryell leaned in close, telling her about his day. He took an orange from her hand. "Our little princess shouldn't be peeling fruit. You've got piano hands."
Jovan came too, with his parents.
They clearly wanted Callie as Jovan's mate, not me.
He sat next to her like she was the only one in the room.
When juice hit her lip, he wiped it with a handkerchief. Gentle. Careful. Like she might shatter.
I stood there. Invisible.
If Callie was in the room, I didn't exist.
The living room buzzed with laughter. The dining room? Cold.
Hard to believe that seat used to be mine.
I was the one they once adored.
Callie turned, smiling. "Maria, why are you just standing there? Come sit with me."
Ryell scoffed. "Why? She'll just kill the vibe. Not every sister's as sweet as you, Callie."
I dug my nails into my palm, holding back the tears.
Forced a smile. "It's fine. I'll stay here. Dinner's ready. You should eat."
By the time I set the last plate down, they were already seated.
Callie had taken my seat.
Dad. Ryell. Jovan. His parents. All there.
No room left for me.
Ryell glanced up.
Before he could speak, I grabbed a plate and slipped back into the kitchen.
His surprise lasted half a second. Then he was back to peeling shrimp—for her.
Barely anything left in the pot. I drank the broth straight.
Seafood was Callie's favorite.
And everyone loved spoiling her. Peeling shrimp, refilling her glass. Her plate never emptied.
Jovan's parents used to dote on me. Now? They'd give her everything if she asked.
Laughter echoed while I stood alone.
That used to be me. The one they cherished.
I was so lost in it, I didn't notice Ryell watching. Our eyes met. I flinched.
His warmth? Gone. Frozen solid.
I turned too fast, elbow caught a plate.
It shattered.
Dad froze mid-bite. Then exploded. "I knew you weren't sorry. Look at this mess. Can't even cook without wrecking the place. Useless mutt!"
I clutched my arm—blood trickling from a glass shard.
'Dad, I'm not useless... I didn't mean to... This was supposed to be our last dinner.'
But I knew—even if I said it out loud, he'd never believe me.
Jovan's mom glanced at me. For a second, she actually looked worried. "Maria's just a kid. They act out when they're hurting. Maybe we've been too hard on her. Someone get her a chair."
Every eye burned through me as she pulled me over.
"Maria, you've lost weight. Sit. Eat something."
Only then did they see me. Really see me.
Dad blinked, like my ribs showing was breaking news. He looked like he might say something—
Then Callie gasped. Loud.
She yanked up her sleeve. "It burns—it's itching!"
In a flash, Dad, Ryell, and Jovan were on her.
Her arm was covered in welts, raw and bleeding.
Dad grabbed her hand. "It's a reaction... but to what?"
Then his glare slammed into me. Ice cold.
He snapped—and slapped me hard.
The sound cracked like thunder.
"How did I end up with a daughter like you? Did you poison the food?! You trying to hurt Callie?!"
I dropped to the floor, cheek blazing, vision going dark.
When I came to, they were all standing over me.
Every eye screaming blame. Disgust.
Like they wished it had been me instead.
Trembling, I whispered, "It wasn't me. I didn't do it..."
But of course, no one believed me.
Ryell sneered. "How did I get stuck with a sister like you? Sick. You cooked just to hurt her!"
Jovan wouldn't even look at me.
"Now you see why I could never make her my mate?" he said to his mom. "I can't stand her."
She opened her mouth, but Dad was already scooping Callie up.
"Get her to a healer. We'll deal with this later!"
They all followed. All of them.
Left me bleeding on the floor.
My cheek throbbed. My arm stung.
But my chest? That was the worst.
I watched them leave as tears spilled.
Same story, every time.
If Callie existed, I didn't.
Something in me snapped—my wolf, silent and still.
The sorrow hit hard, heavy enough to bury me.
But that was it. No more.
I was done. I'd vanish from their world.
And I'd never cry for them again.
