I glared at them coldly. "If it's so hard for you, then don't pay for my school! I don't even want to study! I know, I'll quit school immediately. You can pay for Steven's tuition instead. How about that?"

Mom looked at me, hurt, and approached cautiously, "Your brother dropped out of middle school and has already fallen far behind. Yvonne, you're Mom and Dad's pride. We only want you to be happy. Please don't be so willful."

Steven helped Dad with his wound, his face reddening with fury. "Are you trying to make us mad on purpose?! If you're sick in the head, go see a doctor! I don't want a sister like you! Let's sever ties officially. From now on, you're no longer part of our family!"

My brother grabbed my bag, ripped out a sheet of white paper, and wrote on it with a pen.

After he was done, he walked up to me and slapped the disowning agreement on my forehead, glaring at me fiercely.

I burst out laughing.

"A disowning agreement? Fine, I don't want to be family with people like you anyway. The thought of having a family like you people makes me sick. I hope you guys suffer."

I picked up the pen from the ground to sign the paper, but Mom rushed over, hugged my waist and wetted my hand with her tears.

"Yvonne, your brother is just confused. Don't listen to him. You can't sign that!"

Dad, tears running down his pale cheeks, knelt before me, slapping himself hard.

"Yvonne, I apologize to you, okay? I don't know what I did to make you upset… You can hit me or yell at me, I don't mind… But please, don't disown us. We love you. If you're still angry… I'll let you vent. You can take it out on me."

He took out a knife, trembling, and put it in my hand, gesturing to cut off his thumb.

Mom cried, urging me not to, since he's my father.

She recalled countless things from the past in front of everyone.

She recalled how good they had been to me over the years.

Back in elementary school, my brother got a perfect score and excitedly brought it home to show Mom and Dad.

Dad was too engrossed in smoking in the yard to look up. Mom was busy cooking for me in the kitchen, so she just gave a perfunctory nod and told him not to be too arrogant.

Then, I also came home.

I scored in the 80s in every subject in the final exam.

Dad was moved to tears, saying I was born to be a scholar.

Mom picked me up and spun me around, showering kisses on my left cheek. "Oh, my dear, you're amazing! Scoring in the 80s means there's room for improvement. Come, try the ravioli I made for you! It's your reward!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steven awkwardly picking at his fingers.

That kind of favoritism happened many times in our lives.

In middle school, my brother wanted to take a chess lesson. He begged Dad to sign him up since his friends were joining.

Without hesitation, Dad tore the registration form to pieces and scattered them on my brother's face. "You little brat, already wasting my money at such a young age!"

"Your sister will be going to high school soon, and there are plenty of expenses. You should drop out and work to earn money to support her."

The sky that day was gray, just like today.

Steven ran out crying, cursing me for being a demon who stole Mom and Dad's love.

I touched my face and saw tears sparkling in my hands.

Later, I searched for Steven for two whole days but couldn't find him.

When Mom found me, she sighed in relief. "Don't worry about your brother, Yvonne. He's a good boy, he won't run off. Let's go home. What if bad people catch you?"

Dad took me home on his bicycle.

My brother's room was emptied, the walls painted pink, and a new desk and lamp were bought.

Mom served steaming roasted pork and freshly stewed ribs.

"Surprise! We prepared this for you."

Seeing Dad's frostbitten hands and Mom's bent posture, my nose felt stuffy, and my breath caught.

My brother eventually returned home.

He didn't have any complaints. Although he liked studying, he obeyed Mom and Dad and dropped out.

On weekends, he would sneak to my school to see me, bringing me little snacks.

It felt like there was no unhappiness between us despite our parents' blatant favoritism.

I studied hard.

I was afraid to relax, fearing I would disappoint my family.

After the SAT scores were released this year, I immediately called Mom with the new iPhone she bought me.

"Mom, I'm the top scorer in the state! I got into MIT!"

Mom's voice on the other end of the line trembled with emotion. "Good, good! Honey, Yvonne got into MIT! I knew our Yvonne would be successful."

That afternoon, they sent me photos in the family group chat, showing me a pink birthday cake, an exquisite doll, and a long birthday letter from my brother.

Yet I felt no waves in my heart.

I didn't want to keep pretending anymore.

I was so tired.

I wished they would die.

My little brother, eyes bloodshot, veins bulging on his forehead, pulled back his fist and punched me, but I easily dodged.

I looked down at him as he stumbled and fell to the floor. "Do you really think I don't know? After all these years, doesn't your conscience hurt?"

Breathing hard, he replied, "Why should my conscience hurt? You have no idea how envious I've been of you over the years. I always told myself, you're my sister, and it's only natural that Mom and Dad love you. I don't care if you bully me, but how can you treat Mom and Dad like this?"

My classmates stared in shock, many whipping out their phones to stream my behavior live.

"Everyone, take a look at this ungrateful brat! Her parents and brother worked so hard to support her education, yet she wants to disown them, saying they haven't given her a life of luxury! I've never seen someone so shameless!"

"It's embarrassing to sit next to her! How could someone like her become the top scorer in the state? I suggest a thorough investigation!"

My brother gritted his teeth. "Why do you treat Mom and Dad like this? Why?"

I casually bent down to pick up the already deformed cake.

"Do you really want to know? Fine, I'll show you what's really in the cake!"

Dad, terrified, rushed over to grab me, but Steven held him back.

"Yvonne, don't open it here! There's a surprise in the cake! You must open it in your dorm!"

Mom scrambled to try and snatch the cake from me. She slipped, falling to the floor, and the principal immediately helped her up. "Let her cut it open! I want to see what her excuse is! I don't care what's in the cake, she can't treat her parents like this! She's a disgrace to our school!"

I chuckled lightly, ripped open the cake box, picked up the plastic knife, and sliced through the cake.

The next second, everyone's eyes widened in shock.

I heard a collective gasp.