At my birthday party, Mom and Dad finally revealed the gift they'd prepared for me—a DNA test results packet.

It stated, in no uncertain terms, that we weren't related.

Mom offered a cold, practiced smile. "Brina, since you aren't actually our biological daughter, you're going to have to pay us back for the cost of raising you these last seventeen years."

Dad scoffed, shaking his head. "No wonder you look nothing like me. You've been a leech on our family for years. Starting today, you're a servant in this house. I'll pay you 100 bucks a month to work off your debt—no food, no lodging included."

I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I just nodded calmly.

I wasn't surprised. I had overheard them the night before. Standing outside their bedroom door, I'd listened to my sister, Margery Curtis, holding Mom and Dad's hands and whining. "Mom, Dad, for my birthday wish... I want to be your only daughter. I want your undivided love. Just let Brina be the servant for a year, okay?"

Dad had looked at her with pure adoration. "Alright. Whatever you want."

Mom had chimed in, beaming. "For this year, we belong only to you, Maggie."

Leaning against the hallway wall, I felt my eyes sting.

They seemed to have conveniently forgotten that Margery and I were twins. It was my birthday, too.

Well, my birthday wish was to leave this family—not just for a year, but forever.

Back in the present, at the party, Margery covered her mouth in mock surprise. "Brina, no wonder you're so ugly. You don't look like Dad or Mom. Turns out you really are a fake."

Her voice was loud, theatrical, designed for an audience. She seemed to have forgotten that we looked nearly identical.

"Oh wait, you're not even my sister. You're just some stray that showed up out of nowhere."

Mom's expression remained distant, unbothered. "Brina, now that the truth is out and you aren't a Curtis, you have no right to be here. This party is for our darling Maggie alone."

I glanced up at Margery's smug face. She looked stunning in her custom gown, a sparkling tiara crowning her look like a queen of the night.

Then I looked down at my own faded shirt and jeans, the cuffs frayed from overuse.

I gave a bitter smile. I couldn't lose my place in this family because I never really had one.

Dad raised his voice to address the room. "Move into the servant's quarters immediately. For old times' sake, you can work here until you find your real parents. Like I said, I'll credit you 100 dollars a month against your debt. You pay for your own food."

The crowd whispered, their eyes darting between us.

Feeling humiliated under their stares, I bent down to grab my backpack.

Margery rushed over and yanked on the strap. The broken zipper, held together only by a safety pin, finally snapped open. My belongings spilled across the floor.

"Aha! I knew it!" Margery yelled. "You've been stealing from us."

Among the scattered textbooks lay a single pink sanitary pad.

Mom looked uncomfortable, shifting her weight. "Maggie, let it go. It's just a pad."

Margery wouldn't drop it. "Mom, I'm the only Curtis daughter now. Who is she? She's been a freeloader for years, and now she's stealing. If I say she doesn't deserve it, she doesn't."

Seeing her anger, Mom softened her tone immediately. "Okay, okay, don't get upset, darling. You're right. You're my only baby now. You can do whatever you want."

Satisfied, Margery stepped on the pad, grinding her heel into it. "There. I don't want it anymore. You can have it."

I stared at the dirty pad. My throat felt tight, heavy, making it hard to draw a breath.

Finally, I bent down and picked up only my books.

After the party winded down, Paola, our middle-aged housekeeper, led me to the utility room.

It was a tiny space, maybe 5 square meters, containing nothing but a shabby wooden cot and a window with rusty iron bars.

Paola stood in the doorway, hesitating. "Miss... Brina, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis know you're a good girl. Once they come around, you'll be the heiress of the family again..."

Before she could finish, two cockroaches scurried out of the corner.

I ignored her embarrassment. "Thanks, Paola. I know."

Paola shook her head and walked away, sighing.

I heard her mutter under her breath, "They look so much alike. How could they not be related?"

I sat on the rough wooden planks, staring blankly into the dark night.

It didn't matter. Just one more year, and I could leave forever.

That night, cramps wracked my stomach. Without a pad, I had to make do with folded tissues.

Leaving the bathroom, I heard my parents whispering. "Honey, do you think Brina will hate us for this? She is our biological daughter, after all."

Dad scoffed. "It's her own fault for always picking on Maggie. She never learned to give in to her sister. A little hardship is for her own good.

"In a year, when Maggie's had her fun, we'll just say the DNA test was a mistake. Once we reinstate her as a Curtis, she'll be too happy to care about the past."

My fingers went cold. It was absurd. Why did they think they could humiliate me so completely and I would still be there, waiting for them?

The next day, I went out to buy pads. But when I swiped my card, it was declined. The clerk told me there weren't enough funds, which didn't make sense—I knew I had saved 40 dollars on that card.

Back at the villa, I walked in to find the three of them laughing at the dining table. A gift bag sat in the center. Mom was stroking a silk scarf, looking delighted. "Our Maggie is so thoughtful. She even bought me a scarf. I'm just so happy."

Dad held the plastic tumbler in his hands, running his fingers over it, grinning ear to ear. "I love it, too. That's my precious daughter."

Margery rested her head on Mom's shoulder, pouting a little. "But those two things only cost 40 dollars. You guys won't be mad I bought such cheap gifts, will you?"

Mom shook her head immediately. "Of course not. Anything my baby gives me is a treasure, no matter how much it costs."

Dad chimed in to comfort her while taking a dig at me. "Exactly. Unlike Brina, who only knows how to spend this family's money. She's never bought us a gift. She's so ungrateful. She can't compare to you..."

They stopped talking the second they realized I was there.

Margery tilted her head, looking at me with pure malice.

That forty dollars was the allowance I'd saved over two months. It was all the money I had.

A cold chill swept over me. My mind went blank. Before I could process it, I grabbed Margery and raised my hand.

But before the slap could land, Dad kicked me away. My spine slammed into the sharp corner of the table, and the pain blacked out my vision for a second.

Margery held up her arm—which only had a tiny red mark—and started crying hysterically. "Mom, Dad, it hurts so bad! Is my arm broken?"

"Call an ambulance!" Mom screamed.

"There's no time for that," Dad said. "I'll drive Maggie to the hospital."

Margery pointed at me, still lying on the floor. "I don't want to ride in the car. That bastard hurt me, so I want her to carry me to the hospital."

The nearest hospital was 20 kilometers away.

Mom looked at me coldly. "You ungrateful stray. We fed you and housed you for over ten years, and you dare hurt my biological daughter? Do what Maggie says."

When I didn't get up fast enough, Dad yanked me to my feet. "Stop faking it. It was just a little bump. Carry Maggie to the hospital right now. If you delay my daughter getting treated, I'll kick you out of the house."

I believed him. And I couldn't leave the family yet.

So I picked Margery up and stumbled toward the hospital on foot.

Dad drove slowly behind me. "Sabrina, carry her properly," he yelled. "If you drop my precious daughter, I'll make you regret it."

Mom complained, "Walk faster. What, have you not eaten? Don't delay my baby's treatment."

Margery whispered in my ear, gloating, "See? No one in this family loves you. You're just an unwanted stray."

Words like that used to hurt. But now, after so much pain, I was numb.

Seeing no reaction, Margery went quiet.

But as we neared the hospital, she pulled a safety pin from her pocket and jammed it into my back.

I stumbled from the sharp pain and fell flat on the ground.

My parents stopped the car immediately, ran over, scooped up Margery—who was crushing me—and rushed her toward the hospital.

Mom glanced back at me, seeing my pale face, and said impatiently, "We're at the hospital. Go see a doctor yourself. We don't have time for you."

I didn't go in. I had no money.

I didn't have the energy to walk back. I sat on the hospital steps until dark, then finally returned to the villa.

They were already home. Standing in the living room was a sloppy, cowering middle-aged couple.

"Just in time," Dad said, pointing at them. "These are your biological parents. Go with them now."

The air went dead silent.

Mom walked over and took my hand, though she wouldn't look me in the eye. "Brina, I've always treated you like my own daughter. I'm really sad about this too. But since your real parents are here, you have no reason to stay with us anymore."

I thought I wouldn't cry. But tears started streaming down my face.

These were the parents I had loved for over a decade. They wouldn't even let me stay in a corner of the house.

Mom looked guilty seeing my tears. She reached out to wipe them, but Margery hooked her arm through Mom's.

"Brina, congratulations. You're not a parentless bastard anymore."

The middle-aged woman grabbed my hand, her dirty fingernails digging into my skin, and wailed theatrically, "You're my daughter! I finally found you. Come home with us."

The man claiming to be my father dragged me toward the door. "Yes, yes, let's go. We've troubled Mr. and Mrs. Curtis enough. Have some shame."

"Wait," Margery said, her eyes gleaming. "Brina, finding your real parents is a big deal. You should get on your knees and bow to them. Or do you look down on them because they're poor?"

I froze. I turned to Mom and Dad. "Do you also think I should kneel and bow?"

They looked away. Margery kept pushing. "Hurry up and kneel. We're all watching."

I smiled. Something inside me shattered completely.

I knelt down, but I bowed my head heavily toward Mom and Dad. "From now on, you are no longer my parents. I'm no longer part of the Curtis family."

My parents exchanged an uneasy look. But I was already standing up and leaving with my "biological parents."

Mom chased after me, shouting to cover her guilt, "We aren't even! Not unless... not unless you pay back every cent we spent on you over the last ten years."

I stopped walking but didn't turn around. "Okay," I said softly.

They thought they had spent a fortune on me over the years, but they always conveniently forgot that Margery was the favorite.

She was the one they bankrolled like a princess.

Meanwhile, I survived on 60 dollars a month. And even then, Margery shook me down.

She had 6 thousand at her disposal, but if I refused to hand over my scrap of cash, she'd run home in tears, claiming I was turning our classmates against her and that I was the bully.

I lost count of the times I was locked inside or denied food. Once, on a night when the rain was coming down in sheets, Margery told them I was driving her to suicide.

Because of that lie, I was forced to stand out in the storm all night until I spiked a fever of 40 degrees Celsius.

Nobody cared. That was just how things were.

One sentence from Margery decided whether I was right or wrong. It controlled my happiness, my life, my dignity.

My defenses, my tears, my grievances—they held no currency in that house.

Just like me. Cheap.

That night, I moved into the rental apartment my "biological parents" occupied in the slums.

There were no spare rooms or blankets, so I curled up in the only bathroom.

The wind cut through the broken windows, which were plastered over with newspaper, and by the next day, the fever had me dizzy and disoriented.

Drifting in and out, I heard a woman's anxious voice on the phone. "Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, Ms. Sabrina has a high fever. It's 40 degrees Celsius."

"What are you waiting for?" came the reply. "Get her to a hospital immediately."

The phone was on speaker. Margery's voice cut through the static, crystal clear. "Mom, Dad, Brina only left last night. How could she have a fever today? That's way too convenient. She's faking it to test you. If you believe her, you're falling for the trick."

There was a long silence before Dad's cold voice returned. "Ignore her. She said herself she wanted nothing to do with us. Let the ungrateful girl learn her lesson."

Mom sounded impatient. "Bertha, she's your daughter now. Don't call us unless it's urgent. We're busy traveling the world with our darling Maggie. Gotta go now."

No one came for me. I was left to rot in that rental unit. I managed to claw the door open and drag myself into the hallway before I blacked out.

When I opened my eyes, a nurse was standing by the bed.

"You're finally awake," she said. "You were running a fever of nearly 42 degrees Celsius. If a kind stranger hadn't brought you in, you would've been critical within ten minutes.

"Go ahead and contact your family to come handle the bill."

I stayed silent for a moment before whispering, "I don't have any money. And I don't have any family."

The nurse froze.

I stared at the IV line taped to my hand and licked my dry lips. "But I have blood."

By the time school started, I was entering my senior year.

I ran errands for classmates—fetching lunch, delivering packages—earning a little each time. I could scrape together enough for the day.

One afternoon, I'd just bought lunch and was leaving the cafeteria when I ran into Margery. She just crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. On cue, her friends grabbed my lunchbox and smashed it, scattering food and mud everywhere.

"Brina, you look so pathetic," Margery said. "Let me treat you to this meal."

They held my head down and forced me to eat the food they'd just stepped on. My homeroom teacher, Denisse Harris, happened to walk by and shut it down immediately.

She pulled me up and helped clean off my face. She'd heard rumors about the birthday party and knew I was strapped for cash, but she didn't pry. Instead, she set me up with a tutoring job. The only condition was that I worked half-days on weekends so my grades wouldn't slip.

I thanked her over and over.

I never expected that her kindness would get her fired. Someone reported her for accepting bribes from parents. At the same time, my picture went up on the school bulletin board.

It was a shot of a student's parent picking me up, but the caption labeled me a "kept woman."

My "biological mother," Bertha, stormed the school and slapped me twice without a word.

She grabbed a handful of my hair, pinching and twisting the skin viciously. "You little slut. You're barely grown, and you're already trying to seduce men? You might have no shame, but I do."

The force of the slap turned my head. In my peripheral vision, I saw the Curtises standing with the school administrators, looking at me like I was trash.

Behind them stood Margery, wearing a wide smile.

My hair fell forward, curtaining my face and hiding the tears I couldn't hold back.

I lowered my head and kept my voice calm. "I'm sorry. I know I was wrong."

That night, right after I showered, a pair of large hands dragged me into my room.

My "biological father," Costello, was shirtless, his eyes bloodshot as he lunged at me.

"If you're going to sleep with men anyway, you might as well sleep with me."

I slashed the box cutter hidden in my sleeve across his face.

He stumbled back two steps, panting heavily.

"I'm still a student," I said. "If you don't want to go to prison, don't touch me. Get out!"

Living in the slums, I knew better than to be unprepared.

Costello spat on the floor and wiped the blood from his cheek. He bared his yellow teeth in a grin. "Just you wait. Your parents sold you to me. I'll get what I want eventually."

When the door closed, I slid to the floor, my whole body trembling.

Tears streamed down my face. I bit down hard on the back of my hand to keep from making a sound.

My phone pinged. A message popped up in the family group chat.

It was Mom, "Sabrina, you're degrading yourself at such a young age. To think I spent over a decade as a mother to someone so dirty and lacking in self-respect—it makes me sick."

A second later, Dad removed me from the group.

Mom stared at the chat list, now reduced to three people. An uneasy feeling rose in her chest. "Honey, did we go too far? Didn't we verify that Brina was only tutoring?"

Dad replied, voice tight with anger, "If she hadn't forced Maggie to eat food off the ground, Maggie wouldn't have cried until her eyes were swollen. Maggie only asked for her to be kicked out of the chat. That's letting her off easy."

He thought for a moment, then his tone softened. "It's only for a year, anyway. I transferred enough money to Costello to ensure Brina won't be mistreated. When the time is up, we'll go pick her up immediately."