When my best friend and I held hands and called him "Brother," Kian's expression cracked like shattered glass.
"You adopted another one?" he snapped.
The moment he learned I was just a foster child with no inheritance rights, he relaxed a little, his arrogance returning.
"I'm warning you—don't you dare bully my sister. Otherwise, don't blame me for being rude!"
I immediately ducked behind my best friend, clutching her sleeve with trembling hands, speaking in timid voice.
"Carmela, why is your brother so biased? If he'd protected you like this back then, you wouldn't have suffered in the orphanage all these years..."
The implication was clear—you lost your real sister, made her live like an orphan, and now you're acting high and mighty defending the fake one?
Sure enough, Uncle John and Aunt Laura's faces darkened instantly.
Kian opened his mouth to retort, but before he could speak, I pinched my friend's waist sharply.
She got the message right away and burst into tears, covering her face dramatically.
"Since Brother doesn't like me, I'll just go back to the orphanage! Come on, Yanna, let's go!"
Uncle John panicked. His hand came down hard and smacked Kian right across his cheek. "Idiot! Is this how you welcome your sister? Get out of my sight!"
Kian glared at us, clutching his face, too humiliated to talk back.
My friend and I exchanged a victorious look.
We won the first battle!
But just as we stepped through the door, we froze.
There she was—the fake daughter, Trisha—standing on a stool, rope tied to the chandelier, crying as she prepared to hang herself.
Oh, please. A pity act already?
Before anyone else could react, I charged forward and shouted, "How dare you! Who told you it's okay to swing indoors?!"
My best friend slid in with a perfect tackle, kicking both the stool and the girl off balance.
Before Trisha could even loop the rope around her neck, she tumbled to the floor in a most ungraceful heap.
"Ah!" she screamed, clutching her arm as everyone rushed toward her.
When the family saw the rope and stool, their faces turned ashen with alarm.
"Trisha, what on earth were you doing?" Aunt Laura cried.
Trisha looked up through her tears, trembling and pitiful. "Big Sister, it's all my fault... I've stolen your place for so many years and made you suffer. I just wanted to repay you with my life!"
She sobbed harder, gazing at Aunt Laura and Uncle John. "Please don't blame Mom, Dad, or Brother. From now on, take good care of them for me, okay?"
Aunt Laura's eyes reddened as she pulled the girl into her arms.
"Don't be silly, child. In our hearts, you'll always be our daughter too."
"You idiot! This has nothing to do with you." Kian turned to glare daggers at us. "Let's see who dares to blame you?"
Meanwhile, Trisha, nestled in Aunt Laura's embrace, cast me a teary but triumphant look from over her shoulder.
Bingo. A classic manipulative "scheming little flower"—playing the victim while throwing shade.
Too bad she picked the wrong opponent.
I smiled sweetly and unleashed my venom.
"So this is the adopted daughter, Trisha? My apologies! For a moment, I thought someone was actually swinging inside the house."
I tilted my head. "By the way, you were trying to hang yourself, weren't you? But who uses a crystal chandelier for that? And what's with that slipknot that loosens the second you tug it? Careful, dear—you might survive the fall but take someone else down with you!"
My best friend clapped her hands, pretending to realize something.
"She's right! That's really dangerous. Good thing I—uh—acted quickly with my foot."
Everyone looked up, noticing the precarious chandelier and the shoddy knot.
Uncle John's face turned black as thunder. "Enough nonsense! What if you hurt your sister?!"
Seeing her act crumble, Trisha sniffled, forcing out another round of sobs.
"I'm sorry, Sister... I just wanted to atone..."
I folded my arms and smiled thinly. "Sister? You must be mistaken. I'm your foster sister. She—" I pushed my best friend forward "—is your real sister. You should be apologizing to her."
That shut her up for half a second—until Kian stormed forward, shielding her like a knight defending his lady.
"Dad! Trisha only wanted to make up for her mistakes! It's Carmela and Yanna who made her fall—they have no manners at all!"
