"Mom, Dad, it's so dark. My eyes hurt so badly. I'm so scared," Grace sobbed.

My parents were blinded by sympathy. They didn't stop to wonder how Grace could have found their bedroom so easily in such an unfamiliar environment and during a sudden eye flare-up.

They just held Grace tenderly, their own anxieties mirrored in their tearful eyes. "Don't be afraid, Grace. We're right here."

Grace trembled as she nestled into Mom's embrace, appearing thoroughly frightened.

"Mom, Dad, can I really stay in this family? Earlier, Wendy..." Grace whimpered.

My heart sank when I overheard this. Dad burst into my room and yanked me out of bed while I was still pretending to sleep the next moment later.

"What did you say to Grace? How can you be so inconsiderate? Grace has been sickly since childhood and has such a tragic past. Can't you just give way to her a little?"

"Don't be like that. Wendy's still young. She'll understand with some guidance!" Mom verbally restrained Dad but continued holding Grace tightly, showing no intention of coming to protect me.

Eventually, they took Grace back to their bedroom and left me standing outside in my thin nightgown.

Mom used to check on me every night, tucking me in before leaving. They seemed to have forgotten that I was only a seven-year-old child who also feared the dark and the cold, and at an age when I needed parental love the most.

Grace often did this in my previous life. She'd first pretend her eye condition was flaring up, then take advantage of my saintly parents' compassionate nature to fabricate lies that tarnished my reputation.

I gradually became aware of the threat even as a young child. I had transformed in my parents' eyes from a sweet, adorable daughter into a "bad girl" since her arrival.

So I began secretly competing with Grace, comparing myself to her in everything. Whatever Grace had, I had to have it too.

Grace excelled at putting on an act in front of others—appearing gentle, timid, and always yielding—making my parents feel they owed her even more.

I competed with Grace my entire life, but I could never win against her. Even Jake, who once adored me the most, fell under Grace's spell.

Everyone in the art circle knew that the Lane family had a pitifully talented adopted daughter named Grace and a jealous, bullheaded biological daughter named Wendy.

I decided to stop competing with Grace in this new life. I would live the life I truly wanted.

Early the next morning, Grace's and my parents' cheerful voices drifted from the dining room. I quietly walked downstairs to find Grace sitting in my seat, using my favorite tableware.

The previously harmonious atmosphere suddenly broke upon seeing me. It was as if I were the intruder in their family.

Mom's face flashed with embarrassment. "Wendy, you're up early today. Grace doesn't have her own tableware yet, so she's using yours. Would you mind using Jake's set?"

"No thanks. I don't like using things that belong to others."

Everyone knew I was criticizing Grace when they heard my words. Dad, still angry about my "bullying" of Grace yesterday, transformed from his usually kind demeanor to looking extremely displeased.

I glanced at the milk, sandwiches, bacon, and eggs on the table. Grace liked all of these things. Meanwhile, I was lactose intolerant and usually had oatmeal for breakfast.

"Oh, I forgot you can't drink milk. I'll get you almond milk in a moment," Mom hurriedly intervened, afraid of revealing that she cared more for her adopted daughter than me.

Dad slammed his cup on the table and scolded me irritably, "There's no need for all these special requests! You've spoiled her too much.

"She's just a child and already acts like she rules the house! We need to take Grace to arrange her school transfer soon. We don't have time to waste!"

If this had been my former self, I would have been heartbroken by these words and thrown a tantrum. Yet now, I feel only numbness.

I quietly sat in the corner of the table and noticed Grace eating with her head down, a smug smile playing at the corners of her lips. Yet when she looked up again, her little face was filled with sadness.

"Dad, please don't talk to Wendy like that. She's not like me. She'd been cherished and protected since she was little. It's natural for her to be a bit willful. It shows how much you love her."

My saintly parents were once again moved to tears. Perhaps they wondered how such an angelic little girl could exist in this world.

Meanwhile, I was cast as the spoiled child who had everything handed to her since birth, yet still couldn't behave properly. When they looked at me, their eyes reflected nothing but profound disappointment.

Nonetheless, I didn't care. I had practically severed ties with my parents in my previous life, and I no longer cared how they saw me.

I could easily please Grace if I played the role of a mindless, easily controlled little sister. Then I would still be Mom and Dad's good daughter, able to pick up the scraps of attention left over from what they gave Grace.

But I would let Grace know that the family love and affection she had schemed so hard to obtain meant nothing to me.

I had already vacated my original room when they returned home as a "family of three" after completing the school transfer procedures. I moved all my belongings to the unused nanny's quarters.

I didn't intentionally yield to Grace; I just wanted to preserve my private space.

Dad gently patted my head and said, "You're so considerate, Wendy. You're truly a good daughter of mine."

These words might have pleased a young child, but I heard the subtext, having lived through this once before. I would only be worthy of being his "good daughter" if I sympathized with Grace in everything like they did, sacrificing my own happiness to accommodate her.

Grace barged into my room uninvited to look around. Her little face suddenly turned pale when she saw the complete art set my parents had bought for me. She weakly collapsed into Mom's arms, crying.

"I wish I could draw carefree like Wendy," she sobbed.

Mom looked at me uncomfortably. She hesitated for a long time and finally said, "I'm sorry, Wendy, but could you put away your art supplies for now? To be considerate of Grace's feelings?"

There it was again. My living space had been continuously compressed since Grace's appearance, until eventually I wasn't even allowed to have my own hobbies and dreams.

It was the same in my previous life. Since Grace's eyes weren't good and she couldn't draw for extended periods, I was also forced to reduce my drawing time repeatedly.

Despite being the daughter of a painter, I couldn't freely purchase art supplies or attend training classes. It was simply because it would make Grace sad to see them.

Yet Grace could nestle in Dad's arms and learn to paint with his hand guiding hers. Each of her works was framed exquisitely, while my paintings could only be hidden at the very bottom of my art box.

The situation culminated at the critical moment when we both took our art university entrance exams. Grace supposedly had a sudden vision problem during the test and couldn't complete it. She then switched our names when submitting our papers.

When the admission results came out, I immediately recognized that the excellent test paper bearing Grace's name was actually mine. I begged Mom and Dad to support me, but they just held Grace, who was crying hysterically, and advised me to be more generous.

"Wendy, you can always retake the exam next year, but Grace doesn't have much time left. You know she could go blind at any moment!"

"Grace has had such a pitiful life. Just give in to her this once! You'll definitely pass next year!"

They made it sound so easy. Who knew how many hours I had secretly practiced, drawing late into the night until I nearly ruined my eyes because my natural talent didn't match Grace's?

I broke down and shouted, "Isn't it enough that she's stolen my parents? Does she have to steal my life too? Give me back my spot, or I'll leave this family forever!"

My defiance didn't bring any remorse from my parents—just an angry slap from Dad.

"If Grace's eyes weren't sick, do you think you could ever beat her? You have no artistic talent whatsoever. You'd be at the bottom of the class even if you got into art school!"

I held my stinging cheek, unable to believe these words had come from my biological father's mouth.

In the end, Grace took my place at the art university. Meanwhile, I became the laughingstock of everyone in our social circle.

I was the girl who lost to her adopted sister with impaired vision. I descended into a life of mediocrity when my artistic dreams were shattered.

I had already lost my passion for painting in this new life. So, I threw the entire art set into the trash in front of my parents. Dad's face darkened instantly, but they knew they were in the wrong and just awkwardly left with Grace.

Jake, who usually studied abroad, came home for a family reunion when summer vacation arrived. He also came back mainly to meet our legendary new sister, Grace.

Just like in my previous life, Grace completely enchanted Jake from their first meeting. She had covered her eyes with a cloth, pretending to be blind as she fumbled her way through the hall. She then "coincidentally" fell right into Jake's arms during their first encounter.

Grace blushed and said sweetly, "Because I don't know when I might go blind, I want to learn to live in darkness first so that I won't burden Mom, Dad, and you in the future."

Grace was so clever with her words. She subtly excluded me while hinting to Jake that we didn't get along.

The young and impulsive Jake was speechless with emotion. The girl before him was as pitiable as the pure-hearted heroine from a drama. He immediately vowed to take care of Grace for the rest of his life.

My parents suggested that we all go out for a day of fun to welcome Jake home. I didn't want to join them.

After all, what did their perfect family of four have to do with me, the temperamental, jealous, difficult daughter that no one loved?

Even then, Grace had to make things difficult for me. She hid in a corner, shedding delicate tears.

"Mom, Dad, you should just take Jake and Wendy without me. I would only spoil your family reunion."

Jake became anxious and gently wiped away Grace's tears.