Chapter 3

Chloe held her dog, shaking and crying.

Mom and Dad comforted her on both sides.

"Don't worry, Waffles is fine."

"Mom saved both of you."

Chloe finally smiled through her tears.

No one looked back at me.

The guard wanted to steer back toward me, but a sudden gale warning blared over the radio.

To keep the rescue boat from capsizing, he had to take the passengers and the dog back to the pier first.

The sound of the engine faded away.

My bleeding, cut hands could no longer hold onto anything.

As the saltwater covered my chin, I stopped crying out.

They say before you die, you see the happiest moments of your life.

Images indeed began to flash before my eyes.

Back then, Chloe hadn't been born yet.

No matter how busy Dad was, he would always show up at my preschool on time so I could be the first kid picked up.

Mom’s phone wallpaper was always me. Her Instagram was filled with my pictures, every post bragging about how I was the best daughter in the world.

At night, they would each hold one of my hands and say with a smile:

"Mya is Mom and Dad's most precious little girl."

When I was seven, I stayed up for nights to draw those one hundred Wish Coupons.

When Mom received them, she held me close and kissed me over and over.

Dad couldn't bear to use them. He tucked them carefully into his wallet.

"Our Mya is so good. How could we ever bear to ask you for anything?"

The seven-year-old me could never have guessed.

The people who would use these coupons to force me to give up everything, time and time again, would be them.

The night Chloe was born, Dad stroked my hair and promised:

"This doesn't mean you have less love. It means you have one more sister to love you."

But every time Chloe cried, Mom’s grip on me would loosen.

In the beginning, they just asked me to let Chloe have the hugs.

Then it was my birthdays, my toys, and their time.

Eventually, even my parents became something I had to give up.

During the summer break when I was eight, they took Chloe to an island resort for the first time.

I ran to the door with red eyes.

"I want to go too."

Mom was putting a sun hat on Chloe. She didn't even look up.

"Your sister is fragile. Taking two kids is too exhausting."

"You stay at Grandma's this time. We will definitely bring you next time."

I stood on the balcony, watching their car disappear at the intersection.

That was the first time I was left behind.

But it wasn't the last.

Every time after that, they always had an excuse to choose Chloe over me.

When I was fourteen, I had acute appendicitis. I was curled up on the floor in agony.

When Mom picked up the phone, she was watching Chloe's dance competition.

"This is her first time on stage. She’ll be terrified if she doesn't see us."

"You’re fourteen now. If your stomach hurts, go to the hospital yourself. Stop trying to steal your sister's spotlight."

I ended up fainting in front of the apartment lobby. A neighbor called the ambulance.

By the time Mom and Dad arrived with Chloe and her trophy, my surgery was already over.

Mom didn't ask if I was in pain. Instead, she complained to the nurse:

"Mya always exaggerates. She loves making a big deal out of nothing just to get attention."

Dad held Chloe's medal in front of my face.

"She trained for six months for this. As her sister, you should be happy for her."

I had just gotten out of surgery and could barely sit up, but I forced myself to say congratulations.

Only then were they satisfied.

After that, I stopped asking them for help.

I went to the hospital alone when I was sick. I walked home in the rain by myself. I stopped waiting for birthday cakes.

But they just said:

"Mya is much stronger than Chloe. We don't have to worry about her."

They used their neglect to teach me independence, and then used that independence as an excuse to never choose me.

So, when Mom invited me on this trip two weeks ago, I was too excited to sleep.

She said over the phone:

"This time, the whole family will be together. Not one of us can be missing."

I took my annual leave and spent my entire bonus booking their flights.

But when we got to the hotel, I found out the two-bedroom suite only had rooms for them and Chloe.

I had to sleep on a rollaway bed in the living room.

I couldn't help but ask why they didn't just book another room.

Dad's face darkened instantly.

"We brought you on vacation, and you’re already complaining?"

Mom sighed. "We’re here to have fun as a family. Do you have to ruin everyone's mood over a room?"

During those days, I woke up early to walk the dog, carry their bags, stand in lines, and take photos for them.

When registering for the boat tour, the staff asked if I was family. Chloe laughed and said:

"No, she’s just our dog sitter."

Mom and Dad stood right there. Neither of them corrected her.

Chloe posted the photos I took on Instagram.

[A family vacation with Waffles. Finally!]

In the photo, Dad was holding Mom, and Chloe was holding the dog in the center.

I wasn’t in the frame.

But I still gave it a quiet like.

At least this time, I got to see the same ocean with them.