Ch. My sister’s punishment, my billionaire prize 2 My sister’s punishment, my billionaire prize 2

My mother latched onto this idea desperately. 

And so, Amber Sullivan officially became the Parker family’s adopted daughter. 

My mother treated Amber like a priceless treasure-spoiling her, indulging her every whim, acting like she might break if someone looked at her wrong. 

Amber successfully “healed” my mother’s fragile mental state but also systematically stole all the love and attention that once belonged to me. 

Originally, I accepted this. As long as my mother recovered, that was what mattered most. 

But one day after school when I was ten, Amber suddenly disappeared. 

The family sent out search parties. My mother was hysterical. Around eight that evening, Amber 

finally returned home, limping dramatically with tear-stained cheeks. 

The moment she crossed the threshold, she threw herself into my mother’s arms, sobbing: “Did I do something wrong, Mommy?” 

“Why did Violet leave me all alone in the woods behind the school?” 

“I was so scared! I thought no one would find me!” 

That was when I realized those malicious, calculating looks Amber had been giving me weren’t my imagination after all. 

Before I could defend myself, my mother slapped me so hard that my head snapped sideways, my ear slamming into the corner of the marble countertop. 

Blood immediately gushed down my neck while my father shouted abuse at me. My mother simply cradled Amber, not even checking if I was seriously hurt. 

It was Maria, one of the housekeepers, who took pity on me and drove me to Mass General Hospital, but we missed the critical treatment window. My right ear lost its hearing permanently. 

My father sent me to live with distant relatives in rural Vermont the very next day. 

Before I left, only Ethan held my hand: “Don’t worry, Vi. In a few months, I’ll convince Mom and Dad to bring you home.” 

At first, Ethan did call me every week. 

But eventually, the calls came once a month, then once every six months. Our conversations mostly revolved around Amber: 

“Amber just won first place in her art show at Phillips Academy!” 

“If only you were as gifted as Amber.” 

“Amber says she’s forgiven you, but I think you still need to work on yourself.” 

wenty. 

And so, I was exiled in Vermont for ten years, until I was finally summoned back to Boston at twenty. I believed my parents must still love me somewhere deep down. 

For that desperate hope of family connection, I kept my head down, trying different ways to please 

hem, cooking their favorite foods, doing whatever they asked, hoping for the smallest scraps of fection in return. 

Bu only now did I finally understand-no matter how hard I tried, people who didn’t love me would 

never love me. 

And if that was the case, I was done with all of them.