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?"

"Her eyes may be sick, but she's not blind. Why should everyone have to give way to her in everything?"

Ms. Weber tapped Ethan on the forehead, warning him to be careful with his words. Then she pulled me into her arms, stroking my back like a mother would.

"You can be my goddaughter from now on. You're such a wonderful kid—if they don't want you, I do."

I buried my face in Ms. Weber's embrace and sobbed uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, Ethan muttered under his breath beside us, "If she becomes your daughter, wouldn't that make us siblings?"

After that, I spent the most relaxed period of my life in high school. Even during winter and summer breaks, I used studying as an excuse to stay in the dormitory most of the time.

My biological parents couldn't be bothered with me anyway. I heard they were busy taking Grace to various doctors while shuttling her between different tutoring classes.

They were so occupied that they half-abandoned the family business and significantly reduced my allowance. Fortunately, I had already achieved financial independence and could live quite comfortably even without relying on the Lane family.

I had an eye for investing in artwork from a young age. However, I was gaslit by my father and Grace in my previous life, believing that mixing art with money was shameful.

They talked a good game, but secretly sold paintings I had identified as valuable, without sharing a penny with me. Having seen through their facade early on, I asked the trustworthy Ms. Weber to help me invest.

Watching the numbers in my bank account steadily increase gave me unprecedented peace of mind. Having the ability to support oneself truly was the most important thing.

This weekend, Ms. Weber and Ethan had specifically set aside time to take me on a picnic at a nearby park. She went to park the car while Ethan and I went ahead to secure a spot on the lawn. I had been looking forward to this day, but my good mood vanished when I saw the Lane family approaching.

Grace walked in front, arm-in-arm with Jake, followed by my saintly parents, whom I hadn't seen in ages. Their bright smiles froze when they spotted me.

Grace timidly hid behind Jake as if I might devour her as soon as she saw me. This delicate act provoked Jake's protective instincts, and his gaze toward me instantly turned hostile.

"You claimed you were studying all this time, but you were actually lying." Grace noticed Ethan standing beside me and bit her lip with a hint of jealousy.

"Wendy, are you on a date with your boyfriend? Mom and Dad have been so worried about you, yet you don't even come home during breaks. Instead, you lie to us. You've truly changed since starting high school..."

My parents also looked at Ethan and me in shock.

"Wendy, how are you already deceiving your parents for a boy at such a young age? Are you trying to worry us to death? When will you ever be as obedient and well-behaved as Grace?"

The four of them hurled accusations at me, not even giving me a chance to explain. Although Ethan had heard about the Lane family's favoritism, he was still bewildered by their coordinated attack.