They Gave My Family a Bad Ending, I'll Rewrite It
My sister, Veronica, is the villainess.
My brother, Roderick, is the unhinged antagonist.
And I’m the seemingly innocent little sister they raised, the one they pulled from the wreckage of our parents’ lives.
We are characters trapped in the ink and paper of a novel.
And I’m the only one who knows how it ends.
Badly.
My job is to derail the plot.
§01
From the moment I could form a coherent thought, I knew.
I knew I was living inside a tragic romance, a world that revolved around a destined hero and heroine.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t one of them.
I was born on the wrong side of the narrative.
Before I was six months old, my parents were dead.
I was raised by my older siblings, cradled in their arms, shielded by their shadows.
It wasn’t until my tenth birthday, when I truly began to understand the words I was reading, that the full picture snapped into focus.
The beautiful, fiery woman who lost her temper trying to teach me long division—my sister, Veronica—was the story’s primary villainess, the scheming rival.
And the man who indulged my every whim, who looked at me as if I were the only light in his world—my brother, Roderick—was the final boss.
The story’s unhinged, all-powerful antagonist.
§02
The hero and heroine are the center of this universe.
Anyone who opposes them is destined for a grim fate.
On my tenth birthday, they sat on either side of me.
Veronica, impossibly lovely, holding the cake.
Roderick, devastatingly handsome, lighting the candles.
In their eyes, I saw only my own reflection.
No matter how cruel or vicious they were to the outside world, to me, they were everything.
They were the only two people on earth who loved me without condition.
I refused to let them meet their pre-written, tragic end.
I would save them.
I had to.
§03
But I wasn’t blessed with their gifts.
It was as if our parents had bequeathed all their brilliance to my siblings, leaving none for me.
Roderick, while still a teenager, had built a business empire from nothing, solving our family’s financial ruin and providing us with a life of unimaginable luxury.
He moved through the world with a chilling, predatory grace.
Veronica was a master of social warfare.
Her beauty was a weapon, and she wielded it with surgical precision, gathering a clique of devoted followers who would do anything for her.
But their genius was also their fatal flaw.
Roderick became obsessed with the heroine, a woman who would never be his.
And Veronica fell for the hero, a man who would never love her back.
§04
I sighed, my cheek pressed against the cool leather of my sister’s sports car.
Veronica took one hand off the wheel to mess up my hair.
“What is it now? Did your math homework spontaneously combust again?”
I turned to face her, my expression serious. “He’s not as handsome as Roderick, and he’s definitely not as rich as you. What do you even see in Elliot Marsden?”
Elliot Marsden.
The hero of our story.
A faint, dangerous spark lit up in my sister’s eyes at the mention of his name.
She pinched my cheek. “Worried about me, are we?”
She said, “Maybe you should worry about your own grades first.”
“The number of parent-counselor meetings I’ve had to attend for you this month is a new record. I’m getting more face-time with your guidance counselor than I do with my own therapist.”
§05
Before I could protest, she spun the wheel, the tires screaming against the pavement.
“I’m busy tonight. Can’t help you with your homework.”
She said, “I’m dropping you at Roderick’s office.”
I hugged my backpack tighter, my gaze falling to my lap.
I knew what she was busy with.
Her network of informants was vast. They’d known the heroine, Claire Meadows, was back in the country before she’d even unpacked.
The hero’s one true love had returned.
And tonight, my sister was going to a party to welcome her home.
With a show of force.
I let out another heavy sigh, leaning my head against the window.
The car executed a flawless one-eighty and screeched to a halt in front of the monolithic glass tower that housed the Donnelly Group.
§06
Veronica got out, opening my door. She saw me sitting there, frozen, and a rare, genuine smile touched her lips.
“Daydreaming again, Willow-Flower?” she murmured, scratching me under the chin like a cat.
She pulled me out of the car, slinging my backpack over my shoulders.
“Come on, I’ll take you up.” She put a hand on my back.
I hesitated, then shook my head. “I can find it.”
“You should go,” I said, looking up at the stunning red slip dress she wore.
She was a work of art, a goddess of vengeance in silk. How could Elliot Marsden not see it?
She was in a hurry. The sky was already bruising into twilight.
She smoothed the collar of my school uniform, her expression softening.
“Alright, I’m going. Go straight up to Roderick. Make him order you dinner.”
I nodded, standing on the curb as she got back in her car and sped away, looking back at me twice before she disappeared around the corner.
The second her taillights vanished, I used the high-end car service app on my phone.
I gave the driver the address of the Empyrean Hotel and a simple instruction.
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