I'm the second child of the family. Because of that, I'm also the one everyone neglects by nature.

The birthdays of my older brother, Joe Thompson, and my younger sister, Lyra Thompson, are jotted down on the calendar by my parents. But they always fail to remember my own birthday.

Joe and Lyra often have new clothes to wear, whereas my parents keep forgetting to buy new clothes for me.

Heck, Joe and Lyra often receive holiday gifts! Meanwhile, my parents never bother giving me anything during the holidays.

In fact, when we're traveling back to our hometown, my parents end up ditching me at a deserted highway rest stop when the temperature is extremely low…

When I came out of the restroom at the rest stop, I saw my brother, Joe Thompson, and my sister, Lyra Thompson, getting into the car. I rushed after them, but before I could reach it, the car started and drove away.

I ran after it in a panic, shouting, "Dad! Mom! I am still outside!"

The car took a turn and merged into traffic, disappearing from sight in the blink of an eye.

I stared in the direction where it vanished. My lips trembled as I whispered, "Dad, Mom, I am still here…"

The words were as faint as a wisp of smoke. They barely left my mouth before the biting cold wind tore them apart and scattered them across the empty rest stop.

In the next instant, the last trace of shock and protest in my chest was smothered by a cold numbness.

I slowly withdrew my gaze and looked around. The massive rest stop was terrifyingly quiet. Under the dim yellow streetlights, the sky looked washed out and pale, with not a single person in sight.

In the distance, cars roared past on the highway. Headlights stretched into blurred streaks of light, but not one car stopped for me.

I didn't dare wander off. My feet felt rooted to the ground, as if filled with lead, and I clung to a fragile sliver of hope.

Maybe Mom and Dad hadn't gone far. Maybe they would realize I wasn't in the car and come right back for me.

I clenched the hem of my clothes and stared at the intersection where the car had disappeared, wishing over and over for that familiar white sedan to reappear.

It grew colder. The chill seeped into my bones, freezing me from the inside out.

My toes were numb, slowly losing all sensation.

My cheeks were red and aching from the wind. Tears gathered in my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall.

I knew that even if I cried, no one would come to comfort me.

Unable to endure the cutting wind any longer, I turned and shuffled back toward the restroom. At least it could block the wind better than the open air.

Inside the silent restroom, the only sounds were my faint breathing and the howling wind outside.

All the grievances I had forced myself to ignore surged up like a rising tide and swallowed me whole.

I remembered when the whole family forgot my birthday last year.

Mom didn't remember until she saw the calendar three days later. She quickly made me a simple egg sandwich and added a small piece of cheese. "This is to make up for your birthday. Hurry and eat," she said, still watching the TV.

When Joe had his birthday, the whole family went to his favorite amusement park. His custom cake even had the words "Our Pride" written on it.

Lyra had an even grander celebration. Her entire kindergarten class was invited, and the gifts piled up like a small mountain.

Growing up, Joe was celebrated for his brilliance, hailed as the family's future pillar, while Lyra was adored as the heart of our happiness.

And me?

"Danny is very well behaved and never causes trouble."

That was my label, like a faint pattern on wallpaper. It existed, but no one ever really noticed it.

I had no idea how long I sat there in the restroom. The warmth in my body slowly faded, and the cold crept back in.

Just as I was about to lose consciousness from the cold, I heard soft footsteps outside the door.

My heart jolted. I instantly forced myself awake and looked up, my eyes locked on the doorway. Was it Mom and Dad?

Had they finally realized I was missing and come back for me?

The door creaked open, but the one who walked in was a stranger in a thick down coat.

The light in my eyes dimmed at once, and a faint, self-mocking smile tugged at my lips. I had overthought it again.

When the man saw me, he froze in surprise.

He probably didn't expect to find a little boy sitting alone in such a remote rest stop restroom.

He looked me over from head to toe, then asked gently, "Hey, kid, are you here by yourself? Where are your parents?"

At the word "parents", my nose tingled. I fought back the tears welling in my eyes and rasped, "Sir, my mom and dad left me here. Can I borrow your phone to call them?"

At my words, a look of concern crossed his face. He quickly pulled out his phone from his pocket and handed it to me, urging, "Go on, call them quick. It's so cold out here, so don't freeze yourself."

I took the phone. Since my fingers were stiff from the cold, I fumbled over the buttons and misdialed several times. At last, I got the home number right, drew in a sharp breath, and hit the dial button.

The busy signal pulsed in my ear, sending waves of anxious hope through me. When it ended, there was still no answer.

My hand holding the phone trembled slightly, and the small thread of hope inside me grew colder.

The man watched me quietly and said, "Don't worry. Maybe the signal's bad. Try again."

I nodded and hit the redial button once more. I pressed the phone to my ear and prayed that this time, I would hear my parents' voices.

The waiting tone dragged on endlessly, and my breathing rose and fell in time with it.

On the seventh beep, someone finally answered. My mother's voice came through, muffled by the wind and music from the car, "Hello?"

All the fear and hurt I had held back now choked my throat. My voice came out hoarse and shaky. "Mom, I didn't get in the car. You forgot me at the rest stop."

Before I could get another word out, Mom's impatient voice came crashing over me. "No way! I made sure everyone was good to go before we left. Your brother and sister confirmed it. How could we have left you behind?"

A brief silence followed on the other end of the line. I imagined Mom glancing back at the seats. Those few seconds of quiet cut deeper than the cold wind ever could. I had expected fear, guilt, or any hint that she realized her mistake, yet what came instead was a cutting reprimand.

"Why didn't you say something earlier? Didn't you think to shout for us? Why wait until the car is already gone to call and cause trouble?"

Her cold words pierced the last thread of hope I had.

I bit my lip hard, forcing back the tears threatening to spill. Still, my voice quivered despite myself. "I did! I ran and shouted, but you didn't hear me. The car just turned and drove away."

My protest seemed to catch Mom off guard. The silence was brief before she found another reason to scold me. "That's just because you were slow! We told you to hurry, and you dawdled.

"We've passed the toll station now. We can't just turn around on the highway. How are we supposed to pick you up?"

Then, Joe's teasing and indifferent voice came through the line, "Well, whose fault is it that he's slow? I even tried to hurry him, but he dragged his feet. Serves him right."

I clenched the phone until my knuckles went white, feeling both anger and hurt overwhelm me. Joe had stolen my spot in line, leaving me to start again, and now he was shifting the blame onto me.

Lyra's childish yet sharp voice came next, dripping with spoiled insistence. "Mom, Dad, I don't want to go back! I want to rush to Grandma's and eat a drumstick!"

Just as I was about to burst into tears, Dad's deep voice came through the phone.

There was no warmth in it, only a detached sense of order. "Enough. Stop making a fuss. Your uncle is driving back to Grandma's house today, and he's taking the same route as us. Stay at that rest stop, and don't wander off. When he gets there, ride back with him."

"But Dad, I don't remember Uncle Ben's car. When are they—"

Before I could finish, all I heard in the receiver was the cold, busy signal.

I stood there, holding the phone.

Finally, the tears I had been holding back fell, splashing onto the icy phone screen.

The man beside me watched quietly and gently patted my shoulder. He sighed and said, "Don't be sad, kid. How about you come with me for now? You can call your parents from my place. Once you get off the highway, it won't be far. Otherwise, I could drive you a bit, but it's not exactly on my way."

I thought of my parents' impatient tone and shook my head, refusing the offer. "No, thank you, sir. My parents told me that my uncle will be here soon. I'll wait for him right here."

It was the holidays, and I knew they wouldn't want to turn back to pick me up again. My uncle, Ben Thompson, wasn't close to me normally, and asking him to go out of his way would definitely annoy him.

The man looked like he had more to say, but his phone buzzed in his pocket, likely someone reminding him to hurry.

He gave me a worried look, handed me a few neatly wrapped chocolates from his pocket, and went back to the car to grab a small beige blanket, which he wrapped around my shoulders.

"This should help keep you warm. Eat a bit of chocolate so you don't get too hungry. If no one shows up soon, find someone else to borrow a phone from, but don't wander off."

I nodded and choked out, "Thank you, sir."

He disappeared quickly through the doorway, leaving the rest stop empty and silent again. The cold wind still seeped in.

My stomach rumbled. I unwrapped a piece of chocolate and bit off a tiny piece. I didn't want to eat it all at once, so I carefully folded the rest and put it in my pocket, thinking I could rely on it if the wait dragged on.

I pulled the blanket tighter around me and hugged my clothes closer. Beneath it, I was wearing Joe's old sweater from last year. The collar was loose and worn, and the sleeves were fraying.

Joe had outgrown it, and Mom said I could wear it. Joe himself wore a new gray suit this year with a blue bow tie, looking like a little prince. Lyra's pink down jacket was brand new too, making her look like a little princess.

And me? I wore Joe's hand-me-downs, looking like a dull, gray shadow.

Fearing that Uncle Ben could pass by without seeing me, I clenched my teeth and stepped out of the restroom, bracing myself against the biting wind. The streetlights flickered dimmer, and the sky was growing darker.

Far off, the sky turned deep gray, and a few snowflakes began to fall, melting instantly on my hair and shoulders into cold little patches of water.

I stared toward the road where the car would come, stamping my numb feet and rubbing my frozen hands inside the blanket, silently praying that Uncle Ben would arrive soon.

As one car after another sped past, their headlights blinded me, yet not a single one stopped at the rest stop.

The snow grew heavier, piling a thin layer on the blanket. I wrapped it tighter around myself. The chocolate's sweetness had long faded, leaving only anxiety and cold.

I had no idea how long I would have to wait or if Uncle Ben would even remember to come. I just felt the subzero wind stiffening my whole body in the empty rest stop.

Time stretched endlessly in the cold and hunger. Under the streetlight, my hands and feet had long lost sensation, leaving only a bone-deep numbness.

At first, I shivered from the cold, but now, I barely had the strength to even shake. A strange, suffocating ache spread through me. My head throbbed under a crushing pressure, and I couldn't even lift it.