Chapter 2

My parents sat in the center of the sofa. My brother Logan stood beside them with his head down, looking like a wilted eggplant.

My Aunt Lydia was sitting next to them, vividly recounting something to my mom. When she saw me enter, she immediately switched to a "devastated" expression.

"Phoebe, you're finally back!" Aunt Lydia rushed over first, grabbing my hand with tears in her eyes.

My mom joined in, looking distressed: "Phoebe, be honest with your mom. Was this your doing?"

Was it me? I quickly realized they wanted me to take the blame again.

At 12, Logan set the community's electric meter box on fire, and my parents had me take the blame, apologize, and get scolded.

At 15, Logan threw his classmate's backpack into water, ruining the latest tablet inside, and I got blamed for not teaching my brother properly.

At 17, Logan acted up during a hot pot meal, pouring a whole bottle of industrial alcohol, almost causing a manslaughter case, and my parents made me pull strings and spend a fortune to settle it.

I've always been Logan's personal scapegoat, on call 24/7, dealing with emergencies at my own expense.

But this time, I didn't want to be their blood bank anymore.

"Mom, what did I do?" I feigned confusion.

My dad coughed heavily, pointing at a piece of paper on the coffee table. It was a notice from the police station.

"Look for yourself! The police called, saying they need our cooperation for an investigation! The surveillance footage clearly shows someone throwing firecrackers into the manhole!"

"Dad, did the footage show who threw it?" I deliberately asked.

My mom, realizing I didn't want to admit to this black pot, immediately cried harder.

"Phoebe, your brother needs to take the civil service exam! If he has a criminal record, his life is over!"

Aunt Lydia chimed in, "Yes, Phoebe, you're the older sister, always so mature. Help your brother this time."

"Help him?" I raised an eyebrow, "How?"

My parents exchanged a glance. My mom cleared her throat and started babbling: "You see, Logan didn't show his face. The footage is dark; no one can tell who it is."

"Besides, you're the sister. Isn't it your duty to cover for your brother?" My mom said, giving me a look.

I almost laughed out loud. This familiar manipulative talk, I've heard it all my life, and it's still the same old song.

"Mom, you mean go to the police station and admit it was me who blew up the manhole?"

My parents nodded vigorously, and Aunt Lydia chimed in, "Phoebe, just say you were messing around. Young people make mistakes, right? Be polite, and maybe the police will go easy on you."

"Besides, once your brother becomes a civil servant, he'll be part of the state, unlike you who work a regular job. You need to understand what's best for our family." My dad frowned at me.

"Exactly, just say it was you. You don't need to take the civil service exam anyway." My mom quickly added.

Looking at them, a chill ran through my heart.

"And what about the repair costs? 2.8 million for the Cullinan, plus the other supercars, it's over six million, right? Who's paying?" I asked calmly.

My mom hesitated, stammering: "Well... well... doesn't insurance cover it?"

Aunt Lydia's eyes lit up, scooting over, "Yes, Phoebe, don't you work at an insurance company? You're a claims adjuster; you must have a way. Just help out, pull some strings, and have the insurance company cover it."

I couldn't believe my ears. They wanted me to abuse my position to commit insurance fraud?

"Aunt Lydia, what are you saying? Insurance claims follow a process. It's not up to me to decide. This is clearly human-caused damage. The insurance company won't cover it." I said coldly.

"Why can't they cover it? You're a claims adjuster. Can't you handle this little thing?" Aunt Lydia looked incredulous.

"Yeah, Phoebe, you're the most accomplished in our family, and you won't even help with this?" My mom started piling on the guilt.

Looking at them, it was both laughable and pathetic.

"You want me to take the blame and also fake claims to defraud the insurance company? You really think highly of me." I retorted sarcastically.

"Anyway, the situation is already out. What's one more blame? If you end up in jail, your brother, once he's a civil servant, can help you out." Aunt Lydia said, trying to mediate.

"Phoebe, didn't I buy your brother an accident insurance policy before? He got injured yesterday. You can also have the insurance company pay thirty or fifty thousand for his recovery."

I looked at them coldly, saying nothing, feeling utterly disheartened.

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