I had always been fragile, the kind of kid who could not handle a gust of wind without losing balance and who teared up over the smallest thing.

The day my biological parents found me and took me back into their wealthy world, everything had already felt unreal.

Then, things got worse.

Out of nowhere, an old woman came sprinting down the street and dropped right in front of the Bentley, like she had timed it perfectly.

I panicked and completely froze, so I did the only thing I could think of. I dropped down beside her and started crying.

However, I overdid it.

I cried so hard that blood started streaming from my eyes.

The old woman jolted upright like she had seen something horrifying. She shoved 500 dollars into my hands, muttered a string of curses, and ran off without looking back.

Just like that, I was back with the Snyder family.

The house rose in front of me, all polished stone and perfectly kept lawns, like something out of a magazine. However, the closer I got, the more my nerves kicked in, and that familiar metallic taste crept up my throat again.

The so-called heir walked over, smiling like we were supposed to be close. Then, he gave me a light shove. He leaned in, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

"Stay in your place. Don't start wanting things that were never yours."

Right there, in front of everyone, I leaned back and collapsed. I did not move at all.

He froze. His face turned red as he grabbed my collar and shook me.

"Quit pretending. Get up!"

A few seconds passed, then a few more, before he slowly turned his head, his movements stiff. Tiny drops of blood speckled his clothes. His voice trembled.

"Mom… Dad… I think…"

He swallowed hard.

"I think he stopped breathing."

The couple who had been standing at the side, calmly watching the so-called brotherly reunion, suddenly dropped their elegant composure and rushed over in a panic.

My biological mother, Catherine Lynch, reached out with trembling fingers to check if I was breathing. She took a long moment before finally letting out a shaky sigh of relief.

"He's still breathing. Call an ambulance now!"

The second I heard that, I snapped my eyes open and grabbed her wrist. "No need. It's just low blood sugar. I'll be fine."

It was my first day back in this house. The last thing I wanted was for people to think I was troublesome or high-maintenance. More than anything, I wanted them to like me.

The servants stared at me, my face covered in blood, clearly terrified. Their eyes darted nervously toward my mother for instructions.

My mother stood up and motioned for the butler and the servants to leave, then turned to Anthony Snyder, her tone gentle but measured as she said, "Liam has only just come back to the family, so he still needs time to adjust. Make sure he's well taken care of, and don't…"

Before she could finish, Anthony's eyes were already glassy. The young man, who had been indulged his whole life, looked both stubborn and aggrieved.

"I was just trying to welcome him. How was I supposed to know he'd collapse on his own? I didn't even touch him."

My mother nodded softly and patted his hand in reassurance, about to speak again when I suddenly let out a blood-streaked tear. "He told me to behave… I didn't react in time. It scared me, and I fell. I didn't mean to."

Anthony's face went deathly pale. He stared at me, his voice rising sharply. "What are you talking about?"

The pressure in his gaze hit me like a weight, and my chest tightened instantly.

My body was weak, and my mind even more so. I had always been afraid of upsetting people and being a burden. I lived carefully and cautiously, never daring to say no.

Then, on my very first day back, I had already been warned by Anthony. The anxiety pressed down on me so hard I could barely breathe.

What if I upset him again in the future? What if he started to hate me?

The more I thought about it, the worse it felt. Blood-streaked tears slid uncontrollably from the corners of my eyes.

I looked at him miserably. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have come back and gotten in the way. I'll leave right now."

Getting warned like that on day one… The days ahead probably would not be easy. I could already tell.

Perhaps some things were never meant to be forced. With a body as fragile as mine, I clearly did not belong in a family like that.

Since my luggage had not even been brought inside yet, I was already thinking about how to ask the driver to take me back to where I came from.

The commotion quickly drew the attention of the neighbors.

They gathered in small groups along the roadside, whispering to each other, occasionally shooting strange, unreadable looks in our direction.

When he saw me lying there, covered in blood, my father, Patrick Snyder, finally crouched. He forced a stiff, almost ugly smile onto his face.

"You're our biological son. Of course, you should stay. Perhaps Anthony doesn't know how to phrase things properly. He's not a bad person."

Seeing me glance timidly at Anthony, my father subtly shot him a look from the side.

Only then did Anthony reluctantly walk over. His expression was strained as he reached out a hand, as if to help me up.

However, the dissatisfaction in his eyes had not faded at all. When he grabbed my hand, his grip was too tight, like he was holding something back. The next second, he suddenly tightened his grip.

A sharp crack rang out. My arm snapped.

…

I crashed heavily back onto the ground. A few bills slipped out of my pocket and scattered across the floor.

I barely had time to process the tearing pain. My broken arm hung uselessly at my side, swaying slightly.

Meanwhile, Anthony bent downward, picked up the scattered bills, and curled his lips into a strange, unreadable smile.

"So that's where it went," he said lightly, almost casually. "I was wondering how those few hundred bucks disappeared."

He looked up at our parents, as if silently asking for their agreement. "I didn't expect it was you who took it."

The air instantly turned icy.

Their expressions hardened. Their brows furrowed as their eyes moved back and forth between me and the money on the ground, a trace of undisguised disgust slipping through. Even when the doctor rushed over, my father instinctively raised a hand and stopped him at the door.

My heart started pounding wildly.

Under that suffocating pressure, it felt like my mouth had been glued shut. I could not speak. My mind was a complete mess.

Then, I caught sight of the driver, who had just stepped out of the car after turning off the engine. It felt like grabbing onto a lifeline.

I pointed at him and burst into tears. "He knows! I didn't steal the money!"

Everyone turned to look at the driver at once, startling him.

When he saw me collapsed on the ground, he quickly explained what had happened on the road. "Mr. Snyder, the dashcam recorded everything. You can check it if you want."

My father said nothing. He only gave Anthony a meaningful glance, then turned and walked away.

My mother did not say much, either. She simply patted Anthony on the shoulder and gestured for him to help me with my luggage, as if the whole situation had just been brushed aside.

I was still replaying everything in my head, wondering what I had done wrong today, when Anthony suddenly pushed open the largest master bedroom.

"Liam, this one's yours.

"I didn't expect your health to be this bad. Honestly, you don't look like you'll live very long. I'm really sorry for how I treated you earlier."

He looked friendly, almost warm. Before I could even react, he shoved me and my luggage into the room.

I stared at the piles of figurines and toys stacked everywhere, then at the eager look on his face.

The words I wanted to say got stuck in my throat. In the end, I swallowed them and answered timidly, "Thank you."

I had not even finished unpacking when the door was suddenly kicked open.

A woman who looked about 70 percent like me stormed in, her face full of anger.

"You're the one who took Anthony's room?"

Her gaze swept across the room before locking onto the boxes filled with figurines. She pointed at me and shouted, "You threw away Anthony's favorite toys?"

I knew immediately who she was: my biological sister, Yessenia Snyder.

Watching her stride in on sharp high heels, bursting through the door like that, I froze on the spot. I was so stunned I forgot to explain that my skin was sensitive, that I had a rare condition, and that I was allergic to rubber.

When I did not respond, Yessenia's anger only grew. She shoved me hard.

"I'm on Anthony's side. So, you better behave."

Anthony peeked out from behind her, looking smug.

I collapsed onto the floor, finally snapping back to my senses.

Looking at my sister's blazing eyes, mine turned red. "Sis, I'm sorry. Please don't be mad."

I struggled to my feet, enduring the unbearable itch crawling across my skin, and began putting every rubber figurine back where it belonged.

In the end, my throat was so swollen I could barely breathe, and my face turned a sickly blue before I collapsed onto the ground again.

Yessenia watched me gasp for air while still trying to clean up. She seemed a little taken aback.

Seeing my ashen face, her expression stiffened slightly. "Alright, alright. As long as you know you're in the wrong. Just be more careful next time. Don't bully Anthony again."

She was about to leave when Anthony suddenly cried out.

"Wait, sis, look at this!"

Like a magic trick, he pulled out a jersey signed by his favorite basketball star.

"Look. The birthday gift you gave me this year. It's stained with Liam's blood.

"This is my favorite player's autograph. I don't even usually wear it."

However, I had never even seen that jersey before. Aside from the figurines and toys, I had not touched anything else in the room.

Yessenia did not listen to a single word of my explanation. Instead, she gently ruffled Anthony's hair before turning back to me, her expression changing in an instant.

Her grip was firm as she seized my hair and dragged me all the way to the laundry room. She threw me in front of the sink, tossed the dirty clothes at me, and said through gritted teeth, "Wash them clean."

…

"B…but…" I stammered, glancing at the muscles bulging along her arm.

Even if I tried to explain, she would not have believed me. She probably would have hated me even more, so in the end, I gave up and decided to just wash them.

I turned on the faucet, my face tight with suppressed grievance.

"Ah!"

Anthony suddenly let out a sharp scream, clutching his eyes.

Seeing his face go pale, I dropped the clothes and rushed forward, wanting to check on him.

However, Yessenia immediately stepped in front of him, glaring at me with full suspicion.

"Stay away from him!"

I blinked, frozen in place, too scared to move.

Our parents rushed over at the noise. When they saw the red rash spreading all over my body, they were visibly stunned.

The air turned heavy in an instant. I was just about to explain when Anthony spoke first, his voice full of open contempt.

"Liam, this kind of thing… Don't you think you should explain it?" He paused on purpose, his eyes slowly scanning my miserable state, the corner of his lips lifting slightly.

"You're not even that old, but you're already so good at causing trouble."

For a moment, I could not even process what he meant. Being slandered like that in front of everyone made my breathing turn uneven.

Yessenia pointed straight at me, her voice sharp and merciless.

"That's enough, Liam. How much more embarrassing can you get?"

Her gaze was icy, completely devoid of warmth. "This family doesn't welcome you. The Snyder family has no place for someone like you." She paused, then spoke with finality, "Pack your things and leave."

Our parents' expressions darkened instantly. When they looked at me, there was no attempt to hide their disgust.

The pressure crushed down on me until I could not take it anymore. My legs gave out, and I dropped to my knees. Even breathing became difficult.

"I didn't…" The words got stuck in my throat, broken and incomplete.

I shook my head hard as tears streamed down uncontrollably. "I don't have that disease, okay? I really don't."

Anthony kept making a scene. "Just admit it, Liam. Mom and Dad will pay to get you treated."

I shook my head desperately. "It's really not that. I actually…"

My father cut me off impatiently. "Stop crying. Call the doctor and let him take a look."

Anthony shot me a resentful glare, but honestly, I wished the doctor would come as soon as possible.

After the examination, the doctor said calmly, "It's just severe allergic dermatitis. Contact with detergent triggers the rash. He'll be fine after some rest. Nothing serious."

After the doctor left, my father rubbed his temples and called Anthony into a room.

Before closing the door, he glanced back at me, who was still crying.

"Go to school tomorrow. Your mother and I will make sure your health improves."

Just like that, Anthony and I became students at the same school.

However, my life did not get any better. Almost everyone kept their distance from me.

They whispered behind my back, sometimes letting out suppressed laughter, giving me all kinds of nicknames. Some said I 'collapsed at the slightest touch.' Others joked that 'anyone who touches him is doomed.'

Over time, I became that person in everyone's eyes, the one people stayed away from.

I was lonely, but I did not dare tell my parents. I could only hide in the bathroom, staring at the sky through the window, pretending to look deep and thoughtful.

One day, during swimming class, we had to split into groups. No one wanted to be near me, and even the teacher looked troubled.

That was when Anthony walked over and said loudly, "If you dare to walk one full lap around the pool wearing only your swim trunks, I'll team up with you."

When that one small gesture of kindness came my way, I accepted it without hesitation, wanting to fit in and be accepted.

Watching Anthony being surrounded and admired every day, I was insanely jealous.

Gritting my teeth, I took off my outer clothes, leaving only my swim trunks, and forced myself to take the first step.

I moved slowly, struggling to keep my balance on the slippery ground, afraid of falling, while all eyes stayed fixed on me, and my heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst out of my throat.

Then, suddenly, I heard a faint ripping sound from below. I looked down and saw that my swim trunks had split open.

Panic hit me instantly, my legs giving out as I fell straight into the pool.

Through the blur, I could still hear my classmates laughing.

"Did he rip his trunks on purpose in front of the girls? What kind of weird fetish is that?"

Their laughter grew more and more distant through the water. I did not even have the strength to struggle anymore. My body sank straight down.

Until someone suddenly shouted, "Oh, no! Liam can't swim!"

When I woke up again, I was in the hospital. My mother was sitting by my bed, tightly holding my hand.

The moment she saw me open my eyes, she hurriedly pressed the call button.

That was when I learned I had been unconscious for an entire week after nearly drowning during swimming class.

As soon as news spread that I had woken up, reporters who had been waiting outside rushed in, cameras and microphones shoved right into my face.

A voice pushed through the crowd, filled with obvious provocation.

"There are rumors that the Snyder family's adopted son has been bullying you, the biological son who was just found. Is that true?"

Another microphone immediately turned toward my mother.

"Mrs. Snyder, have you been allowing this behavior? Why would you tolerate your adopted son treating your biological son this way?"

Faced with the sudden swarm of questions, the composed smile on my mother's face froze for a brief moment.