She turned her eyes, catching sight of me still standing there, and mocked, "Meryl, you can still change your mind. I can have Mom take you for another round if you want."

Indeed, she never called me "sister." To her, I was only a few minutes older, so she always addressed me by my first name.

With her prominent nose, plump cheeks, and sharp chin, she looked just like Belinda. I waved my hand dismissively. "No need, you two look great. I'm just a background player here. I should get back to my studies."

Amy basked in her self-satisfaction for days, completely neglecting her studies. Instead, she was obsessed with taking selfies from every angle and posting them on social media.

But she seemed to have forgotten something crucial.

On SAT day, she was barred from entering the exam hall.

The reason? The photo on her ID didn't match her, raising suspicions of impersonation.

I sat calmly in the exam room, watching the minutes tick by.

Outside, in the sweltering 89°F heat, Amy was sweating bullets. No matter how much she pleaded, the proctor wouldn't let her in.

Eventually, she broke down, sobbing in front of everyone.

The proctor, startled and fearing a disruption, called the police.

Officers stationed at the school entrance rushed over, verified her ID, and escorted her away from the premises.

As the exam bell rang, I focused my mind entirely on the test in front of me.

The room was silent except for the occasional creak of the ceiling fan.

The first testing went smoothly. When I got home, Amy was lounging on the couch, legs crossed, engrossed in TV.

Her morning meltdown seemed like a distant memory.

Noticing my gaze, she sneered, saying, "What's the point of all this book-learning? Even if you get into college, you're just going to end up working for someone else anyway."

I raised an eyebrow, curious about her grand plans. "So what's your big idea?"

She said with an air of superiority, "Mom says she's going to make me an influencer. I'll just stream all day and won't have to do anything else."

Her tone dripped with a kind of superiority I couldn't quite grasp.

I nodded. "Right, you're probably right. With Belinda's connections, I'm sure you'll make it big as an influencer. I'll be counting on you."

With that, I headed to my room. Amy called after me, "Where are you going?"

I waved her off. "I've got another exam this afternoon. I need to study."

"Such a bookworm."

I ignored her disdain and immersed myself in my studies.

After noon, I found Amy still fast asleep. I knocked on her door and half-heartedly called out for her to come to the test center with me.

"No way! You go by yourself. I'm sleeping in!"

I couldn't believe how easily she was blowing off the SAT under Belinda's spell. Shaking my head in resignation, I went to the exam center alone.

When I emerged from the test, I spotted Amy in a super-short skirt and heavy makeup, waving her arms excitedly.

I thought, "Is she here to pick me up?"

The next moment, Amy darted towards a guy emerging from the exam hall. I followed her gaze and saw it was Oliver. I thought, "When have they gotten together?"

Without any hint of embarrassment, they embraced and kissed right there in front of a crowd of parents and students. It was as if they had no regard for their public audience.

From what I knew, Oliver came from a wealthy family. His SAT was just a formality; his path to studying abroad had already been paved by his family.

Sure enough, just a few days later, Amy was at home, crying and complaining that Oliver had gone abroad and wasn't responding to her messages. She couldn't reach him at all.

Then she turned her anger on me. "Ugly witch, you knew all along, didn't you? You just wanted to see me suffer!

"You're jealous of me because I'm prettier, aren't you? How can you be so malicious?"

Her emotions were boiling over, and in a fit of rage, she flung a cup of scalding water at me.

I barely managed to dodge it, narrowly avoiding a serious burn.

I felt a cold chill, thinking, "When has my sister, whom I've grown up with, become so venomous?"

Belinda tried to calm her down, "Sweetie, why are you so hung up on Oliver? Once you become an influencer, you'll have your pick of men.

"You don't need to be fixated on some immature kid."

Amy's eyes lit up at her words, and she eagerly grabbed Belinda's arm. "Mom, when can I become an influencer? I want to start streaming right now."

Belinda scratched her face, leaving it slightly red like she'd had an allergic reaction.

I glanced at Amy again, noticing her face seemed even fuller than before.

Belinda turned to shoot me a glance, then reassured Amy, "Honey, don't rush it. I've already asked my friend to set up an account for you.

"And I'm just afraid someone would say I'm not treating both my daughters equally."

"Hey, ugly witch, you'd better be nice to me now. Once I'm famous, you'll be my personal servant every day. I might even give you some money. Who needs college, right?" Amy said, admiring her reflection in the mirror.

I smiled faintly, "No, thanks. I'd rather focus on my studies."

She looked at me as though I'd just told the funniest joke ever. She shared a laugh with Belinda, who joined in the hilarity.

I ignored them, thinking, "Enjoy your few days of happiness, little sister. You chose your path, so you'd better stick with it."

Belinda quickly helped Amy sign on her friend's company, turning their living room into a makeshift livestream studio.

When I walked in, I was greeted by the sight of Amy and Belinda, scantily clad, gyrating in front of the camera.

I clicked into the stream and saw there were actually quite a few viewers—three or four thousand online at once, with numerous people sending tips.

But the comments were almost all crude and vulgar. Amy cooed into the camera, "Thanks for the rocket, darling," as she danced even more provocatively.

Despite their heavy makeup, it was hard not to notice that Amy and Belinda's faces were becoming increasingly puffy and flushed.

When they finally turned off the stream and removed their makeup, it was even more apparent.

Their cheeks had noticeably swollen, and Amy gingerly touched her newly filled nose, asking Belinda, "Mom, my nose itches a bit inside. Is that normal?"

Belinda scratched her face, too, revealing some red bumps. She pulled out her phone and called a friend to check on the situation.

After hanging up, she reassured Amy with a relaxed demeanor, "Don't worry, sweetheart. It's normal. The hyaluronic acid just needs time to settle."

Her cheeks wobbled with each word, as if they might burst any second.

Amy scratched her own cheek and nodded, not saying anything more.

The two of them huddled around the phone, whispering. I overheard Belinda advising Amy, "That top spender's given you thousands already. Earning this money is so much easier than slogging through books."

Amy smiled and leaned against Belinda, "Yeah, Mom, I should have listened to you sooner.

"If only you were my blood mother. I wouldn't have had to go through so many struggles."

At that moment, I couldn't help but stand up abruptly. "Amy, you need to be mindful of what you say and what you don't."

Amy bristled, saying, "What's wrong with what I said? Honestly, if it weren't for our biological mother, I could have studied abroad by now.

"That spiteful woman, so bitter about her own poverty that she can't stand to see anyone else happy. It's disgusting."

She spoke bitterly about the past, recounting a time when a wealthy couple wanted to adopt her because they were unable to have children.

Everything was set for them to go abroad, but our mother couldn't bear to part with Amy and brought her back home, fearing she might suffer abroad.

I hadn't realized until now that Amy had held onto this resentment long after our mother's death.

It also explained why Amy always made excuses to avoid visiting our mother's grave each year.

I had thought she was genuinely busy, but it was clear now she had been harboring this grudge.

I once overheard a conversation between Owen and Belinda. Had it not been for our mother discovering their affair and confronting them in a fit of anger, she might not have fallen ill so quickly.

Belinda had called our mother a "hag" and even physically attacked her, which contributed to her rapid decline in health and eventual death.

When I revealed this to Amy, she didn't feel any sympathy for our mother; instead, she blamed our mother for being unable to keep Owen faithful.

Amy was practically idolizing Belinda.

She wrapped her arm around Belinda's, a gesture of fondness, and said, "This new mom of mine is amazing—never jealous, always thinking about how to make my life better. You just don't get it!"

Seeing Amy's smug expression, I tried to say again, "Hasn't Mom always been good to you?

"You wanted to learn dancing, and she didn't hesitate to pay thousands of dollars. Not a blink.

"When the school had that event and needed 20 thousand, she didn't ask any questions and paid."

I was about to continue, but Amy cut me off with irritation, shouting, "Shut up!

"She owed me! She deserves it. If she hadn't stopped me from going abroad, my life would have been so much easier!

"She just won't let anyone have peace, even in death. It's so damn annoying!"

I clenched my fists, feeling the urge to hit her right there.