They treated me like I mattered—like Cindy.
Cindy and I were close, like actual sisters.
But something shifted. I don’t know what she said or did, but soon, their smiles faded. Disappointment crept in. Eventually, they stopped noticing me at all.
Then came the “kidnapping” she staged five years ago.
She had me taken, then faked a dramatic rescue—pretending to get hurt, acting unstable.
And just like that, they were sold. To them, I became cold and selfish, and Cindy was the brave, broken hero.
At first, I was crushed with guilt. Grateful, even.
I gave her whatever she wanted. Let her take it all. Even when she snapped during those so-called depressive spells, I stayed calm. I comforted her.
Then one day, our parents were out and I was making her lunch. She looked at me, all smug, and said it straight:
“The kidnapping? My idea. I wanted them to think you owed me—forever.”
She grinned like it was a game. Said she’d take every drop of love they had for me.
After that, I couldn’t even look at her the same. I tried to tell our parents, over and over, but they never believed me.
And every time they brushed me off, Cindy just smiled.
“Vivian, from now on, you don’t have a mom or dad anymore.”
And she was right. Her plan worked.
I lost them. All over again.
***
“Mr. Vallance, Mrs. Vallance, Vivian already made the soup,” Andrew’s voice cut in, snapping me out of my head.
Dad’s anger melted fast, replaced by that smug approval.
“Vivian, you’ve finally grown up. Sisters should love each other. That’s what keeps a family strong.”
I smiled. “I won’t fight with Cindy anymore.
“Oh, and Dad—Cindy couldn’t finish her graduation project, right? She can use mine. I don’t mind.”
His grin widened. “That’s the spirit. That’s what being a big sister means.”
Mom nodded, all pleased. “Come to the hospital with us. Cindy’s gonna be thrilled.”
I kept smiling. Soft. Sweet.
“Sure. You guys go ahead. I’ll change and grab her a little cake first.”
They left, all happy.
I turned, went upstairs.
Five minutes later, I walked out of that house—the one I’d called home for ten years—and never looked back.
