The rice was still in my mouth, and I remembered that a long time ago, someone else had cursed at me the same way.

I lost my arms the year I turned ten, right at the age when a child learns shame.

The strange looks, the classmates' laughter, the raw pain of the wounds—all of it pulled me down, a little at a time, toward the bottom.

Back then I ate with my head bowed, just like a dog.

It was Director Swanson who caught me as I fell.

She said,

"A person can lose a limb, but never lose heart!"

"Once the heart is crippled, living is nothing but suffering."

"Child, remember this. Take one stroke away from the word for jade, and you have the word for king."

"A flawed piece of jade isn't a flaw. It's a king without a crown."

After that, she spent countless days and nights teaching me how to eat, how to dress, how to live without depending on anyone.

My mother pressed at her brow, a thread of reproach in her voice.

"Sharon, really. If you don't like these dishes, you can just tell me, and I'll have the housekeeper make what you like."

"Look at you now. How is this any way for a girl to behave? Don't blame your father for scolding you either. He only wants what's best for you."

"Go on, apologize to your father, and don't do it again."

With the rice still in my mouth, I spoke, the words coming out thick and unclear.

"Dad, it isn't what you think. I actually—"

"Sis, Dad went over the rules just one second ago, and you're already doing this. You're not deliberately going against him, are you!"

"You've got so much attitude, Sis. I'll bet nobody out there ever dared push you around all these years."

Marlene's words were nothing but oil on the fire.

Sure enough, my father slammed his chopsticks down on the table, and the ceramic snapped into pieces.

"Sharon Swanson, this is the Abbott house, not some place for strays."

"While you're here, I expect you to drop that low-class act you learned out there."

"If you don't want to eat, then get down."

"When you've learned to eat with your hands, you can sit back at this table."

The explanation lodged in my chest and wouldn't come out.

I looked at the half bowl of white rice left in front of me and slowly stood.

So in the Abbott house, if you had no hands, you weren't allowed at the table.

Back in the guest room, a few crackers were still on the desk.

I got them down with water, and only then did I feel even a little full.

A sharp pain shot up from the stumps of both arms. Ever since I'd started wearing the shaping brace,

the phantom pain had been coming more and more often.

It was as if both arms were being crushed all over again. I dropped to my knees on the floor, shaking all over, unable to stop.

Ten minutes later.

I got up unsteadily, meaning to go downstairs and get some air outside.

I'd just reached the top of the stairs when I came face to face with Marlene, on her way up after dinner.

"Sis, why are your eyes so red? Don't tell me you've been hiding in your room crying."

"Serves you right. Who told you to make Dad angry? If you ask me, someone like you should never have come back at all."

"Just crawl back to your orphanage while you can. Stop embarrassing everyone and making the whole family miserable."

I glanced at her. I didn't have the energy to deal with her at all.

That spoiled-heiress temper of Marlene's flared up in an instant.

"Sharon Swanson, I'm talking to you. Are you deaf?"

She shoved me, and it wrenched the wound on my shoulder.

The pain crashed over me again, so bad I nearly blacked out. I braced my foot against the railing, and only that kept me from falling.

If there'd been a mirror, I'd have seen how frighteningly white my own face had gone.

"Hey, don't you dare fake an injury. I barely touched you. Do you have to put on an act like this?"

The sight of me scared Marlene into stumbling backward.

She'd forgotten the stairs were right behind her. Her foot found nothing, and her whole body pitched back.

Pure bodily instinct made her throw out a hand toward me.

"Sharon Swanson, save me."

I had no hands. I couldn't grab her. I could only watch as she tumbled down the stairs, her head split open and bleeding.

"Marlene, what's wrong? Don't frighten Mom, please."

"Gerald, go get the car, quick, take her to the hospital."

Hearing the noise, my parents came out to look, and the sight of Marlene lying in a pool of blood drained the color from their faces.

That was when my father looked up and saw me, my face white as death.

His eyes were cold, cold enough to freeze me solid.

"Sharon Swanson, what exactly did you do!"

Just then the butler pulled up in the car and, frantic, lifted Marlene into the back seat.

"You'd better pray Marlene is all right. Otherwise..."

I wanted to explain, but the cursed phantom pain came for me again, so sharp I nearly blacked out. I couldn't get out a single whole sentence.

Fighting through it, I stumbled back to my room and found the painkillers and swallowed them down.

By the time I came out again, the house was empty.

I picked up my phone to ask what was happening, and only then realized I didn't have any of their numbers.

I slept badly that night and got up early. I'd just finished washing up and stepped out when I heard the door open.

Marlene came in with one hand in a cast, leaning on our mother for support.

My father had been up all night, and the exhaustion showed plainly on his face.

Marlene saw me coming down the stairs and started screaming at me.

"Sharon Swanson, seeing me like this must make you so happy. I know you're scared I'll steal Mom and Dad from you."

"I don't blame you. But don't you think a trick like this is beneath contempt?"

I frowned. Was she saying it that way to make everyone misunderstand?

"You fell on your own. If I could have, of course I'd have caught you. It's just—"

"Enough!"

My father's hand went up out of nowhere.

Before I could even react, a slap landed square across my face.

"You're still arguing even now. Your sister may be blunt, but she doesn't lie, and she doesn't talk back to her parents."

"And you? From the moment you came back, you've turned this house upside down, and you still won't admit any fault."

"Sharon Swanson, we brought you home so you could defy your parents and hurt your sister?"

My face burned, and something like a wronged ache I couldn't name rose in me.

"I didn't."

I kept my head down, tears swimming in my eyes.

"You didn't? So Marlene made it all up? What a joke."

"I'd really like to ask the people at that orphanage exactly what they taught you."

"Starting today, you don't set one foot outside that room. When you understand what you did wrong, then you can come out."

Thinking of school starting tomorrow, I hesitated before speaking.

"But I—"

"There's no 'but.' Set one foot out of this house, and don't blame me for forgetting we're father and daughter and throwing you out of the Abbott family for good."

On her way past, Marlene murmured low, gloating.

"You're still too green to go up against me. Just wait. We're not done. I'll make you crawl out of the Abbott house on your own."

I didn't take her taunt to heart at all, because today I was leaving anyway.

I'd only come by on the way because Director Swanson had said that, good or bad, I ought to come see for myself what kind of people my birth parents were, what kind of home was mine.

Now that I'd seen it, it was time to go.

I hadn't gone far past the villa when a sports car came tearing past me and slammed straight into the fountain up ahead.

Marlene climbed out of the car, one hand in the cast, the other pressed to her head, cursing all the while.

She didn't like me. I'd seen that from the first day I set foot in the Abbott house.

Seeing her now, I turned to go, wanting nothing more to do with her.

But as I turned, I ran into my parents, who had come back partway.

They got out of the car, didn't so much as glance at me, and crowded around Marlene, their eyes full of worry.

"Marlene, are you all right? Does anything hurt?"

"Who was driving this car? How did it get wrecked like this? Where's the driver? Get over here."

It never occurred to them that the injured Marlene had been the one driving. They looked around for whoever had caused it.

"It was my sister. She was trying to drive off, and I was afraid Dad would be angry if he found out, so I ran out to talk her into coming home."

"But she wouldn't listen to me at all. Good thing I got out of the way, or else..."

When I saw Marlene's finger pointing at me, I stood there stunned for several seconds.

A disabled person with no arms, nearly running you over with a car?

By the time Marlene finished, the temperature all around seemed to drop a few degrees.

My father seemed to notice me for the first time, his eyes sizing me up.

"To think that my own daughter, Clive Abbott's daughter, would turn out to be someone like this."

"It seems bringing you back was not the right choice. Maybe heaven already made the right one for us eighteen years ago."

"Sharon Swanson, leave. I'll give you a sum of money, call it what we owe you for these eighteen years. From now on, don't come back to the Abbott family."

"Consider that we never had you. Don't come disturbing our lives again."

My mother covered her face and wept quietly, tears slipping through her fingers, letting her husband's decision stand.

They hadn't even given me a chance to defend myself before they'd handed down the verdict.

My heart felt like it took a blow, a sharp pain, but it scattered fast.

I didn't explain anything. I only shook my head, a little.

"I don't need your money. I have a scholarship. It's enough to finish college."

"I was leaving today anyway. The Abbott family, I won't ever come back to."

My father let out a scoffing laugh, as if he'd heard the biggest joke in the world.

"Fine. Since you've got so much backbone, don't ever come asking me for anything."

"I hope you look out for yourself."

They shielded Marlene into the car and, in the end, wouldn't even leave me a single goodbye.

The moment they were gone, my phone rang.

"Ms. Swanson, your private dorm is all set. I hear you've already arrived. Where are you? I'll send someone to pick you up."

I thanked them softly. The person on the line was unusually courteous.

"No need to thank us. You're the top scorer in the admissions exams. For you to choose our school is an honor for us."

The reunion with my birth family didn't leave much of a ripple in my life.

Once the semester started, everything got busy.

I'd joined the school's bionic prosthetic-arm project.

That was the whole reason I'd chosen this university.

I slept four hours a night, cycling between the lab, the library, and lectures, squeezing every last minute out of my days.

What I didn't know was that while I was practically shut away from the world, Director Swanson rode a car for more than ten hours to reach the Fox family's mansion.

"Hello, I'm here to see Sharon Swanson. The daughter the Fox family just found."

After the butler announced her, Clive and Phyllis came out together.

Clive looked the middle-aged woman up and down, and anger surfaced on his face.

"So you're the orphanage director, Swanson. And you actually have the nerve to show up here. I donated all that money to your orphanage, and this is how you repay me? Look at what you turned my daughter into."

Director Swanson didn't catch his meaning. She assumed I'd done something to upset them.

She put on a smile at once, her voice low and humble.

"Sharon's a bit stubborn, that's all, but she has a good heart. If she did something wrong, please don't take it to heart."

"These past years haven't been easy for her. As her parents, you should try to be more understanding."

"Where is Sharon? Let her come out, I'll talk to her. That little brat, now that she's got a real mom and dad she forgets all about her director. Not even one phone call."

Director Swanson was scolding me with her words, but her face was lit up brighter than anyone's.

Hearing the director call me a little brat, Phyllis frowned, her tone cooling.

"You've come too late. She isn't here."

"She tried to hurt my daughter. We couldn't keep her in this house."

The smile froze on Director Swanson's face.

"I'm sorry, what happened with Sharon? At the orphanage she was always so good, so obedient. Surely there's some misunderstanding."

"And isn't Sharon your daughter? Or do you mean the girl you adopted?"

Clive gave a cold snort, contempt dripping from his voice.

"Hmph. Misunderstanding?"

"Her very first day back, Marlene kindly brought her flowers. She kept her hands stuffed in her pockets and wouldn't even glance at them."

"We laid out a huge welcome dinner for her, a whole table of food, and she didn't touch a bite."

"She hunched over and gnawed on plain rice like a dog. Does she think the Fox household is some kennel?"

"We could put up with all of that. What she should never have done was hurt Marlene, over and over."

"Marlene may be adopted, but she's polite and kind. In our hearts, she's the one who's our real daughter."

The more she listened, the darker Director Swanson's face grew, until it looked ready to drip.

"That's enough. Mr. Abbott, Mrs. Abbott, I respect you as Sharon's parents, but she's the child I raised, and I won't let you slander her like this."

"Her hands may be gone, but she has never once blamed the world for it. At the orphanage she was always helping everyone with their work."

"A girl like that, and you're telling me she bullies people? I don't believe it."

Hearing her defend me, Phyllis let out a scoffing laugh.

"Oh, Director Swanson knows my daughter so well? Then did you know she got behind the wheel and tried to run Marlene down?"

"That isn't slander. That's a fact."

Director Swanson was so furious she laughed.

"You're saying Sharon drove a car trying to kill your adopted daughter? That's the biggest joke I've heard in my entire life."

Her hand shaking, she tapped her phone awake. The lock screen was a photo I'd taken at the beach last summer.

The girl in it was smiling brightly, missing only that pair of quick, nimble hands.

Phyllis snatched the phone from her, and her face changed in an instant.

"This... this is impossible!!!!"