Over the holidays, my adopted sister Wanda brought my boyfriend Boyce home and announced their engagement. My parents gave their blessing. Boyce looked thrilled. I caught the warning buried in his glance at me, and offered a calm little smile. "You two make a beautiful couple. Congratulations." But that night, once everyone else was asleep, he slipped into my room, his face dark. "You just—gave me up to your sister, just like that? Then what were the last seven years?" … "Call it a doctor-patient relationship." His expression cracked. His fingers started worrying against each other—an old tic of his, the one that surfaced whenever his nerves got the better of him. Every other time he'd had an episode, I would've been the first to soothe him. Tonight, I simply looked away. "You're taking Wanda to confirm the engagement venue tomorrow. Get some sleep." He didn't move. He stayed pressed against the door, his breathing audibly uneven. "And what about you? What about us? Our seven years?" I paused, then almost laughed. Where did he find the nerve to bring up our seven years? I had spent seven years walking beside a man with severe social anxiety and emotional dysregulation, coaxing him back into something resembling a normal life. Sitting through his therapy. His rehabilitation. Teaching him, slowly, how to build connections with other people again. And in the end—he became my sister's fiancé. For as long as I could remember, Wanda had been the favorite. She was always at the center of every room, and I was always the one expected to step aside. The night before an SAT exam, I still had to stay up talking to her. Three sleepless days at work meant nothing—I was still dragged to Disneyland to keep her company. What I felt had never mattered. I gave him a faint smile. "I wish you both happiness." Boyce stood frozen. It was a long time before he turned and walked out. I shut the door, sat back down at my desk, and looked at the email I'd already drafted. The recipient was a top-tier psychiatric center in Boston. I stared at the screen a long while, then pressed send. --- Early the next morning, I'd planned to round everyone up for a trip out to the lighthouse—until I saw Wanda's Instagram post. 【They say if you watch a sunrise together, you'll be happy for the rest of your lives. We're going to be so happy! 】 Nine photos. My parents. Boyce. Wanda. Everyone clustered around her, grinning. They'd driven down to the coast before dawn to watch the sunrise—even brought the family dog. I was the only one they hadn't invited. I scrolled through every picture in silence, then put the phone down. On my way downstairs, I dropped the travel itinerary I'd spent half a month putting together straight into the trash. The four of them came back through the door, mid-laugh. The laughter stopped when they saw me. My father cleared his throat, fumbling. "Wanda got a sudden urge to see the sunrise. We didn't want to wake you, so we just let you sleep." My mother instantly produced a Polaroid. "See, we even saved you a spot. We can Photoshop you in later and print a new one." Later. Again. Next time. Again. They watched me, almost wary, as if bracing for me to be jealous of Wanda. I just nodded. "It's fine. I don't really like hiking anyway." The relief on their faces was visible. They walked right past me and up the stairs. No one asked where I was going. No one asked whether I'd eaten. I stood there for a long time. Then I sat down to a tasteless breakfast, alone. On my way back to my room, I passed my parents' suite. The door hadn't quite latched. From inside came the muffled sound of Wanda crying. "I didn't mean to take Edith's things…" "I was just scared. Scared of becoming the kid no one loved best." My mother, undone, hurried to comfort her. "How could you ever not be loved? From now on, you're the only child in this family who matters." My father chimed in. "We've never told anyone outside which of you was adopted. People have always assumed it was Edith—from now on we'll just let them go on thinking it." Wanda's tears turned to laughter in a heartbeat. "Really? I knew you loved me most." I stood outside the door and listened to all of it. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing. The relatives had already started passing the news around the family chat. 【So Edith wasn't actually theirs?】 【That explains why she never looked like the rest of them.】 【Wanda was always the more lovable one anyway.】 I read through the messages, and something in me turned almost amused. To make Wanda feel better, they were willing to sever blood ties with me by their own hand. What was the point, then, in staying? I turned, went back to my room, and opened my laptop. I formally accepted the offer from the hospital in Boston.
The confirmation email had barely left my outbox when there was another knock at the door. I opened it to find Wanda leaning against the frame, smiling with practiced innocence. "Edith, since you've thrown out your travel plans anyway, why don't you come with us today to finalize the engagement details? Everyone's already talked it over." I glanced down at my phone. The notification screen was empty. No one had so much as mentioned it to me. The next second, Wanda had already hooked her arm through mine, with all the easy expertise of someone who had done it a thousand times before—dragging me, the way she had since childhood, into a world that belonged to her. "Come on. I heard you had a boyfriend of seven years too, didn't you? Weren't you about to get engaged? You can help me out, give me some pointers." She batted her lashes, her smile sweet and disarming. But I knew her too well. Maybe because she was the adopted one, she had grown up needing to take things from me—proof of her own importance, a way to shore up her sense of safety. Toys when we were small. Friends when we were older. And then— The man I had loved for seven years. Once upon a time I would have fought her tooth and nail. Now I was just tired. "We broke up," I said flatly. A brief silence. The next second, her eyes welled up. "I'm sorry…" "Did I just bring up something painful?" She bit her lip, head bowed, looking heartbroken—as if she were the one who'd been hurt. My mother happened to be passing by and immediately gathered her into her arms. "There, there. Edith won't be upset with you." Then, with an arm around Wanda's shoulders, she steered her gently away. As she went, she turned and gave me a long, weighted look. A few seconds later, my phone buzzed. A message from my mother. 【We know Boyce used to be your boyfriend.】 【But Wanda really likes him.】 【Be the bigger sister. Mom will introduce you to someone better later.】 I stared at the message for a few seconds. It struck me as almost funny. My parents probably still didn't realize—Boyce had been the one to choose Wanda. I didn't reply. I simply put my phone away. Just before we left, Wanda suddenly draped her arms around Boyce's neck. "Don't forget to introduce Edith to your best friend. Not you—the next best one. I mean, I'm about to be engaged to you, and Edith's still all alone. It breaks my heart." Boyce was quiet for a beat. Then, low: "Okay." And he actually did push three contacts to me. 【They're all good men.】 【The kind of normal relationship you've been wanting—they can give it to you.】 I looked at the messages for a few seconds, then replied: 【Thank you.】 He visibly froze. His fingers started working against each other again. The unraveling had begun. In the old days, the moment he showed signs like that, I would have stepped in to calm him. This time I just looked away as if I hadn't noticed. My phone rang again. A message from my father, with a pin attached. 【The Grand Windsor Hotel.】 I stared at the name, my fingers stilling. Because in the original plan— that was where Boyce had been going to propose to me. A month ago, he had held me close in the middle of the night and asked, in all seriousness: "Edith, do you prefer white roses, or irises?" Back then, I'd really believed we had a future. … Half an hour later, the car pulled up at the hotel. A massive engagement banner had already been mounted out front. The photograph was one Boyce and I had taken together in New York. Only now, my face had been swapped out for Wanda's. Inside the ballroom, white irises cascaded from above, swaying gently. Beneath each bouquet hung a love letter—one of the letters Boyce had written to me over the last seven years. Every signature, every name, had been changed. Wanda stood in the middle of it all, in a white gown, beaming, radiant. "Edith! Come look—isn't it gorgeous? Boyce had been planning it in secret for the longest time. Even I didn't find out till today. Honestly, with his social anxiety being what it is, how does he manage to be so romantic when it comes to love?" She complained out loud, but the smug pride in her eyes was impossible to hide. I looked quietly at Boyce. I said nothing. Because I knew— the dress on Wanda didn't actually fit. He had cut it himself, to my measurements. The atmosphere stiffened. My mother stepped in to smooth things over. "Wanda, sweetheart, I invited a lot of your friends. Go say hello." Wanda threw herself into her arms, even pressed a kiss to her cheek. That kind of affection had never, ever been given to me. When I was little, I had tried to hug my mother. But she had nearly died giving birth to me, and somewhere in her, a quiet resentment had always lived. Whenever I leaned in for closeness, she would instinctively push me away. So eventually, I stopped trying. This time, too, I simply lowered my head and reopened the flight-booking app. My mother spotted it, and her expression shifted. "Edith." "Why are you looking at plane tickets?"
I instinctively darkened the screen. "Nothing." But my mother's brow furrowed, displeasure already creeping into her voice. "Are you sulking again? Trying to leave early?" "Today is the most important day of Wanda's life. Could you please stop ruining things?" I paused for a second, then grabbed at the first excuse I could find. "There are always too many people traveling back at the end of the holidays. I was just checking flights to Boston for the whole family." That softened her. She even smiled. "What's the rush? If Wanda wants to stay a few more days, she can just quit her job. It's exhausting work, and it's not as if we can't afford to support her." Then, as if remembering something, she gave me a little nudge. "Don't just stand there. Go take Wanda a glass of juice. Can't you see she's chatting with her friends?" I followed her gaze. In that little crowd were the friend who had once been closest to me, an upperclassman from medical school, and classmates who had pulled countless all-nighters with me in the lab. Somewhere along the way, every one of them had drifted over to Wanda's side. And I had become the one who didn't belong. Under my mother's continued prodding, I picked up a glass of juice and walked over. The way I had for so many years—playing Wanda's shadow. But before I could even get close, Wanda let out a sharp cry. She lurched sideways straight into the arms of the man next to her, and the juice in my hand went flying. The glass shattered across the floor. The juice splashed all down the front of me. Her eyes welled up instantly. "Edith… why would you throw the juice on me?" "Are you still angry with me? Please don't be angry, okay?" "What did I do wrong?" Her voice trembled, as if she'd suffered some unspeakable wrong. The faces around her changed in a heartbeat. The friend who had once been my closest let out a cold laugh. "You haven't changed a bit. You're only happy when you've ruined Wanda's mood, aren't you?" Someone else simply shoved me back. "Could you stay away from her? You've been bullying her your whole life." The upperclassman bent down to retrieve Wanda's shoe. When he straightened up, the look he gave me was distant, cold. "Edith, even if you're jealous of Wanda, this isn't the way to treat her." I stood there, soaked and disheveled, my chest aching so much it had gone numb—and I didn't even have the will to defend myself. I just said, evenly: "Wanda, you knocked the juice over yourself. You know it." The air went still. For a flicker of a second, the wounded look on her face froze. Her lips parted, as if she were about to say something. But before she could, my father had already come striding over, his expression dark. "Edith." The weight in his voice. Just like every other time—he took Wanda's side without asking a single question. "Wanda has always been insecure. You're her older sister. You need to make more allowances for her." He pulled a bank card out of his wallet and held it out to me. "Go clear your head somewhere. You don't need to be at the engagement party tonight. We don't need any more upset." I looked at the card, and a strange laugh almost escaped me. So in their eyes, my very presence was the problem. Fine. I hadn't wanted to stay anyway. So I nodded, obedient. "Don't worry. I won't do anything to interfere with their engagement." Hearing that, my father visibly relaxed. As though a nuisance had finally been dealt with. I tucked the card away, reopened the booking app, and bought a one-way ticket to Boston. This time, I really was leaving. --- On the final day of the holiday, I packed early. I had just snapped the suitcase shut when there was another knock at the door. Wanda poked her head in, beaming. "Edith! Today's the last stop of our trip—Cape Destiny! They say that if couples and families go there to make a wish together, they'll be happy forever. Come with me and Boyce?" I was about to refuse when Boyce, standing behind her, spoke up. "Come along. You missed the engagement party yesterday. Wanda's been upset about it for hours. Don't make her keep feeling guilty." His eyes, as he spoke, were fixed on something behind me. In the next second, his expression changed. He had seen the suitcase on the floor. The air froze. He stared at the case, his voice dropping low and quiet. "Edith. The trip isn't over yet. Where are you going?"
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