Eight years ago, Sherie Emerson, the girl my parents adopted, stabbed someone to death.

Yet my parents made sure I took the fall.

The victim's family stood outside our house, waving blood-stained letters and screaming for my life in exchange.

My parents and my older brother, Osmond Emerson, knelt before me and begged, "Sher is still young. She can't go to prison... You're her big sister. Take the fall for her."

I refused and fought back, desperately trying to prove my innocence.

But the next day, they handed me over to the police.

The moment the news spread, my admission to a prestigious university was rescinded.

And my fiancé, Harold Lloyd, a formidable business magnate, made sure everything was set.

He pulled every string he could to leave me with nowhere to run.

Before I went to prison, he made me a promise.

"Sandy, I know the next eight years will be hell, but the day you walk out, I'm marrying you."

***

Eight years had passed by.

"Sandra Emerson, clean up your act after your release and be a better person. Don't go down that road again."

I took a worn canvas bag from the prison guard and listlessly climbed into an old, battered van.

Afraid my appearance would ruin Sherie's piano recital, my parents and Harold arranged for the shabbiest van they could find to pick me up.

Los Angeles cheered for the brilliant pianist, but no one remembered the innocent girl who'd been behind bars for eight years.

Once we reached downtown, the van stopped.

I immediately spotted Harold, seated in his limited-edition Rolls-Royce, his expression cold and unreadable.

"Thank you for doing that for Sher. I'll marry you as I promised."

Expressionless, I nodded slightly and got in the car.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window—my face was gaunt, and a scar ran across it from end to end.

Harold was stunned when he saw it. "Sandy, what happened to—"

Before he could finish, his phone rang.

Osmond's name flashed on the screen.

Seeing this, I felt nothing at all.

"Sandy, I'm sorry. Something's happened to Sher," Harold said.

"She developed PTSD after the accident six months ago. She found out you were coming back today and had another breakdown. Your parents and Osmond are all at the hospital—I have to go."

Watching Harold hurriedly start the car, I got out without a word.

He paused, rolled down the window, and looked at my scarred face.

"I'll have someone take you back to the Emerson's residence. I'll also find a top plastic surgeon to fix your face."

After eight years of torment and all those cold stares in prison, I finally realized one thing—they never loved me.

I'd stopped hoping, and I no longer wanted to marry Harold.

***

Twenty years ago, when Mom and Dad took me to visit Grandma in the countryside, I was taken away.

My parents were devastated. Three years later, they adopted an abandoned girl from that village and named her Sherie.

Even her name started with the same letter as mine.

I was brought back when I was fourteen, but no one really cared. All they wanted was for me to adore Sherie and give her everything.

Eight years ago, they made me take the blame, saying I was dull and untalented, and losing my college admission didn't matter anyway.

They all ignored me, even Harold.

Compared to Sherie, I felt like I was the one who'd been adopted.

Soon, I got home.

A new set of maids now staffed the house. They treated me with indifference, their eyes filled with disdain.

I wasn't the cherished daughter of the family, so I didn't deserve their respect.

"Ms. Sandra, the incident eight years ago severely damaged the family's reputation. So Mr. and Mrs. Emerson want you to stay in the storage room. Don't go out and embarrass the family."

They didn't know the truth. I didn't blame them. I just found their snobbery laughable.

As for my family, I'd stopped expecting anything from them long ago.

I'd served Sherie's sentence for eight years, and they all thought it was only right. Even now, they wouldn't let me go.

"Got it."

I pushed open the door to the storage room. The place was overwhelmed with clutter, and dust coated every surface.

But I was too tired to clean it up. So I just collapsed onto the bed.

In just a few hours, I was jolted awake by nightmares over and over again.

Half-asleep, half-awake, I heard my older brother Osmond's voice cursing outside.

"Why did she have to come back? She's a jinx—Sher got sick the moment she showed up. Should've let her rot in prison, never let her out."

Mom sighed, saying nothing.

Dad spoke up, "No matter what, she's still part of this family. If the media catches her wandering the streets, it'll be a disgrace for all of us."

Osmond shrugged. "I don't care. You have to get rid of her. Sher's health comes first!"

He was so protective of Sherie, as if he'd forgotten I was his real sister.

With one sentence, Mom decided my fate. "When Sher gets back, keep Sandy in the storage room. Don't let her out and upset Sher."

I thought I'd stopped expecting anything from them, but hearing that still stung.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was Octavia Perkins, the head of the Sculpture Area at the University of California.

"Sandy, how have you been? I've waited for you for eight years. I hope you still remember me."

Octavia had always been like a mother to me. Her voice awakened the grief I'd carried for years, and tears poured out.

We'd met during a volunteer event at an orphanage.

Octavia admired my sculptures, felt for me as I worked my way through school, and treated me like her own child.

When I was set to enter the University of California on a scholarship, Octavia wanted me under her wing to study and grow with her guidance.

But before I could enroll, my scholarship was revoked, and I was forced to stay in prison for eight years.

Octavia never believed the news reports from back then. Even now, after my release, she's the first to reach out and care for me.

She still sees me as her child.

Without hesitation, I messaged Octavia back, telling her I wanted to keep learning from her.

"Don't worry, Sandy. Your talent is unmatched. As long as you want it, my door is always open.

"In half a month, I'll come get you myself. I want to see you shine in the world of sculpture!"

All the pain and injustice of the past eight years seemed to pour out in tears that wouldn't stop.

Half a month...

I counted the days in my mind.

Just hold on for two more weeks, and I could leave this cold, heartless place for good.

In half a month, I could finally start a brand-new life...

The next morning, I was jolted awake by a flurry of noise.

After a sleepless night, I pushed open the door, my head aching fiercely.

The house looked like it was set up for a party.

Sherie was perched on the couch in a custom-made designer dress, a limited-edition brooch gleaming on her chest, basking in everyone's affection.

Dad, Mom, my brother, and my fiancé were all gathered around her, showering her with attention.

Osmond carefully carried out a cake.

"Welcome home from the hospital, Sher! I stayed up all night baking this just for you. I hope you like it."

The others chimed in, their voices full of cheer. "Welcome back, Sher!"

"Oz's cakes are always the best! Thank you all for bringing me home. Did you get me any presents to celebrate?"

Mom beamed at her, her eyes loving. "Sher, you're so smart!"

She pulled out a rare diamond watch and fastened it around Sherie's wrist herself.

The others followed suit, each presenting their own gifts.

"Sher, this is Prof. Perkins's final sculpture. I pulled a lot of strings to get it for you—I hope you like it!"

Harold offered his gift with a look of deep affection.

Happiness sparkled in Sherie's eyes.

It was then that she spotted me, standing quietly in the corner.

"Sandy, I was in the hospital yesterday and couldn't pick you up. Please don't be mad, okay?"

Harold glanced my way. "You're Sandy's sister. She would never be upset with you."

"Sandy, come join us. Let's celebrate Sher coming home together!"

Looking at Sherie, so smug and self-satisfied, I found myself at a loss for words.

"Hmph, just what you'd expect from someone raised in the sticks—no manners at all. Your sister's out of the hospital and you can't even say congratulations?"

Mom rolled her eyes, but they all seemed to forget that today was my birthday, too.

The reason Mom and Dad adopted Sherie in the first place was that she and I shared the same birthday.

"It's okay, Mom," Sherie said, immediately putting on a pitiful face. "I don't blame Sandy. After all, she took the fall for me. I have no right to hold anything against her.

"Sandy, could you give me a present too? Let's call it making peace.

"Sandy, I want Harry. Why don't you let me have him?"

Her provocation was blatant, and no one saw anything wrong with it—they all just stared at me, waiting.

"No."

With someone like her, I couldn't even pretend to be polite.

For a moment, her eyes filled with tears.

"Sandy, I'm sorry. I was just joking with you! I apologize, really."

Mom shot me a glare, then gently stroked Sherie's hair. "Don't be upset, Sher. Sandy's always been selfish and petty. Don't worry, you're my precious girl."

Dad, Osmond, and Harold all jumped in to praise her, each trying to outdo the last.

Harold even turned to scold me.

"Sher was only joking. Did you really have to make such a big deal out of it?!"

"Sandra, you've really disappointed me!"

So this is what it means to be Mom's precious daughter.

Looking at the family united against me, I let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh. There was no point in feeling sad anymore.

"I haven't seen the outside world in eight years. I'm going out for a walk."

With that, I turned to leave.

Dad suddenly tossed a face mask at me. "Cover up—don't embarrass us."

I gave a self-deprecating smile, but still pulled the mask over my face.

Just two more weeks—just two more weeks and I'd see Octavia.

Just two more weeks and I'd have a new life. I could endure this. I just had to make sure nothing went wrong.

After leaving the Emerson's residence, I took the bus to a run-down neighborhood in the city.

A high school dropout with a criminal record—this was the only place I could find work as a waitress.

The job was filthy, chaotic, and the customers could be downright nasty, but at least it came with room and board.

Mom and Dad never included me at their table.

Since I returned to them at 14, they'd given me a total of 150 dollars.

Even when I asked for tuition, they just frowned.

"People from the town are always greedy and selfish. All you do is ask for money."

After that, I never asked again.

Over the years, I jumped at every dirty, exhausting job I could find.

As long as I could pay my tuition and keep myself fed, nothing else mattered.

Harold used to be my light.

He'd get into fights with bullies for me, sneak me out for good food, and always found ways to slip me some cash.

His gaze toward me was always gentle, full of concern.

That was why I trusted him unconditionally. So when I learned he was seriously ill, I didn't hesitate—I gave him one of my kidneys.

I had two kidneys anyway. As long as I could save him, I didn't care about the rest...

But the moment he pulled strings to make sure I got a heavy sentence and joined forces with my family to cover for Sherie, I was done with him.

Just ten more days, and I'd never have to see any of them again. No one would ever hurt me again...

For now, I numbly worked as a waitress in the run-down neighborhood.

One day, I heard the news on TV—the Emerson family's heiress was engaged to the heir of the Lloyd family.

I stared at the screen in disbelief.

My family and the Lloyd family had been close for generations. Harold and I had been engaged since childhood, and even after I went missing, they never broke it off.

They'd even promised that once I was found, the engagement would still stand.

Looking back now, I realize I shouldn't have believed in their love all these years.

That night, as soon as I pushed open the Emerson's residence's front door, I saw the whole family waiting for me, faces grim.

Mom spoke with finality, "Sher was injured in the accident. Only Harold can help her recover. Give up your engagement. I'll find you a better man someday."

Dad nodded in agreement.

"As the older sister, you should make sacrifices for your little sister. Stop competing with her over everything. Be generous."

Was Harold just some object to be handed over? I gave a bitter laugh.

My room, my backpack, even my favorite kitten... everything always ended up with Sherie, even if she only wanted it for a moment.

I'll never forget how happy my kitten was playing with me, or the sight of it crushed under Sherie's car.

I looked at Harold, silent in the corner, and asked quietly, "Is this what you think too?"

He glanced at me, guilt written all over his face. "For Sher's safety, this is the only way. Sandy, you don't mind, do you?"

"So you've already made your decision. You're just informing me, aren't you?"

Expressionless, I just wanted to return to my messy, dirty little storage room—my only place in this house.

But Osmond blocked my way, furious.

"Sandra! How can you be so petty? Sher's sick, and you've been to prison. You're not good enough for Harold."

"Sandy," Harold grabbed my hand, "I never thought you weren't good enough for me. I'll stay with Sher for a while, and once she's stable, we'll get married, okay?"

"She gave up a kidney for me back then—I can't just abandon her. Don't overthink it..."

It felt like someone had slammed me in the head. I was so dizzy I could barely stand.

I was the one who gave up my kidney—how did it become Sherie's?

I stared straight at him. "Are you sure the kidney you got was hers, and not mine?"

My words cut through the silence, sharp and jarring.

Dad slammed the table, roaring, "Sandra, what are you getting at? Everyone knows it was your sister's sacrifice, and now you want to steal her credit?

"After everything we taught you, how could you turn out so deceitful?"

I knew Dad didn't believe me, but seeing the disappointment in Harold's eyes, I suddenly stopped caring.

I didn't bother explaining. I just slipped back into my storage room, alone.

It didn't matter. In five days, Octavia would come for me. I would always be her pride and joy.

The next day, Osmond showed up at the little food stall where I worked, tossing a bank card onto the table.

"The password is the day Sher was brought home—the same day you went missing. You remember it, don't you?"

When I didn't take it, he forced it into my hand. "You need to get your face fixed. Don't embarrass us at Sher's wedding.

"And for the record, the family's been sending you living expenses every month all these years. No need to play the victim just to get our attention."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Money? I've never seen a cent. If I had cash, why would I have spent these years groveling, taking the dirtiest jobs?"

Osmond froze, a flicker of doubt crossing his face, but he couldn't figure out what went wrong.

"Don't expect any sympathy from me." With that, he walked off in disgust.

Sherie and Harold's wedding was set for the day before Octavia was coming to take me away.

Sherie went out of her way to organize a friend's gathering.

The stall was closed that day, and before I could slip away, a crowd burst in.

"Sandra, you work here too?"

A group of privileged young men and women surrounded the soon-to-be newlyweds, and when they spotted me, their voices dripped with mockery.

"Weren't you always trailing after Harold back in the day? Did you know he'd end up your brother-in-law, so you tried to cozy up early?"

"Well, since Harold lost the game, how about a sweet goodbye kiss?"

Every word was a jab, treating me like a joke. All I wanted was for Harold to let me be.

"But I'll get jealous!"

Sherie pouted, clinging to Harold's arm.

"Then Sher should be the one to kiss him instead!"

In the crowd, Harold's gaze seemed to find me. I kept my face blank and quietly slipped away.

The cheers and laughter echoed behind me—I knew they'd kissed, lost in each other.

At least Harold hadn't humiliated me.

They were having the time of their lives; even from my storeroom upstairs, the shouts and applause downstairs reached me.

"I think Sher and Harold are a perfect match."

"Of course! Remember when Sher ran into those thugs and Harold swooped in to rescue her?"

"Yeah, and Sher was so grateful, she carved a sculpture for him and won a gold medal!"

"And don't forget, Sher even donated a kidney to Harold!"

***

What were they talking about?

Back when I was found, I was timid and bullied by those thugs every day—Harold was protecting me.

The award-winning sculpture was mine.

The kidney that saved him was mine, too...

When did all those memories become Harold and Sherie's love story?

"Sandy, don't worry, I'll always protect you.

"Sandy, your carving is amazing—I'm so touched!

"Sandy, we'll be together forever!

"Sandy, I love you.

"Sandy..."

The Harold who, at 16, promised to love me and protect me forever was gone.

He disgusted me now, even more than those bullies ever did. I couldn't forgive him—just as I couldn't stop loving him back then.

That night, the sky above Los Angeles was filled with drones spelling out three words—I love you.

Harold did it for Sherie.

A text from Harold popped up on my phone.

"Sandy, Sher saved my life, but you're the one I've always loved. Wait for me, okay?"

I deleted the message. Tomorrow, I'd finally be free...

I returned to the storeroom and changed into the only decent outfit I had left—a tracksuit from the day I was brought home. I didn't want to meet Octavia looking like a wreck.

Sitting at the desk, I pulled out my faded old journal.

"August 5, 2012. I finally escaped and called the police. Mom and Dad brought me home. Now I have a brother and a sister, and I don't have to live in fear anymore. Oz gave me a beautiful notebook. I'm going to keep writing in it."

"December 28, 2012. Sher came home and said she didn't want to share a room with me. Dad told me to stay in the storeroom for a couple of days while he set up a new room for me. It's okay. I understand Sher. I'll be nicer to her so she'll accept me."

"February 25, 2013. I wanted to go back to school, but Dad said all I ever did was ask for money. I tried working, but the boss cheated me."

***

The last entry was from August 2017, just a week before I was sentenced. There was only one line.

"They never loved me at all!"

I took a deep breath, picked up my pen, and wrote my final words.

"July 29, 2025.

"Mom and Dad, I'm leaving. You can just pretend I'm dead.

"I never understood—if you didn't love me, if you already had another daughter, why did you bother looking for me and bringing me home?

"Am I even your biological child? In these eight years, did you ever think of me, ever worry about me?

"Why did you have me at all?

"Osmond, my dear brother.

"I've never spent a cent from the card you gave me. The money is still in the drawer.

"I wonder if you remember—I'm the one who's actually related to you by blood.

"But it doesn't matter. I'm leaving now. I don't care anymore."

The last words were for Harold.

"Harold, I finally don't love you anymore.

"There's no way I could ever fall for this stranger you've become. Like you told me when you were 16—if the man you grew up to be ever hurt me, don't forgive him. The person you are now isn't you, and I don't love you anymore.

"Congratulations on your marriage to Sherie.

"Goodbye forever."

I placed the bank card, my prison intake medical report, and a photo on the desk.

The report clearly stated I was missing a kidney, and the photo showed the ugly scar on my side.

After I finished, a message from Octavia popped up.

I rushed downstairs without hesitation, running straight toward my new life.