When my collar was furiously yanked, I met Jeffrey's eyes and nodded solemnly. "I understand."

I had no intention of competing with Rhianne in the first place. And even if I wanted to, could I possibly win?

I was but an imposter. Who would stand by me?

"Alright, you both are being too harsh. How could you be so authoritarian with El? I'm not made of paper—I'll be fine," Rhianne chipped in.

The situation was about to settle down when she stepped in again, affectionately wrapping her arms around me. "El, let's go have fun together. Just ignore these annoying men!"

She was acting rather spoiled. Jeffrey ruffled her hair dotingly. Even Ivor, who was usually expressionless, had a warm smile.

They were the epitome of a happily ever after.

"It's okay. It's only what I deserve."

I subtly distanced myself from Rhianne, but she didn't seem to catch on. Every time I pulled away, she pulled me back.

"Eleanor."

All of a sudden, Jeffrey growled at me. Perhaps my actions were upsetting his precious darling.

He shot me a glare before unceremoniously dragging me into the study. Knowingly, Ivor followed close behind.

They dismissed Rhianne. It was evident that they were going to warn me to behave.

This time, I didn't cause a scene like I did during the engagement fiasco. Even my aching, bitter heart had grown numb.

"Mr. Shaw, Mr. Rhett, please rest assured. I only returned to retrieve my belongings. I won't compete with Rhianne for anything."

I made a point to use my most courteous tone, but Jeffrey still scanned me with distrust. "Your room has the best lighting in the house, so I let Rhianne move in. Your belongings have been relocated to a guest room."

His words were a direct order. I responded with a muted "Okay".

"And my home as well," Ivor added coldly. "I hope you know your place. Since you're back, go make some soup. Rhianne likes what you cook. She treated you well all those years—you're not going to refuse, are you?"

Making soup was the only skill I had mastered over the past 20-odd years, all thanks to the two men standing before me.

Now, they wanted me to make it for someone else. Had this happened in the past, I would have put up a fight.

But now, I merely nodded calmly.

"I'm on it."

I wasn't sure how I made it to the kitchen, but the act of staying busy helped me forget many things. Things like unhappiness and exhaustion.

Having received wind, Rhianne showed up in the kitchen shortly after. "El, thank you for cooking for me."

"It's nothing." I didn't look up at her but rather remained focused on my work.

"What are you making? Can I help?"

Like a curious child, Rhianne wandered around, her movements full of naïve energy. She tried to touch the pot lid, which was unquestionably scalding hot. I panicked and tried to stop her.

But she was faster. She burned herself and instinctively flung the lid aside, spilling hot soup onto me.

The lid, as if it had a will of its own, landed directly on my leg.

A loud crash echoed as I collided with the ground, unable to utter a sound from the pain.

"What happened?"

Jeffrey was the first to rush in, visibly anxious. In his haste, he stepped on my hand while dashing straight to Rhianne's side.

"Eleanor, I warned you already. What kind of tantrum are you throwing now? Don't forget your place," he berated through gritted teeth.

Before I could pull back my red and swollen hand, Ivor trod right over the same spot.

"Eleanor, is this the upbringing you received?"

Three pairs of eyes bore into me as I blew gently on my throbbing hand and staggered to my feet.

"Jeff, Ives, this has nothing to do with El. I wanted to help, but I didn't realize the lid would be so hot. Don't blame her. She didn't do it on purpose."

They always said that children from poor families had no choice but to grow up quickly. Whenever they scolded me, they would talk about how Rhianne endured countless hardships in my place.

But now that something actually happened, they seemed to have forgotten something. Surely, someone who had supposedly suffered so much would know better than to touch a scalding lid!

"Stop trying to deny it, Eleanor. I know exactly what you're thinking. You must be jealous of Rhianne. I never thought you'd become so cunning! You say everything's fine, but your actions clearly show you wish nothing but harm upon her. I feel ashamed to have ever called you my sister."

After Jeffrey spat out those nasty words, he raised a hand over his mouth. A hint of unease flashed across his face. He knew his words would hurt me, knew I wouldn't be able to handle them. Yet, he said them anyway.

"Jeff, don't say that about her. It's all my fault. It's been a long time since I've done any chores—I must have just forgotten."

Rhianne tried to smooth things over, but Ivor only glanced at me with dissatisfaction.

"Rhianne, you're too kind. That's why this woman keeps bullying you over and over again. Look at your hand! It's so red. Come on, let's get some ointment on it."

Though Jeffrey didn't criticize me further, his expression made it clear he blamed me too.

"Clean up the kitchen."

Before he walked out the door, Ivor tossed me a glance.

This time, I had no expectations and, therefore, no disappointment. Still, the pain was unbearable. It felt like my knees were about to give out.

"Miss, do you need any help?"

The enormous kitchen was in a state of chaos. The passing household staff only whispered among themselves, unwilling to lend a hand. Only one young girl stood behind me, cautiously offering her support.

"It's okay. I'll manage."

I gritted my teeth, enduring the pain in my calf. The girl blinked apologetically and pointed at the blisters forming on my skin.

"I think you should do something about those burns, miss. Scars won't look good on a girl."

Her voice was soft, and her hands were quick. Within minutes, the kitchen was spotless.

"Thank you."

I hadn't realized until just now how much I was hurting. If it weren't for the girl, I might have collapsed unnoticed.

"You don't need to thank me, miss. Don't feel bad; I believe in you. You have such a kind heart, and that's why others bully you. Let me help you get some ointment."

For the first time since returning to this house, I felt a shred of kindness.

It was a strange sensation, like my years of effort had finally yielded a small reward.

Later that evening, I lay in bed researching after tending to my wounds. My thoughts were interrupted by laughter that came from outside the door.

They were about to head out. Following Rhianne's minor burn earlier that day, they had planned a trip abroad to cheer her up.

"Are we not inviting El?"

Before they left, I overheard Rhianne's concerned question.

Ivor, in his typical dismissive tone, paid her a few compliments and casually replied, "There's no need. She's old enough. Besides, she's traveled to so many places since she was a kid. It's not like she needs to fight you for one reward. Let's just go ourselves. She'd probably just cause you trouble if she did come."

His tone carried the same arrogant confidence it always had. Whenever I got bullied when I was younger, he would pull me close and tell others, "She's mine. No one gets to mess with her."

As the light from my laptop faded and reignited, the darkness hid my tears.

As it turned out, love could never disappear—it just found someone else to hold onto.

In the blink of an eye, it was the day of my departure, which also happened to be my birthday.

Every year, Jeffrey would throw a grand banquet for me, inviting people from all over in my honor.

Ivor, in particular, would always prepare the most unique, extravagant gifts. And none of them were repeated.

For many years, I always looked forward to this day of the year. This time, however, I had my head hung low.

"Miss, Mr. Shaw said he will be taking Ms. Rhianne out for the day, so he won't be coming back."

The servant cast me a disdainful glance, silently mocking my lack of self-awareness.

I turned a blind eye and went into the kitchen to cook myself a meal.

Over the years, I had never once done housework. Jeffrey rarely let me into the kitchen. I could only make soup. As a result, Ivor had honed his cooking skills to cater to my picky tastes.

Cooking for myself filled me with a strange mix of desolation and accomplishment.

So this was how it felt to cook your own meal. I closed my eyes, trembling as tears escaped and fell into the food.

"Happy birthday, Eleanor Shaw," I whispered to myself. "Keep moving forward—onward forever. Even if no one loves you, there's still light at the end of the tunnel. As Jeffrey said, you have enjoyed over 20 wonderful years of wealth and privilege. You've had it good."

Just like that, I repeated words of comfort to myself as I wiped away my tears. I moved all my belongings that I had sorted out over the past two weeks in the living room.

Aside from a few items of clothing in an unsellable state, I had converted all my jewelry into cash.

I managed to bag 1.6 million dollars in total, a sum not enough to repay everything I'd spent over the years. However, the state had given out subsidies to everyone participating in the new program.

I transferred that money to my family's account, too. If it still wasn't enough, I could only remit part of my monthly salary back home.

"Eleanor, what in the world are you doing?"

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice Jeffrey's return. He was headed straight for the study.

I knew that I shouldn't be expecting anything, but on a day like today, I couldn't help it.

I turned to him. "Jeff, hi."

That familiar word felt surprisingly heavy on my tongue. Jeffrey stopped in his steps, and I noticed the bunch of keys in his hand.

They were pink—my favorite color, just as I remembered.

"Why do you have the keys?"

My question was somewhat redundant. He shot me a look of displeasure and said, "Rhianne doesn't have a place of her own yet. This villa has just been completed and is now ready; I'm taking her to view it. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nope."

I clasped my hands behind my back, digging my nails into my skin until I bled. Jeffrey looked at me and continued, "Stop playing these childish games, Eleanor. Ives and I were the ones who funded the construction of these villas. We can give it to whoever we want. You've already taken more than enough. Remember, Rhianne is my real sister. She is the rightful Ms. Shaw and deserves to live a life our family can provide. Do you hear me?"

"Crystal clear." I nodded meekly.

It was then that his gaze fell on the feast I had prepared. He sighed in annoyance. "I can't believe I forgot it's Rhianne's birthday today. Eat up by yourself. I'm leaving now."

So he did remember. My carefully composed thoughts unraveled completely.

If Jeffrey remembered, Ivor surely did, too.

Yet, they couldn't care less. They only had Rhianne in their eyes. Even the house they had prepared for me now belonged to her.

I had always known my place. In fact, I felt guilty toward Rhianne.

But the truth was I had never wanted to fight her for anything—not this home, my brother, or Ivor.

As long as she wanted it, I was willing to give it all up.

I only had one small wish—to share a meal together. But now, it seemed even that was merely a dream.

It was about time for me to leave. Only then would they all be happy.