I remembered once, during a school event, I played a piano piece on stage, and everyone clapped for me. Even Marlon said I played well. Yet Diane only shrugged and said, "Don't get too cocky. You should learn from Marlon."

Since our school was far from home, Marlon and I both boarded there. He was two years older and had a heavier course load.

Every weekend, I waited for him to come home.

But Diane never asked me what I wanted to eat when we got back. She always prepared a feast of Marlon's favorites, regardless of what I liked.

Once I hit middle school, I took it upon myself to help out with the cleaning every weekend.

I wanted to save money on tutoring, so I studied hard, chasing after teachers for help until the sun went down, often forgetting to head back to my dorm.

There was one time I studied too late and missed the curfew. I ended up sleeping in the classroom all night, too scared to wake the teacher.

But the dorm supervisor called Diane, reporting that I, a mere child, had stayed out all night. Without even asking for my side of the story, Diane stormed into the school, berating me in front of my classmates and teachers. "What kind of girl runs around outside at night? Have you no shame? You're a student; your focus should be on your studies!"

I didn't argue because I knew she wouldn't believe me. Eventually, a teacher stepped in to explain that I'd been studying late, which was why I missed curfew.

Diane softened her tone slightly, "Well, that's just because she's not too bright! The early bird catches the worm, and Marlon wouldn't have made such a rookie mistake!"

Even when I worked hard, I faced scorn. It seemed that no matter how much I tried, there was always a reason to criticize.

Diane's favoritism was blatant, seeping into every corner of our lives.

I once witnessed a scene that stuck with me: Vincent's friend sent a few boxes of big, fresh watermelons from out of town during the winter.

Fresh fruit in winter was a rarity, especially watermelons.

Marlon and I couldn't help but drool over them.

But Diane declared, "Only those who score a hundred on their finals get to eat these."

I figured Diane thought Marlon would easily score a perfect hundred while I was always too careless to manage it.

But this time, she was wrong. Marlon scored a ninety-eight, while I miraculously got a hundred.