Chapter 1

On Christmas Day, my parents decided to add my sister Chloe's name to the family trust.

As the lawyer prepared the documents, he glanced at me. "And this young lady? Should she be included as well?"

My mother waved a hand dismissively. "No need. She's just a foster child."

Ever since Chloe was brought back home, I—their biological daughter—had become the outsider.

All because Chloe insisted she was the only daughter in the family. If anyone so much as mentioned that I was blood-related, she'd have a PTSD episode—screaming, crying, the whole breakdown.

Eventually, everyone just accepted it: "The Haper family only has one real daughter. The other one's a foster kid."

At first, I tried to correct them. I was their real daughter too.

But my parents would go pale and snap at me: "Chloe already struggles with insecurity. It's such a small thing—do you really have to push her over the edge?"

Then came the day I got my acceptance letter from Stanford. A background investigator showed up at our door.

"Ms. Kent, what is Kate's relationship to you?"

My mother's voice was breezy. "Oh, she's just a foster child we took in."

Right there, I froze.

After the investigator left, I took matters into my own hands. I filed for independent status and booked a one-way ticket to California.

Since they refused to claim me as their daughter, then in seven days, I'd stop being the extra person in their house.

Chapter 1

The investigator blinked at my mother's words. "Ma'am, according to the application, Kate is your biological daughter. Not a foster child."

Chloe started fidgeting beside her.

My mother squeezed her hand and shot back: "There must be a mistake. We only have one biological daughter in this family—Chloe."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "Mom, this is a background check for my college admission. It matters. Why would you lie?"

She wouldn't budge, so I turned to my father.

He cleared his throat and doubled down. "Mrs. Kent is right. Kate's always been embarrassed about being fostered—she probably filled out the paperwork wrong to save face."

The investigator raised an eyebrow, then his eyes drifted to the wall covered in family portraits—just the three of them. He didn't press further. He gathered his things and stood.

"Ms. Kate, since your application doesn't match the facts, I'm putting this review on hold. You'll hear from us."

The door clicked shut.

My ears were ringing. I could barely stay upright.

My mother shoved a vacuum into my hands. "There's still a ton of housework to do. Don't just stand there."

Chloe had already retreated to her room, gossiping with her friends on video chat.

I dropped the vacuum. My voice shook. "You knew how important this review was. Why did you lie?!"

My mother glanced nervously at Chloe's door and hissed: "Keep it down! Chloe already has abandonment issues. Why would I say something that would hurt her?"

My father frowned. "It's just a minor hiccup. You can reapply. Next time Chloe's not around, we'll cooperate."

Ever since Chloe came home, everything—everything—was about making her feel secure. And I was the one who always had to give.

I remembered the community family day years ago. A neighbor casually remarked that Chloe and I looked just like sisters.

Chloe completely lost it.

My mother rushed to hold her and said it for the first time: "We only have one daughter in this house—Chloe. Kate is a foster child."

The looks everyone gave me that day—the pity, the confusion—I still can't forget.

I turned to go to my room. My father called after me:

"By the way, which school accepted you?"

"Stanford—"

Before I could finish, Chloe came shrieking out of her room. "Mom! Dad! I won a community competition! Three hundred dollars!"

My mother swept her into a hug, kissed her cheek, and immediately posted about it on Instagram. My father, without a second thought, transferred two thousand dollars as a reward.

The three of them, wrapped up in each other, glowed.

Last year, I won first place in a statewide competition. The only one.

I thought maybe—just maybe—they'd say something.

They barely glanced at it. "Move aside, you're blocking the frame." They were busy getting Chloe's volunteer certificate mounted and framed.

They even threw a small party and hired a photographer for the occasion.

No one remembered that day was also my birthday.

I went to my room, pulled out a suitcase, and started packing.

My phone buzzed. It was my Stanford advisor.

"Kate, why did the background check get paused? What happened? Your paperwork is perfectly fine."

My throat tightened. I told her everything.

Her voice softened. "Don't worry. It's a minor issue. I'll write a letter explaining everything. We'll get this fixed."

I choked out a thank you and hung up.

Then the tears came. Flooding.

Everyone else—my advisor, my guidance counselor, friends who'd written recommendations—they'd all been so careful. Some had even rehearsed what to say so they wouldn't mess up my review.

But my own parents couldn't be bothered.

I pulled up my phone and booked a flight to California.

If they didn't want a daughter, I'd stop being one.

Seven days.

Chapter 2

The next morning, the investigator called back. Stanford was giving me a second chance.

I rushed downstairs to tell my parents.

"Tomorrow afternoon, the investigator is going to my high school. You need to be there."

My mother was sitting on the couch, braiding Chloe's hair, her back to me.

I said it again. She cut me off impatiently: "Fine, fine. Chloe's friends are coming over this afternoon. Go clean up her room."

"Chloe can clean her own room."

"She sprained her ankle in middle school—she can't do heavy work. Just go. Stop making excuses."

She remembered an ankle sprain from years ago.

She forgot I broke my wrist in a car accident last month. The pins hadn't even been removed yet.

The doorbell rang. Chloe's friends poured in—three perfectly styled girls, their perfume filling the living room.

A blonde one looked me up and down. "Can you get me some water? Ice cold."

I walked into the kitchen without a word.

Behind me, I heard whispers.

"Chloe, is that the foster kid living with you?"

"You're so generous letting her stay here for free."

"If it were me, I'd have kicked her out ages ago."

I gripped the glass, walked back in, and said: "I'm not a foster kid. I'm their biological daughter."

The girls froze.

Chloe's face went white. She looked at my mother, desperate.

My mother shot to her feet. "Kate! What are you saying?"

"I'm telling the truth. If you don't believe me, the birth certificate is in the filing cabinet."

After Chloe's friends left, she glared at me with red-rimmed eyes. On her way upstairs, she rammed into my injured wrist.

The pain doubled me over.

My mother didn't even look at me. She was too busy soothing Chloe: "Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe..."

When I finally straightened up, I saw Chloe standing at the top of the stairs. In her hands—my astronomy model.

I'd saved up an entire semester for that. It was my gift to myself for getting into college.

My eyes went wide. I watched her drop it.

Crash.

"That's mine!" I screamed.

My mother's face hardened. "It's just a cheap thing. Do you have to make a scene?"

"Chloe's emotions are delicate. You provoked her in front of everyone—of course she lashed out. What did you expect?"

"She broke my stuff!"

"Your stuff? You bought it with our money, didn't you?"

I went cold.

They gave me two hundred dollars a month—to "teach me independence." Chloe got a thousand for food alone, plus everything else covered.

That model didn't cost them a cent.

No one noticed my wrist. No one asked if I was okay.

I didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

My mother wrapped an arm around Chloe. "Stop crying. That bag you wanted—it's here. I'll buy it for you."

As they came back down, Chloe stepped on the shattered pieces, grinding them into the floor with a smug look.

I knelt and picked up the fragments. I couldn't put them back together.

It reminded me of years ago. I'd called her "sister" in front of her classmates just once. That night, she cut up my favorite stuffed animal.

I wiped my eyes and told myself:

Kate, don't be scared. Soon you'll be out of this cage.

Chapter 3

That night, my father came to my room after learning what happened.

He handed me a velvet box.

"Kate, Chloe was out of line today. Don't hold it against her. Your sister had a rough childhood." He paused. "This is my apology."

I opened the box. A silver necklace lay inside. I felt a strange pang—this might be the first gift they'd ever given me.

I took it. "Thank you, Dad. And don't forget tomorrow's review—"

Before I could finish, Chloe's voice rang up the stairs: "Dad! Come see my new bag!"

He headed downstairs without looking back.

I stood in the doorway, staring at the necklace. Then I glanced at my phone—Chloe's latest Instagram post. The same necklace was one of many gifts she'd shown off.

My suitcase was nearly packed. Three shirts, two pairs of pants, one hoodie, a jacket. And the model fragments. That was everything I had.

The next morning, I went upstairs after breakfast.

Chloe was standing in my room, holding the necklace.

She looked up and shrieked: "You stole from me!"

My head spun. "Dad gave that to me last night. Ask him."

The noise brought my mother. She didn't ask questions. "How dare you steal Chloe's things?"

"I didn't steal. Dad gave it to me."

But my father had already left for work.

My mother frowned. "I see you're just jealous of your sister. Apologize, now."

Before I could say anything, she opened my drawer and pulled out an envelope with two thousand dollars inside.

"Consider this compensation for your sister."

That was my summer savings—from hauling boxes at a warehouse.

"That's mine! Give it back!" I lunged. Chloe clutched it to her chest. My mother shoved me hard.

"Ungrateful brat. A foster kid acting like she belongs here."

I froze. My grip loosened. Chloe snatched the money.

My father appeared at the top of the stairs. He heard everything. "Don't talk like that in front of the kids," he snapped at my mother.

Then he looked at Chloe. "I gave that necklace to your sister. Give the money back."

Chloe sneered, threw the cash at me—bills scattering across the floor.

"That? I couldn't even buy a pair of sunglasses with that. I don't want it."

My father sighed, still unwilling to scold her seriously. "Kate, your sister's just immature. Forgive her this once. Chloe, apologize to your sister."

"No!" Chloe shoved past me and ran downstairs. My mother followed.

My father picked up the scattered bills and placed them on my desk.

I looked at him, voice cracked. "Dad, am I really your biological daughter?"

At that moment, I almost wished he'd say no. Then I could accept why they didn't love me.

He furrowed his brow. "Of course you are. Your mother just speaks without thinking. Don't hold it against her."

From downstairs, Chloe's fake sobs rose.

He hurried down.

Chapter 4

That afternoon, I arrived at school early.

My parents never showed.

I called, frantic. "Mom, Dad, my interview—are you almost here?"

My father answered. "Kate, we can't make it right now. We're picking out a kitten for Chloe. She's been wanting one forever."

"But—"

"Dad! Stop talking! Look at this Ragdoll—isn't she adorable?"

The line went dead.

I stood at the school gate, phone in hand, chest hollow.

I went to the interview alone and told the investigator the truth.

She paused, then pulled out a letter—from my Stanford advisor.

"Your advisor explained everything in advance and vouched for you personally. We'll continue with the review. Don't worry."

I stared at that thin sheet of paper. Tears slid down my face.

I came home feeling lighter.

Then I opened the door.

Everything stopped.

My suitcase was upside down. Clothes scattered everywhere. My Stanford acceptance letter—Chloe had it under her shoe, grinding it into the floor.

She was directing workers to clear out my room.

"Take your foot off that," I said, voice flat.

Chloe shrugged, grinding harder. "This room's going to be my pet's room."

The workers paused, looking uncomfortable.

My parents walked in carrying the new kitten.

I turned to them. "Why?"

My mother said casually: "Chloe's therapist thinks a pet will help with her anxiety."

"You're leaving for college soon anyway. This room would be empty. It's perfect for her cat."

"And where am I supposed to live?"

My father set the cat down and pointed to the storage closet. "You're only here a few more days. Just clear it out—it'll be fine."

I took a breath, shoved past Chloe, and picked up my trampled acceptance letter.

Chloe exploded. "Kate just pushed me!"

My father's face went dark. "Apologize to your sister. Now."

My eyes burned. "I wish I weren't your biological daughter."

My mother clutched her chest. "It's such a small thing—why are you so dramatic?"

"I raised you all these years, and this is how you treat me?"

My father patted her back. "Kate, apologize to your mother."

Chloe, still fuming, kicked a cup off the table.

The shattering glass startled the kitten. It lashed out—claws raking across my thigh.

I bit back a cry. Didn't argue.

I picked up my letter and walked out the door without another word.

My mother's shouting followed me down the street.

I went to a clinic to get the wound treated.

Then I took all the documents I'd prepared and filed for independent residency.

I stared at my new ID. From now on, I wouldn't have to cater to Chloe's whims. I wouldn't have to beg for love that would never come.

At the airport, a text from Chloe popped up: Better not come back.

I replied: Okay.

As the plane lifted off, I watched the city shrink below me.

The cage I'd carried for seventeen years finally unlocked.

I was free.