Chapter 2

I set the chili pot down on the long dining table, its rich scent curling through the air like a forgotten promise.

Laughter floated out from the living room.

Father, usually buried in family board meetings, sat relaxed, leaning in to listen as Liora gushed about her time overseas.

"I trained with one of the most well-known mentors there," she said, eyes shining. "He told me I'm a natural leader. I can handle whatever comes my way."

Mother held Liora's hand tight, her eyes glistening.

"My sweet girl. You've lost weight, haven't you? You need more rest. All that hard work over there will wear you out."

Ronan sat beside them, picking the caramel tarts apart for her, attentive and eager.

I hung back in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, just watching. No one asked me to join them.

The living room glowed, loud and warm, full of laughter and every bit of their attention.

Where I stood, it was quiet and dim. I might as well not have been there.

Liora piped up, her tone sickly sweet.

"Seren, what are you doing just standing there? Are you still mad about your gala?"

The chatter died instantly. Three sets of eyes snapped to me, like I'd crashed their perfect little moment.

Father frowned. "Seren, come over here. Don't stand there sulking."

Mother shot me that sharp, impatient look — the one she always got whenever Liora cried.

"You chose the date yourself. Liora's flight got in that same day, and we were all exhausted from the airport run. You know that, right?"

Then her words cut deep.

"If you're going to act petty with your sister, you're no daughter of mine."

Liora gasped, eyes wide with fake worry. "Mom, don't be mean. You'll hurt Seren…"

But a faint smirk tugged at her lips, giving her away.

She'd known about my gala. I told her a week early.

She even texted me: [Can't wait! I've got a surprise for you.]

A surprise, indeed.

Ever since we were kids, Liora always turned every moment into a choice.

The family always had to pick someone. And they always picked her.

Even my fiancé had chosen her.

I waited for the pain to hit — anger, betrayal, sadness.

But nothing came. Only quiet.

"I'm not mad."

Those three words cut through the thick tension in the room.

All eyes locked on me. Father blinked. Mother narrowed her eyes. Liora tilted her head, putting on that confused, pouty look.

They'd expected me to lose it, to throw a scene. Not this calm.

That told me they knew exactly how much they'd hurt me. They just didn't care enough to stop.

Father exhaled and forced a smile. "Good. That's good. We're family. We don't hold grudges."

"Of course," I nodded, my voice soft and compliant.

It was the same polite, neutral tone I used with the board during formal meetings.

Relief flooded their faces right away. They turned straight back to Liora.

Dinner got underway. The staff had laid out way more than my chili — king crab legs, lemon garlic seared scallops, all Liora's favorites.

"You're too thin," Father murmured, piling food onto her plate.

"Eat up. You'll need your strength for that leadership evaluation," Mother added, dabbing at her eyes again.

Ronan cut in with a grin. "Don't worry. If anyone on the board gives you grief, I'll sort it out."

Liora laughed, her golden hair glinting under the light. "No need. I've got it covered."

They laughed with her.

I ate silently. The warm chili couldn't touch the cold that had settled deep in my chest.

Then Mother looked over at me for the first time all night.

She hesitated, scooped a spoonful of chili, and dropped it onto my plate.

"Go on. Don't think we don't care about you just because we spoil Liora. I care about you too."

It sounded scripted, like a line she'd repeated a hundred times.

I stared at the food, then set my fork and knife down slowly. "No. I'm full."

Her face changed. First shocked, then annoyed. "What's wrong with you lately?"

She was about to keep going, when Liora suddenly grabbed her throat, eyes blown wide.

"Mom… I… I can't breathe—"

Her voice cracked, gasping. She stumbled back and knocked her chair over.

Panic ripped through the room. "Liora!" Mother shrieked.

"What's happening?!" Father shot to his feet so fast the table rattled.

Ronan was there in a heartbeat, leaning in to check her. "Something's wrong with her!"

My pulse hammered, not from fright, but the sharp, bitter irony of it.

Amid all the chaos, no one else could tell.

I stood stock-still, just watching.

She wasn't choking. She was faking it.