"Why would you say that? We're family," Jake insisted.

Grace pretended to shy away from Jake's hand while casting a timid glance at me, as if silently accusing me of something.

Jake immediately shot me a vicious look. "Wendy! Why are you bullying Grace? How could you become this kind of person? You were never like this before!"

What kind of person had I become, exactly? The ones who had changed were them.

Mom, who once thought of me first in everything; Dad, who was strict but gentle; and Jake, who always protected me, had all become strangers to me.

I smiled coldly, looking straight into Jake's eyes as I answered, "Why don't you ask Grace? How exactly have I bullied her? I gave her my room—what more could she want?"

Grace grew nervous at my question, instinctively avoiding my gaze. Her fearful demeanor further ignited Jake's protective instincts, and he shouted at me without restraint.

"It's that superior attitude of yours that hurts her! Grace just arrived in our family, so it's only right that you accommodate her!"

Suddenly, I became the enemy who needed to be vanquished, while Jake transformed into the prince protecting his princess.

My saintly parents only took sides as usual. "Wendy, your brother rarely comes home. Don't make him angry. Quickly apologize to Jake and Grace."

I looked at this family, whose favoritism knew no bounds, and replied firmly word by word, "Grace can have whatever she wants from me because I don't care about those things. But making me apologize? Not a chance!"

I locked myself in my room after spitting these words, shutting out Jake's impotent rage and shouting. Later, the four of them spent a joyful day together. No one remembered to call home to check on me, nor did anyone remember to bring back food for me.

I would have felt incredibly wronged and might have gone on a hunger strike or even run away from home to make my parents feel guilty if this had been my previous life. But now I knew such actions would be futile and would only hurt myself.

I made myself a hearty bowl of instant noodles and spread out the supplementary textbooks I had secretly purchased.

I had been working diligently to improve myself since my rebirth, never daring to slack off for a single day. I would carve out my own path through my own efforts in this life. I had also decided to study medicine after careful consideration.

As a seven-year-old with the intelligence of my 20-something past life, I was far ahead of Grace academically. Grace's innocent victim act worked on my family with their savior complex, but it didn't work on school teachers—a failing grade was a failing grade.

I ranked first in our year at the end of the term, while Grace was near the bottom. Every time she was called in by teachers for her poor performance, Grace would cry and claim her eye condition was acting up due to stress.

Nonetheless, she stubbornly refused to transfer to a special school. She would throw the household into chaos during exam weeks.

My saintly parents attended her parent-teacher conferences together to spare Grace's feelings and prevent her from being looked down upon by classmates due to her adopted status, even when mine was scheduled for the same day.

My parents couldn't possibly be unaware that their favoritism had made me a target for mockery and bullying at school. My classmates called me the child who had life but no love.

Whenever they needed to sacrifice my needs for Grace, they would trot out the same brainwashing rhetoric I'd heard so many times I could recite it in my sleep.

"Grace is sickly, and she had a pitiful past. Just give in to her."

Nonetheless, I didn't care anymore, because knowledge gave me my greatest power. I used my free time to study ahead, and I skipped grades at 12 years old to become the youngest high school student in our city's history.

Suddenly, I became a household name in town—everyone knew the Lane family had a genius daughter.

Dad's phone was constantly ringing with calls from the upper echelon of society, people wanting their children to befriend me or even arrange engagements. But again, Dad canceled all those social gatherings to spare Grace's feelings. He never considered how beneficial connections in high society could be for my future.

Of course—how could I possibly compare to his precious darling Grace?

The day my acceptance letter arrived, the principal and newspaper reporters came to our home personally to deliver it. But all they saw were the backs of my parents as they hurriedly left.

Grace would never allow me to capture my parents' attention. She'd merely claimed she had a headache, and my parents had rushed her to the hospital without even taking time to greet the principal.

Despite having long been disillusioned with my parents, I still felt a twinge of hurt and helplessness in that moment.

The principal, Kate Weber, looked at me deeply and said earnestly, "Our school doesn't normally have boarding students, but you can apply to the school in advance if you want to live on campus. I'll make arrangements for you."

Ms. Weber's hand, which was gently stroking my head, was so tender. It had been so long since I'd felt care and concern from an adult that I couldn't help shedding tears in front of her.

I then gained the two people who would truly matter in my life because of those tears.

As the new school term approached, I eagerly moved to the dormitory, away from this home devoid of warmth. On the day I left, Grace again dispatched my parents to the hospital.

Though Jake was home on vacation, he showed no intention of helping me pack. He watched coldly as I bustled about, finally dropping a parting comment, "Finally, some peace in this house."

I lifted my last suitcase into the cab without sparing Jake a glance. The room Ms. Weber had prepared for me was excellent. It was a comfortable studio apartment, seemingly converted from spare faculty housing.

I spent a day making the dormitory clean and comfortable, then went to the bookstore to buy supplementary materials. High school coursework would be more demanding, and I needed to work even harder to outperform everyone.

On the first official day of school, I faced the expected ostracism from other students. They'd heard the principal had made an exception to arrange dormitory housing for me and immediately labeled me as someone with connections.

"Well, well, here comes the 12-year-old genius."

"Is the prodigy scared of living alone in the dorm? Won't you cry for your mommy at night?"

"Let's put the prodigy next to the water cooler. She might need to mix some baby formula between classes."

These self-important students rejected me because my existence overshadowed their brilliance. Such bitter remarks might devastate a typical teenager, but they seemed childishly amusing to someone who had undergone a rebirth like me.

Though young, I was tall for my age. I walked straight to a seat in the middle of the classroom and sat down. More discordant voices rose almost immediately.

"These privileged kids are different—they just have to pick the center seats."

"Who could stand being her deskmate? The teachers would be watching us constantly."

The students all scattered to the edges, leaving me alone in the middle. I kept my back ramrod straight as I turned a deaf ear to their mockery, calmly opening a supplementary textbook.

Just then, someone pulled out the chair beside me and sat down. A boy extended his hand toward me.

"Hi, are you Wendy Lane? Let me introduce myself—I'm Ethan Weber. Can I be your deskmate?"

I discreetly sized up the boy. He had the clean-cut appearance of someone who'd be naturally popular.

"Are you sure? Sitting with me might get you labeled as privileged too."

He casually laughed, leaning in to whisper with a playful wink, "Ha, they wouldn't dare. I'm the principal's son."

Only then did I notice that Ethan's features somewhat resembled Ms. Weber's. I guessed that Ms. Weber had anticipated my difficulty fitting in and had specifically asked Ethan to look after me.

A warm feeling flowed through me. I would get along well with Ethan even if it were just for Ms. Weber's sake.

After the first weekly test, my far superior scores silenced all my critics. Soon, people were swallowing their pride and asking me for help with their studies. My once uncomfortable high school life became secure and smooth.

I was probably the only person left on the vast campus when the weekend came. I had planned to study diligently in the library, but Ethan unexpectedly knocked on my dormitory door.

He and Ms. Weber knew I wouldn't be going home for the weekend and worried I might be lonely by myself, so they came specifically to invite me to lunch. Having lived so long with my family's favoritism and neglect, I especially treasured kindness from others.

The amiable Ms. Weber and the humorous, talkative Ethan gave me a long-forgotten taste of family warmth. There really were people who would think of me and consider my feelings out there.

I had spent every weekend with the Webers since I started school. Ms. Weber said having the discipline to study was good, but being too tense would hinder knowledge absorption.

The Lanes were presumably quite happy without me—they hadn't even made a single phone call asking me to come home.

I gradually opened up in my interactions with the Webers, rediscovering some of the innocence and vitality appropriate for my age. Ms. Weber even looked at me tenderly and said, "I've always wanted a daughter. I wish you were my daughter."

No one knew how deeply those words affected me. That was because I had once overheard a conversation between my father and Grace in my previous life.

"Grace, you have such artistic talent. How wonderful it would be if you were my biological daughter."

My eyes welled up with tears again as I recalled this painful memory. Ethan panicked like a cat on a hot tin roof as he hurriedly wiped my tears with his sleeve.

"It was just a joke! It's not like we're kidnapping you. Don't cry."

However, Ms. Weber sensed my true emotions and couldn't help asking what had happened between my family and me. Ethan was so shocked that his jaw nearly dropped after hearing the story about Grace.

"Your parents abandoned their brilliant biological daughter for that drama queen of an adopted sister? Were they under some kind of spell?"