When I was adopted at ten, I gained a sister—Ava—who leaned in that first night and whispered, “You ruined my life. I’ll ruin yours.” I thought she was bluffing. But for eight years, she chipped away at me—cut up my school projects, lied to our parents, turned kindness into ammunition.
To them, Ava was the emotional one, always on the verge of tears. I became the quiet kid, invisible in plain sight. I stopped defending myself and started building a future. When I got into my dream college, Ava sneered, “Charity case.” But I smiled—I knew how hard I’d fought to get there.
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