When the wealthy couple came to the orphanage to choose a child, they hesitated between me and Emily. A barrage of floating comments scrolled before my eyes: [The side character is going to act pitiful again just to get adopted.] [Even if she gets adopted, she'll just be abandoned later.] [Destined to be unloved and unwanted forever, a typical pick-me girl.] I lowered my head silently. Because the "side character" they were talking about was me. Suddenly, two shadows loomed over me. A couple never mentioned in the plot looked down at me, their faces full of delight. "Oh my gosh, this girl is adorable!" "Sweetheart, we're having pot roast for dinner tonight. It's delicious! Want to come home with us?" 1 A beat-up sedan. A brand-new Maybach. Both stopped in front of Emily and me. The wealthy couple seemed torn. Emily and I were the most suitable candidates. But we both had flaws. One wasn't pretty enough; the other wasn't kind enough. After much deliberation, they finally walked toward me. The comments scrolled again: [Are they blind? Picking the malicious one over our precious Emily just because she's prettier?] [Doesn't matter. She'll be returned anyway.] [It's all just setting the stage to highlight Emily's kindness later. Don't worry.] The next second. A couple with a distinct Southern drawl appeared in front of me. Their eyes were full of joy. "Oh wow, this girl is precious." "Looks like she's meant to be ours." "Sweetheart, wanna come with us?" "We're having pot roast tonight. It's real good!" I looked at the comments, blinked. Before the wealthy couple could reach me. I turned. And threw myself into the arms of the woman in the cotton dress. 2 I've been able to see these comments since I was very young. Resources in the orphanage were scarce, and we often had to fight for them. Emily and I fought growing up. Every time I managed to grab a new notebook or a piece of clothing, these comments would pop up and curse me. They said you can see a person's future at seven. Being so unscrupulous now, no wonder everyone hates her when she grows up. I didn't understand back then. What was wrong with wanting a better life? As I grew older, I realized I was just a foil for Emily. My selfishness and greed were destined to highlight her resilience and kindness. As the villainess, I would only become twisted and evil after repeated failures. But this time. I really didn't want to be the one being compared anymore. When I got into the sedan, Emily visibly relaxed. The comments gloated: [Haha, so stupid. Giving up the rich heiress life for a bowl of pot roast.] [This is her life now. She and our Emily will be in different social classes forever.] [Her character is designed to be annoying. No matter who adopts her, she'll end up abandoned. Can't wait to see her downfall.] Will I be abandoned? I carefully looked up at the man driving. He glanced in the rearview mirror and met my eyes. He immediately grinned: "Shy, huh? Go ahead and look, we're family now." "I'm Jim, and this is Mary. I'm a cop, she's a teacher. Decent jobs, don't worry." "Make yourself at home with us, okay?" Mary laughed heartily: "Your uncle's right. Don't be stiff." "By the way, when we did the paperwork, your name was just 'Five'. What's your real name, honey?" I looked down, picking at the skin on my fingers. The comments said I was destined to be abandoned anyway. So a name didn't matter. "I don't have a real name. Just Five." 3 Uncle Jim's pot roast really smelled amazing. I could smell it as soon as I walked in. I sat at the table, reserved. Remembering the director's instructions before I left: "Be polite in someone else's home. Don't eat too much." I was starving, but I only dared to take small bites. But Jim and Mary kept piling food into my bowl. The bowl, bigger than my face, was heaped like a mountain. "This is good, these mushrooms are from a friend upstate, super fresh." "Eat more meat, you're too skinny." "This roast, I'm telling you, it's the best. Southern style." "What's wrong, honey? Not eating? Not to your taste?" "Jim! I told you to make something local, you insisted on Southern food. She's not used to it! Now what!" "My bad, my bad. What do you like? Uncle will make it for you." The orphanage meal budget was a dollar fifty a day. The tiny bits of meat in the green bean stir-fry were the best thing in my memory. I was happy whenever I got a little extra. But it turned out, besides the best, there could be a favorite. I didn't want them to misunderstand, so I immediately buried my face in the bowl and shoveled food. "I like it! I like it very much!" Southern food is delicious. I wanted to stay in this home a little longer. I was surprised I could be so greedy. 4 They were good people. After dinner, they took me shopping at the mall. Everything from daily necessities to the clothes on my back was replaced with new ones. It was late when we got home. I put on my new pajamas and curled up in the corner of the bed. In the orphanage, several people often shared a bed. If you took up too much space, others would be cramped. Curling up became my sleeping habit. As I drifted off... It seemed someone walked into my room and squatted gently by my bed. "Jim, do you think those comments we saw today were hallucinations?" "One person seeing it might be a hallucination, but not two." "What they said was too much. How bad can a child be?" "As long as we treat her well, this child won't go astray." "But honestly, I love this girl from the bottom of my heart. Once she's here, she's our own daughter. No one will bully her ever again." I was half-asleep, unable to open my eyes. But I could feel them gently moving me to the center of the bed. It was soft and spacious here. No one would crowd me on purpose, and I wouldn't wake up aching all over. This was the most peaceful sleep I had ever had. 5 They say loving someone is like raising a flower. Jim and Mary loved me like raising a piglet. Southern portions were huge, and every dish went well with rice. From forcing myself to eat only half a bowl at first. To eating two big bowls a meal now. The director said eating too much at someone's house would make them unhappy. The comments also popped up often, saying: [What's so good about this? Eating like she's never seen food before. Is she a pig reincarnated?] [Glad our Emily went with the rich couple. Michelin meals every day, my dream life.] [Sigh, maybe she was starved in the orphanage. Revenge eating, like a starving ghost. I think this couple will get sick of her soon.] Before, whenever the comments compared me to Emily, I would be jealous. Jealous that she got better things, jealous that she got a good life effortlessly. I wanted to snatch everything she had. But this time, my heart was calm. Uncle Jim's cooking was delicious. Every time he watched me finish my food, he smiled so happily. Completely opposite to the comments saying they would despise me for eating too much. Aunt Mary was great too. She had never cooked before but tried for me. Once she fried some sausages. We ended up chugging a gallon of water. Uncle Jim came back from duty and whipped up three dishes and a soup in no time. He ordered Aunt Mary never to cook on a whim again. Auntie chuckled and promised never to touch the kitchen. Later, when Uncle Jim was too busy to cook, Aunt Mary took me out to eat. I didn't know food came in so many cuisines. Dazzling, filling my eyes before my stomach. Every time, Aunt Mary would order a table full of food. Even though the two of us couldn't finish it, she insisted. She said: "What other kids have eaten, our kid must try too." I buried my head eating. But I could taste my own tears. It turns out love is every meal eaten together.
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