Dad glanced at me, almost defensively, before speaking.

"Carson kept asking for it," he said, the words slightly unnatural in his mouth. "So I let him have it. You're the eldest—you should be generous. Don't hold it against him."

I answered flatly, "It's fine. You can give it to whoever you want."

I'd heard lines like that more times than I could count. Anything Carson wanted, I was supposed to give up without complaint. I'd gotten used to it.

Maybe they hadn't expected me to be so "understanding." For a moment, they looked genuinely surprised.

Carson spoke up with a soft tone. "I shouldn't have taken what's Jason's... but I really like this. Everything else in this house is his—I just want this cuff. You don't mind, do you?"

Mom sighed, gently stroking his head. "Oh, sweetheart, you're too good for this world. You know you're our only real son, don't you?"

He remained silent, merely gazing at my parents with affection—just enough to make them pull him closer. The three of them looked like the picture of a loving family. For a moment, it was as if I no longer existed.

No one remembered that Carson had only been adopted from the orphanage as a stand-in.

During the eighteen years I was gone, my parents, drowning in guilt over losing me, poured all their love into him.

If he so much as let out a sigh, they panicked. If he cried, their world collapsed.

The night I returned home, Carson couldn't accept it. After a dramatic breakdown, he climbed to the edge of the rooftop and screamed, "I've been abandoned! No one wants me anymore! I might as well die so Dad, Mom, and Jason can finally live happily together!"

My parents lost their minds. Scrambled up to coax him down, then wouldn't leave his side for a second.

Dad and Mom fed him fruit and snacks, coaxing him to eat, while I sat dizzy with hunger, ignored completely.

Later, they casually mentioned going camping in the countryside. They took me along.

I was caught off guard but grateful—until the moment they left me alone on a remote mountain with no signal.

I survived an entire week out there, filthy, starving, freezing. When I finally stumbled back home, they were sitting on the couch watching TV with Carson, not even sparing me a glance.

"We just wanted you to learn to behave," they said calmly. "Understand that this house belongs to Carson now. He's been with us for eighteen years. The bond is deeper. You shouldn't fight with him. You got that?"

I got it.

That day, I understood I had no home.

The next morning, with my bag packed, I came downstairs. Carson approached with a bowl in his hands.

He smiled. "Jason, I made you breakfast."

I glanced at his fake smile, said nothing, and walked right past him into the kitchen.

Then he suddenly slipped. The hot soup spilled all over him.

The noise brought Dad and Mom rushing out. They saw the burns on Carson's arm, scolding with worry.

"We have a housekeeper for this! Why were you even in the kitchen? You don't know how to use the stove!"

Carson lowered his head, then looked up with just the right amount of hurt in his eyes.

"Jason messaged me last night, told me to make him breakfast. I didn't want to upset him, so I got up early and tried. I guess I was just too clumsy…"

I felt something sink inside me. Just as I opened my mouth to deny it, Dad stormed over and slapped me hard across the face.

"When we're not around, this is how you bully your brother? Carson lost his parents when he was young. He's never had an easy life. You should be making it up to him! You're nothing but an ungrateful, feral brat—no upbringing, no decency!"

Carson put on a long-suffering face and quietly said, "Don't be so harsh on him. It's fine if he's a little rough with me. I just want to stay here... I can put up with it."

Seeing how the blame had been squarely pinned on me, I didn't bother defending myself anymore. I just turned and walked into the kitchen to finish my breakfast in silence.

Dad was about to erupt again when Jessica Burton arrived at the door.

She had been my childhood friend and my fiancée by family arrangement. We used to be very close.

But now, the moment she saw Carson's scalded hand, she frowned and snapped, "Jason, did you hurt Carson again?"

Carson had pulled this act more than once—every time, running to complain in front of her and our parents. It had become a reflex for her to blame me for any injury he had.

"It wasn't me," I said. "He spilled the soup himself."

But she didn't believe a word. "You must've forced him to cook. That's why it happened! Stop lying. Don't think I don't see through your act—pretending to be this quiet, studious guy, when you're really a selfish, cold-hearted ingrate. Your parents were kind enough to bring you back and give you a home. Stop trying to ruin what Carson has with us."

She finished wrapping Carson's hand, then took the keys and personally drove him to work.

Even Mom and Dad followed behind in another car, worried about him the whole way.

And I was left alone in the empty house, eating breakfast by myself.

…

On my last day before leaving, I attended an academic conference with my professor.

To my surprise, I saw my parents there—with Carson, and Jessica holding his arm.

During the event, Dad proudly introduced Carson to the room.

"This is my beloved son," he said. "Exceptionally talented. He founded his own tech company. It's about to go public."

The room burst into congratulations. Praises flew.

Then someone asked, "Didn't you find your long-lost son recently? Isn't he here today?"

Dad froze for half a second, then forced a laugh. "Who told you that? Total nonsense."

Mom quickly chimed in, smiling as she slipped an arm around Carson's shoulder. "We only have one child. There must've been some misunderstanding—probably just a relative staying with us for a while."

They were desperate to erase me, as if admitting my existence would tarnish their perfect image.

I held my glass and walked toward them.

They were laughing and basking in praise until they turned and saw me.

And then everything went quiet.

Carson looked genuinely surprised. "Jason, what are you doing here?"

He hesitated, then added, voice growing quieter with each word, "This symposium is by invitation only... Don't tell me you stole someone's pass?"

There was a flicker of shame in his expression.

Our mother's face tensed the moment she saw me. Clearly, even she knew she had no right to pretend ignorance.

"Jason, don't make a scene," she said with forced calm. "We brought Carson here for business. His company needs to secure a patent."

But the moment she noticed the professor standing behind me, her entire demeanor shifted. Her eyes lit up. "Professor, we're very interested in your university's latest aerospace patent. Would you consider licensing it to our son's company?"

The professor glanced at me. "That patent was developed by Jason. You'll need his approval."

Carson's gaze darkened—vicious, even—but he masked it well. He turned to the others with a disappointed sigh. "What can I do? Jason hates me. He'd never agree to give it up."

Dad's brow knotted instantly. He grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. "Jason, change the name on that patent. Put Carson down as the inventor. You're his older brother. You've never given him a proper gift in your life. He needs that patent right now, and you don't even know how to make good use of it. It's wasted on you."

I nearly laughed. Dad's words were so absurd that they were almost comical. "This isn't charity. If he wants it, he can pay for it. I'm not handing it over for free."

Dad stood there, finger raised in fury, but the words caught in his throat. Mom looked at me, her eyes clouded with disappointment. "Jason, we're a family. Why are you treating your brother like this?"

"You crashed this event just to force us to acknowledge you as our son in public, didn't you?" she went on. "Fine. Give him the patent, and we'll give you your place in the family."

I hadn't thought they could sink any lower. But they always managed to prove me wrong.

I smirked. "You really think I want to be part of your family?"

Before they could respond, I turned and walked away.

Outside the venue, I spotted a red Ferrari parked at the curb.

I suddenly remembered how, as a child, I'd begged Dad for a model of that exact car. He had hoisted me up on his shoulders, laughing as he pointed to the real one in our garage.

"If you like it that much," he'd said, "I'll buy you one when you get your license."

I'd clapped my hands and shouted with glee, certain then that he was the best father in the world—that he would always love me more than anyone.

But eighteen years later, a boy they adopted to ease their guilt had taken everything.

I hated it. But there was nothing I could do.

Carson came up behind me, saw me lingering by the Ferrari, and deliberately ran his hand across its glossy surface.

"It's gorgeous," he said with a dreamy sigh. "I hope I get one for my birthday."

Dad didn't even pause. He pulled out his phone. "Get three Ferraris delivered to Carson," he told his assistant.

Carson gave a modest little protest. "Isn't three a bit much?"

Dad patted his head like he was the most precious thing in the world. "Not at all. Drive whichever one you like. There's no need to wait for your birthday. If it makes you happy, it's yours."

"Thanks, Dad!" Carson beamed.

Then Jessica emerged with my mother, walking right past me. She gave me a withering glare. "What are you looking at? You don't actually think your dad would buy one for you, do you? Stop dreaming. You've never been one of us. You'll never replace Carson."

They climbed into their cars and drove off, leaving me behind at the curb.

The wind had turned bitter. I tightened my coat and hailed a cab home.

When I arrived, all my belongings had been thrown outside the gate, scattered like trash.

The maid came out looking apologetic. "Sir and Madam asked me to tell you: leave, and don't ever come back."

I didn't argue. I quietly packed my things and walked away.

That night, in the early hours, I boarded a flight. I was headed to a confidential research base under the national space agency.

Just before shutting off my phone, I sent a message to everyone in my contact list: [This is Jason. I hereby sever all ties with the Wheeler family. From this day forward, we are strangers.]

I was about to turn off my phone when a notification appeared.

It was a message from Carson.

[Jason, Mom and Dad know you're leaving. They have something they want to say to you.]