Chapter 3

On my college graduation day, nobody came to watch me walk the stage.

I stood by the lawn in my cap and gown, snapped a selfie, and posted it to my feed.

Two minutes later, Claire left a like and a comment: *So proud of you, Stella! Do your parents know?*

I didn't respond.

After graduation, I secured a full-time role at the media company as a content strategist. The pay wasn't lavish, but it was steady, reliable, and completely mine.

By my third year, several long-form articles I penned went viral across major platforms. The company promoted me to Content Director and doubled my base salary.

That was the exact same year Luna slunk back home.

She never finished her degree at the prestigious university, nor did she finish anything abroad.

According to Claire, Luna bounced between three different colleges overseas in two years, flunked every semester, and was ultimately expelled. Before boarding her flight back, she maxed out two credit cards Richard had given her, racking up over thirty thousand dollars in high-interest debt.

Richard and Brenda had to sell their small rental property just to settle the balance.

Back home, Luna moved into the three-bedroom condo—the only property my parents had left. She refused to look for work, ordering expensive takeout and playing video games all day.

I heard about all this while working late at the office. A coworker asked what made me smile at my screen; I flipped my phone facedown and said it was nothing.

That winter, I received my first text message from Brenda in four years.

"Stella, your sister isn't doing well. Come home and see her."

I ignored it.

She sent another: "She’s your sister after all. Let the past stay in the past."

I stared at the glowing screen for a long time, typed out a single word: *Busy.*

Then I blocked that number, too.

Six months later, Richard reached out. He called from a new number, ringing directly through the front desk of my company.

"Stella, it’s your father. Your mother's heart is acting up. She’s in the hospital. Come see her."

"Which hospital?"

"City Central. Call me when you get here."

I took a half-day off and drove back to my hometown. In the cardiology ward of City Central, Brenda was leaning comfortably against her pillows, scrolling on her phone. Her cheeks were rosy, and her bedside table was packed with fresh cherries and imported chocolates.

"Mom, what’s wrong with your heart?"

Brenda looked up, sizing me up from head to toe.

"You look skinny. Career not going well?"

"I’m doing fine."

"Fine? What’s fine about it? Your sister spent so much studying abroad, and the family is bleeding dry. You’ve been working for years—you must have fifty or sixty grand saved up by now. Hand it over so we can put down a deposit on an apartment for Luna. She’s getting married."

I looked at her, suddenly finding the whole scene utterly absurd.

"I thought you were dying of a heart condition."

Brenda blinked, caught off guard, then coughed twice into her fist. "That’s beside the point! Your sister’s wedding is what matters! As her older sister, aren't you going to contribute?"

I turned on my heel and walked out.

Richard chased after me into the hallway, shouting, "Stella, stop right there! Your mother is sick in bed and you’re just going to walk away?"

I didn't even look back.

Walking out through the hospital doors, I looked up at the sky. The winter sun was pale and weak, offering no warmth.

I stood on the sidewalk for a moment, hailed a cab, and headed straight back to the train station.

Sitting on the waiting bench, my mind drifted back to that night six years ago. The same icy air, the same isolation. But back then, I was clutching an acceptance letter that had been burned to ash, along with that wretched *Family Resource ROI Evaluation Matrix*.

My phone buzzed. A voice note from Claire.

"Stella, your mother called me, begging me to convince you to buy an apartment for Luna. I told her to get lost. Oh, and did you know? Your mother actually framed that old rating sheet and hung it in the living room. She shows it to guests, bragging about her 'scientific parenting.' Now Luna fights with her every single day. Brenda slaps the frame and yells, 'Your sister was rated D, and you were rated S! You were supposed to be the successful one!' It makes Luna smash things in rage."

I texted back two words: *Poetic justice.*