6
Chloe sighed in relief as the online outrage
subsided.
She had cultivated a “rich girl” persona on
social media, and the comments on her
accounts had been brutal.
Now that the “misunderstanding” was cleared
up, she was eager to get back to normal.
My return hadn’t been publicly announced.
Because of Chloe’s “depression,” my parents
didn’t want anyone knowing she wasn’t their
biological daughter.
But Chloe’s actions inadvertently pushed me
く
She started livestreaming, “accidentally”
showing her “antidepressants,” and casually
mentioning her “psycho” sister.
She implied I was the cause of her
depression, and the internet ate it up,
showering her with sympathy.
Dad also started publicly downplaying my
status. “Just a foster kid. We took her in out
of pity because she’s mentally ill.”
I didn’t care. They wouldn’t dare try anything
in front of me.
After Buddy’s death, I stopped trying to
control myself. I trashed the house when I
was upset, lit small fires, and threw steak
knives like darts.
Г
They finally acknowledged my illness, realizing
a “psycho” was capable of anything.
Dad tried repeatedly to have me committed,
but the hospital refused.
They had their reasons. My evaluations were
normal. I didn’t meet the criteria for
involuntary commitment.
For patients like me, hospitalization required
consent.
Mom screamed that I was having episodes
constantly, that I was beyond help.
But when the doctors asked if I had hurt
anyone, besides the initial incident with
Chloe, I had been remarkably restrained.
<
After a while, I grew tired of it all and told
them if they tried anything again, I would take
them down with me.
As the tension in the house escalated, Dad
suddenly announced a party, declaring Chloe
his heir.
“I’m giving Chloe 20% of the company
shares. She’ll inherit everything. You’re sick.
The ten million I gave you is enough.”
He eyed me warily as he spoke, as if
expecting another outburst.
But I was delighted. This was the perfect
opportunity.
