My head collided with the edge of the desk, causing a concussion and landing me in the hospital. Beckham George was overwhelmed with guilt, repeatedly apologizing in front of both sets of parents.

"Kiana, I'm really sorry. I was too impulsive; I should've handled things better."

"Please, this won't happen again. I truly only see Ruby as a sister. Don't misunderstand."

The George family's business dwarfed the Simmons', and my parents just glanced at me before siding with him.

"It's true. Beckham and Ruby grew up together; they're practically siblings. You're overreacting."

"If you hadn't stepped on Ruby's poster, Beckham wouldn't have hurt you in the chaos."

I lay in bed, my head swimming, unable to speak. All I could do was listen to the cascade of voices, and just like that, the matter was resolved.

After the parents left, Beckham squeezed my hand.

"Trust me, Ruby is only like a sister, no matter how great she seems. You are the one I love."

His sincerity made me start to doubt myself, questioning if I was being overly sensitive and irrational.

Just then, the hospital room door swung open, and Ruby dashed in, camera at the ready, aiming it at me.

"Sis, how are you? I hurried over as soon as I heard you were hurt..."

"I'm sorry, it's my fault. If I hadn't wanted to celebrate my birthday at home, Beckham wouldn't have panicked and hurt you..."

I was never comfortable with her constantly snapping pictures, especially now, when I looked like a wreck.

Beckham saw my discomfort and gestured for Ruby to put the camera away, admonishing me, "Kiana, it's not Ruby's fault. Even if you don't like her, you shouldn't show that on camera."

Ruby's eyes brimmed with tears, streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Sister, I didn't realize you disliked me so much... I'll leave now..."

With that, she spun around and bolted out, with Beckham calling her back, but quickly following her.

A nurse entered the room as I was quietly sobbing. Octavia Reyes watched, puzzled, while wiping away my tears. "Weren't there a bunch of people here just now? Why are you alone now?"

Unable to hold back, I pulled the blanket over my head and cried my heart out.

I spent that Thanksgiving in the hospital while the Simmons and Georges were at the city's largest banquet hall, celebrating Ruby's birthday. Her videos showed a day filled with endless influencers, celebrities, and the elite. She received a flood of gifts and well-wishes, with fans renting mall screens to broadcast worldwide birthday greetings.

All I got was a message from my adoptive parents, far away overseas.

"Nina must be having a fantastic birthday today, right? If you get a chance, send Mom and Dad a video."

But faced with the solitude of the hospital room, all I could muster was a weak "Thank you, Mom and Dad."

A few days later, upon discharge, I learned from the housekeeper that everyone had left for a world tour with Ruby.

Stunned, I texted my parents, who took half a day to respond.

"We forgot to mention; Ruby wanted a world tour, so we're accompanying her."

I called Beckham, who apologized for being too busy to notify me.

"Kiana, we'll be traveling for about six months. Don't worry, I'll bring you back lots of gifts."

"Hang in there, wait for me."

As my disappointment deepened, so did the disdain from the high-society crowd. Once, they pretended to be friendly because I was the Simmons' biological daughter, but now they favored Ruby and openly unleashed their cruelty on me.

They accused me of being a thief and purposely breaking my phone, publicly shaming me for my jealousy towards Ruby, saying I was an embarrassment to the Simmons.

Even the housekeepers played favorites, deciding my parents didn't care about me and collectively taking a six-month vacation.

Initially, I would cry to Beckham, but after a few comforting words, his patience wore thin. I swallowed the bitterness.

Meanwhile, Ruby posted dozens of updates daily on social media, with obligatory group photos.

Two weeks later, the hospital suddenly informed me I had heart disease, and without a transplant, I'd only have six months to live.

With the diagnosis in my hand, I crouched in the hospital hallway, sobbing for a long while.

Once I calmed down, the first person I called was Beckham. As soon as he answered, I spoke through tears, "Beckham, I'm sick. Can you come back and be with me?"

There was a brief pause, followed by a sigh from Beckham.

"Kiana, aren't you a bit too old to be pretending to be sick just for attention?"

In desperation, I exclaimed, "It's true. I'll send you my medical report!"

Beckham was silent, and I heard Ruby sigh regretfully through the phone.

"Let it go, Beck," she said gently. "Since Kiana's so concerned, you should go back and be with her. I can manage on my own."

His tone softened. "Don't say that. We promised to accompany you on this trip. We can't just leave you behind."

When he spoke to me again, his voice was disapproving. "I sent you a gift. Just focus on your work." He added, "We're worn out here. Don't call unless absolutely necessary." The call ended abruptly.

Ruby's message popped up on WhatsApp: "If you're smart, stop bothering Beck. We have a history you can't even imagine!" Before I could respond, she deleted the message.

Later, I checked her Instagram and saw she had posted a picture, cuddling up to Beckham with a bashful smile and flushed cheeks. "Beck says he's going to buy me a giant Winnie the Pooh bear. I'm too old for this, isn't it ridiculous?" His sparkling smile pierced my heart. At that moment, I realized he was truly slipping away from me.

I quit my job and checked myself into the hospital alone. Even though I tried not to be afraid, the unsettling results from the pre-operative tests chilled me to the core.

I couldn't eat dinner. Clutching my report, I called Beckham. It took him a while to answer. With a trembling voice, I said, "Beck, I'm really scared. Could you talk to me for a bit?"

He responded half-heartedly with a "Hmm," and I heard Ruby's laughter getting closer.

"Beck, why are you sitting down again? You promised to push me on the swing," she teased, acting surprised upon seeing his call. "Is it Kiana on the phone? Am I interrupting?"

"No, Kiana said she's scared," he replied with a gentle smile.

Ruby hesitated. "Do you think my sister is using her illness to ask for money?"

"My friends back home said they've seen her shopping at high-end stores. She might have burned through the money by now." Beckham's tone suddenly became stern. "So that's what you meant. No wonder you keep saying you're sick."

"Kiana, I know you weren't spoiled by your adoptive parents, but their money isn't limitless. You can't just spend recklessly. That's it, I'm going to tell them to temporarily cut off your card. You need to reflect on this."

The call was abruptly ended. When I tried calling back, his phone was off. My parents were unreachable too.

My heart started pounding painfully. The patient next to me urgently called a doctor, barely stabilizing my condition.

The next day, unexpectedly, Beckham called.

I thought he might have realized his mistake and was calling to apologize.

But when the video connected, I saw Ruby beside him, holding her phone.

"Sis, it's been ages! Did you receive the gift we sent you?" Her enthusiasm was unusual, as I fought my heart pain to borrow Neriah's phone to check her account.

Sure enough, she was livestreaming!

In the comments, seeing the hospital background, someone asked if I was sick.

With a sigh, Ruby said, "Don't blame my sister. If I hadn't replaced her parents, she wouldn't pretend to be sick for attention."

Beckham frowned. "Why bring that up again? It was a mix-up at birth, not your fault."

Laughs echoed in the comments, and Ruby stuck out her tongue playfully.

I bit my lip and showed him my medical report. "Beck, I have a heart condition. I need a transplant surgery, or else I'll..."

"Here we go again."

Suddenly, my mom's impatient voice cut through. I froze.

I'd kept my illness a secret from both my real parents and adoptive parents, not wanting them to worry. Never imagined they knew all along and even thought I was pretending!

Beckham sighed. "You're wasting your energy on these stories instead of focusing on your work. I heard you quit your job. Does being an Alvarez's daughter mean you don't need to work?"

Tears streamed down my face as I stared at the increasingly unfamiliar face on my phone, my voice cracking.

"Beckham, do you truly not believe me?"