The Family Test Was Their Perfect Lie

My parents worshipped meritocracy. In their eyes, only the most exceptional child deserved to be raised.

Every year they tested me and my adopted sister. Whoever passed got to stay. Whoever failed was sent to a juvenile detention facility.

And I had been failing for five years running.

Because I never measured up, they refused to acknowledge me as their biological daughter. My name wasn't even on their household registration. It was filed under a distant cousin-aunt's family instead.

The sixth time they brought me back, my father slid two sealed exam packets across the table.

"Work hard this time. We don't enjoy sending you back every year either."

Before the test began, a servant accidentally knocked the packet off the corner of the table, and through the torn seal I caught a glimpse of the questions.

My first problem was to prove the Riemann Hypothesis.

On my sister's pink exam sheet, there was a single line.

【On what month and day were Mom and Dad each born? Wrong answers can be retaken with a little coaxing.】

Seeing how pale I'd gone, my mother rushed to explain.

"Your sister's younger. Of course we can't make her questions too hard."

"You're the older one. Excellence is what earns you our recognition. If you can't even prove that much worth, why should we waste resources on you?"

"If you don't pass this year, there's always next time. As long as you try, you can always come home."

I'd waited from grade school all the way through high school, waited until my body was covered in old scars the detention facility left behind.

So it turned out it wasn't that I wasn't good enough. From the very beginning, they'd never meant to let me pass.

My aunt was emigrating next month. A few days ago she'd asked if I wanted to leave with her.

Back then, I still wanted to try one more time.

But now, I gave up.

This family loyalty test ended here.

All I wanted was to never come home again, not for the rest of my life.

——

Seeing me sit there with my head down, saying nothing,

my parents exchanged a glance and, for the first time, spoke with an air of generosity.

"You don't have to go back today."

"Stay home a couple of days. You can return to the facility Monday, the day after tomorrow."

I froze for a moment.

Every time I'd failed a test before, I'd knelt on the floor sobbing, clinging to my mother's leg, begging her to let me stay just a little longer.

I was so afraid of going back. And I missed them so much.

But every single time, they'd pried my fingers loose without a flicker of hesitation.

"A good child follows the rules. Fail the test, and you accept the punishment at once."

"If we let you stay, the test loses all its power to motivate you."

Thinking that in three days I'd be leaving with my aunt,

this was probably the last time I'd ever spend with them.

I nodded in silence.

……

That evening, my parents laid out a whole table of food.

Steamed crab, garlic scallops, spicy crawfish, and the seafood chowder my sister loved best.

At the table, my sister curled her hands in delicately, complaining that the crawfish shells were too hard, that peeling them hurt her fingertips.

My father set down his chopsticks at once, and my mother smiled as she pulled on a pair of gloves.

The two of them peeled shell after shell, and before long the little bowl in front of her was piled high.

Halfway through her meal, my sister shot me a timid glance. "Sis, I'm sorry. I forgot you were home too."

"Mom and Dad forgot to peel some for you. Let me give you a few to try."

A warmth crept into my mother's eyes.

"That's our Susan Pruitt, always so thoughtful."

I lowered my gaze to the shrimp in the bowl and said softly,

"I'm allergic to seafood."

My sister's eyes went red instantly.

My mother's face darkened, and she set down her chopsticks.

"What kind of attitude is that? Susan was kind enough to share her food, and you have to say something like that right in front of her, just to make her feel bad?"

My father frowned at me too.

"An allergy isn't something to be proud of. Your own constitution is weak, and you'd throw it out there to guilt your sister?"

I gripped my chopsticks tight and said nothing.