The True Heiress, No Heiress At All

I was heading to the bakery to buy my own birthday cake when I spotted her, the girl they raised as their own, selling cakes by the roadside.

Sienna, the one who'd been cast out years ago for orchestrating a car accident to prevent me from reclaiming my life.

Buy a cake, please. It'll help me afford dinner.

I carried the rather ugly cake home, only for Mom and Dad and my brother to recognize it instantly as Sienna's creation.

"You bought Sienna's cake? Is she doing alright now?"

"Not really."

Hearing my answer, the three of them immediately grabbed car keys and rushed out.

"If you hadn't suddenly decided to come back, Sienna wouldn't have lost control and made that mistake. She deserves a chance to atone."

I lit my birthday candle, blew it out, and made a wish.

"Happy Birthday, Nora. May your trauma therapy go smoothly this year."

The candle went out.

The room plunged into dimness. I fumbled my way through, relying on memory, but accidentally knocked my knee against the corner of the table.

Fortunately, ever since the day I returned, Mom and Dad and Adam had carefully padded every sharp corner with thick tape, afraid I might get hurt.

Id come home covered in scars, the abuse and the car accident leaving permanent marks on my body.

The light flickered on.

I saw the crisscrossing scars on my wrists, left from my previous home.

The cake was hideous, with "Happy Birthday" scrawled haphazardly across it.

It tasted terrible.

Sienna wasn't a baker; her customers were few. If her plea hadn't stopped me, she likely wouldn't have had a single sale today.

I took a deep breath, then tossed the cake into the trash.

This year, I turned eighteen.

I'd been undergoing trauma therapy for five years.

Mom and Dad and Adam didn't know.

I was found when I was thirteen. Half-dead, I reached for a shard of a beer bottle, intending to swallow it.

I didn't want to live anymore.

Ever since my foster parents picked me up, if I didn't beg for at least three hundred dollars a day, I'd be brutally beaten. They wanted me to look pathetic the next day so people would give me more money.

"Two hundred and sixty-nine dollars."

My foster mother's hands were still wet with saliva as she counted the coins, one by one.

Hearing that number, my face went pale with terror, and I cowered in the corner.

"I tried my best no one gives much money now. They say I'm up to no good."

I stammered, still remembering the words theyd said during the day.

"Kids this age should be in school, shouldn't they? Probably wants money for a gaming cafe or something."

"These days, kids are so rebellious. She probably just wants pocket money."

No one gave me money.

Truly, no one.

"Then you're not pathetic enough. You can't make people pity you."

My foster father stood up, and the ash from his cigarette fell onto my neck. I flinched from the burn.

But dared not move.

"I I'll get more money tomorrow, please don't hit me"

I knelt, bowing my head repeatedly until it bled.

My foster father scoffed, chugging the last half of the beer. Then he brought the bottle crashing down on my head.

The world spun, and familiar pain spread across my forehead.

I touched it; it was slick with blood.

The beer bottle shattered.

My foster parents cursed.

"If we don't make a few more cuts, how will she get more money? She's asking for it."

"Picking her up was just a way to make money. Otherwise, she'd be dead already!"

The stench of stale beer mingled with blood, filling the entire room.

I made the bravest decision I could think of at that moment.

I picked up a shard of the broken bottle, intending to swallow it. "What are you doing!"

The door was kicked open.

I saw police officers, and four elegantly dressed people standing at the entrance. All of them, except for the girl, looked at me with heartbreaking concern.

"My daughter! My poor daughter!"

The woman rushed forward, embracing me. My blood stained her beautiful clothes. I felt her entire body tremble.

"Mommy came too late, darling. Mommy came too late, that's why you suffered so much. How much pain have you endured"

Adam punched my foster father, knocking out a tooth.

"How dare you bully my sister! Is my sister, Nora Song, someone to be messed with? How many lives do you have to pay?"

Adam's eyes were bloodshot.

Dad spoke to the police, his voice firm.

"Make sure they pay for this. She is a Song, my daughter."

I snapped back to reality.

Staring blankly at the cake in the trash.

Perhaps after five years, their guilt had long faded.

Mom, Dad, and Adam still brought Sienna back.

They looked at Sienna with tender pity, just as they had once looked at me.

"You've truly suffered, Sienna. You should have contacted us sooner."

Mom cried, her heart aching.

"You were my sister for over a decade. How could I abandon you?"

Adam's face was serious.

"I won't let anyone who bullied you get away with it."

Dad led them through the door, speaking with conviction.

Then, all three noticed me sitting at the dining table.

They froze.

I smiled.

"You're back."

Their faces changed instantly.

They stared at me as if I were a wild beast, frozen, not daring to step forward.

"Nora, I'm home."

Sienna took a step closer first, spotting the cake in the trash.

She didn't seem angry; she just smiled.

"Did you like the cake?"

Mom, Dad, and Adam also saw it, their voices tinged with reproach.

"Sienna made that cake for you, how could you just throw it away? Are you still holding a grudge over what happened five years ago? Didn't we move past that already? Why do you keep dwelling on it?"

Mom murmured, confused by my actions.

"It was terrible."

I stated plainly, my expression blank, wanting to leave.

"Even if it tasted bad, you should have eaten it. It was Sienna's gesture."

Mom sighed, and they all looked at me with disappointment.

As if I was the unreasonable one.

But I'd paid for that cake; it wasn't a gesture from her.

I didn't say anything, just stood up and went to my room.

I heard them talking about me behind my back, comforting Sienna.

"Don't mind Nora. She might still be upset, but her feelings don't matter. Sienna has to come home; she can't suffer anymore."

"How can she still hold a grudge after all these years? Besides, Sienna was punished too; it's even."

"Sienna, go take a hot shower. Tomorrow we'll take you shopping for clothes."

Their voices were filled with excitement.

I quietly walked to my bed.

And pulled up the leg of my pants.

It was my prosthetic leg.

That car accident had condemned me to prosthetics for life.

They didn't know.

Because that day at the hospital, they personally saw Sienna off.

No one came to see me.

So they never knew that my leg was artificial.

The next day, I went for my trauma therapy.

"You still have severe trauma responses to the car accident and your childhood," the doctor told me, frowning.

"Are Mr. and Mrs. Song not treating you well?"

I opened my eyes, my body drenched in sweat, my face still bloodless.

Those past events clung to me like ghosts.

"They are," I replied.

But it was only "better" than my foster parents. I didn't know what "truly good" felt like, but they provided me with food and warm clothes.

"You still need extensive therapy. It's crucial to avoid cars as much as possible and try not to dwell on those negative memories, otherwise, you'll continue to experience trauma responses."

The doctor sighed.

"Should I inform Mr. and Mrs. Song? They still don't know you're undergoing therapy. Perhaps if they knew, they could offer more protection."

"No need."

I put on my jacket.

"I don't want them to feel guilty because of this."

Especially now that they'd welcomed Sienna back.

I stepped outside.

"Why did you hurt Nora? She's suffered enough already, and you still try to bully her."

Mom shoved Sienna to the ground.

"Send her away. Otherwise, I'm afraid she'll hurt Nora again."

Dad's face was etched with disappointment, unmoved by Sienna's pleas.

Adam held my hand, comforting me repeatedly.

"Nora, it was my fault that you got lost back then. Don't worry, I won't let anyone bully you ever again."

But five years. In five years, they'd brought Sienna back and accused me of holding grudges.

As I was lost in thought, a car sped past me, too close, too fast. Instantly, I broke into a cold sweat, collapsing to the ground.

Because of my aversion to cars, I always walked everywhere, and even the sound of a vehicle made me tremble.

This road was usually deserted; cars rarely passed.

"Hahaha, look how scared you are! You're the Song family heiress now, but you're still such a coward."

Sienna stepped out of the car, dressed in a leather jacket. She took off her sunglasses and looked at me, utterly devoid of the fear and pity she'd shown yesterday.

"You know why, so why pretend?"

I struggled to my feet, my prosthetic leg chafing painfully against my thigh.

Sienna scoffed.

"So what? You probably don't know, do you? When they kicked me out, they actually slipped me a ten-million-dollar card. They were afraid I'd suffer, saying if I didn't live well, they'd take me back."

My face instantly turned ashen, my nails digging into my palms.

"What did you say?"

The punishment I thought she received was merely a show for me.