I didn’t work for a prestigious corporation. I didn’t have a shiny title. I didn’t live up to this family’s standards.
I smirked, but before I could respond, she let out a soft chuckle, patting my shoulder lightly.
“But anyway, I suppose it’s nice that you’re here.”
Then, lowering her voice just enough for only me to hear, she added, “Especially since someone prepared a little gift for you.”
“A gift?”
I frowned, then followed her gaze toward the reception desk.
And then it clicked.
The gift was that damn name tag.
Rage surged through me like a storm. But instead of letting it consume me, I felt something else.
A strange, chilling calm.
I am not that 14-year-old girl anymore.
I am no longer the weak girl who had to endure their cruel jokes.
I set my glass down on the table and took a deep breath.
If they wanted to play with me, I would show them that I was no longer the Lucy they could mock.
I stood in the middle of the party, the laughter and chatter around me nothing more than a cheap background track.
Memories crashed over me like a storm, dragging me back to a time when I was still a naive child who believed my father’s love was unconditional.
Back then, I was his whole world.
I remember the way he used to hold my hand tightly when crossing the street. The afternoons he taught me how to throw a baseball in the backyard. And the nights I curled up in his arms during thunderstorms.
I used to think that love would never change.
Then Karen came along.
My father remarried when I was 10, and everything changed so fast that I didn’t even realize I was being pushed to the sidelines of his life.
At first, I tried to adapt.
I smiled when my father introduced me to Karen as “the sweetest little girl you’ll ever meet,” though his tone made it sound like I was just a child who needed to fit in rather than a real part of the family.
Karen, with her perfectly styled blonde hair and syrupy-sweet smile, hugged me tightly the first time we met and said, “We’re going to be such a happy family, Lucy. We’re going to love each other like real family.”
But we never truly existed as one.
Karen only loved her two children, Olivia and Hunter.
I was just an obstacle.
Within a year of their marriage, my father was no longer my father.
At first, the changes were subtle.
He started missing my parent-teacher conferences, but never forgot to attend Olivia’s dance recital. He was too busy to take me to the park as promised, but he always made time for Hunter’s baseball games.
I still remember a Friday afternoon when I was 11.
I stood outside school for nearly an hour waiting for him to pick me up, but he never came.
I walked home, tears streaming down my face, only to find him in the living room laughing with Karen and her kids.
“Did you forget about me?” I asked, my voice shaking from running and crying.
He just sighed, not even looking me in the eye.
“Lucy, I was busy. You’re old enough to understand, aren’t you?”
Understand?
So Olivia and Hunter didn’t have to understand.
But I said nothing because I knew that, in this house, my voice didn’t m completely become a shadow.
Olivia and Hunter were treated like a princess and a prince.
And me?
I was the one who did everything.
“Lucy, watch Olivia for me.”
“Lucia, wash the dishes.”