The Forgotten Twin My Parents Sold Everything for Her, Not Me

Alcohol has a way of loosening tongues, and at my older sister's wedding, my Second Uncle was no exception.

Your sister is lucky to be where she is today, he slurred, swirling his glass. She really ought to thank your mom and dad. They scraped the bottom of the barrelsold everything they ownedjust to send her abroad for that master's degree.

He hiccuped, leaning in closer. "Otherwise, how would she have ever snagged such a rich husband?"

I laughed it off, assuming it was just the liquor talking.

"Second Uncle, you've had too much," I said. "Lily went on a full scholarship. Our family didn't spend a dime."

He poured himself another brimful glass, a sloppy sneer spreading across his face.

"Full scholarship? Don't make me laugh. Her junior year, she failed a course and almost didn't graduate!" He took a swig. "Your parents sold the farmland and the house back home. Even borrowed ten thousand from me. That's the only reason she made it overseas."

The champagne glass in my hand turned to lead. Cold dread pooled in my stomach.

The timeline clicked into place with sickening precision.

The year Lily went abroad was the same year I failed my graduate entrance exam. I had begged my parents for just 0-0,500a prep course so I could retake it.

They refused. Claimed they were broke. Couldn't squeeze out a penny.

Turns out they weren't broke. They'd funneled every last cent to my sister.

I couldn't breathe. Without a word, I walked out of the banquet hall.

I'd barely stepped inside my rental when my phone buzzed. My mother's voice came through, shrill and accusing.

"Why did you leave without saying goodbye? You're a grown woman with absolutely no manners! Both of you are my daughtersso why is one a phoenix soaring through the sky while the other is just dirt?"

I gripped the phone. My voice came out deadly calm.

"Since that's how you feel, you can pretend you only have one daughter from now on."

The receiver exploded.

"Are you crazy? I criticize you once and you want to disown us?" Her words came rapid-fire. "You think because you have a job now, your wings are strong enough? You think you don't have to listen to me anymore?"

In the background, relatives murmured, trying to smooth things over.

"Forget it, let it go. The child's grown updon't say such ugly things. Savannah's a good kid; we all know that."

But my mother wouldn't stop. She never did. Not until she'd verbally ripped me to shreds.

"Today is your sister's big day! Everyone's happywho are you putting on this show for? Or did we offend Your Highness somehow?"

Her tone was lofty, overbearing. Same as always.

I waited for a gap in her tirade. When I spoke, my voice trembled despite my efforts.

"When Lily went abroad, you paid for it. Sold everything to support her. Why did you lie to me? Why did you say you didn't spend a dime?"

Dead silence.

When my mother's voice returned, it was cold as ice.

"So that's what this is about. You were waiting to throw this in my face." She scoffed. "Yes, we paid for your sister's schooling. So what? It's our money. We give it to whoever we want. Since when do you get a vote?"

Rage surged through me. My hand shook.

"For her schooling, you sold the house and the land without hesitation," I choked out. "But when I begged to borrow fifteen hundred dollarswhen I offered to write you an IOUyou refused. Said it was impossible."

"We're both your daughters." Tears stung my eyes. "How can you be this biased?"

My vision blurred. It wasn't just the money.

Lily's future matters, but my life is worthless?

What hurt most was the betrayal of Grandma's wishes. Before she passed, she'd said the house would go to Lily, but the land was meant for me. They'd sold my inheritance without a second thought to fund Lily's life.

The phone was snatched away. My father's voice boomed through like thunder.

"Savannah Cox! You dare talk to your elders like this? Did all that education rot your brain?"

"We spent money on your sister because she's been obedient since she was a child! We did it willingly!" He was roaring now. "And look at younot even married, and you're already calculating your parents' assets? Ungrateful wretch!"

He didn't let me respond.

"I'm telling you now: it's our money. We give it to whoever we please. You, Savannah Cox, don't get a say. Not one bit!"

Arguments lose their meaning when the bond is already severed.

I didn't think I could be this calm. My voice remained steady, devoid of the tremors wrecking my insides.

"You're right. I can't control you." I took a breath, steeling myself. "But listen closely: since Lily is the only daughter you care about, she can handle your future. Do not contact me again."

I gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. "Consider me dead. As far as you're concerned, I was never born."

I ended the call before they could respond.

Silence reclaimed the small rental apartment, heavy and suffocating. The ticking of the wall clock sounded like hammer strikes against my skull.

Mechanically, I prepared a bowl of instant noodles. The steam curled up, carrying the scent of cheap preservativesa stark contrast to the feast I knew was happening elsewhere. While I ate, my thumb hovered over my phone screen before tapping open social media.

Lily had just updated her feed. A nine-photo grid.

The center image featured a massive red banner: 0-000,000 Dowry. The bold golden characters mocked me.

In the candid shots, Mom and Dad gazed at Lily with eyes full of tenderness. She wore a traditional red bridal gown, intricate gold embroidery shimmering under the lights. They looked like the perfect, happy family.

Her caption was sickeningly sweet: Thank you, Mom and Dad, for giving me the best love in the world.

I scrolled to the comments. Amidst the sea of congratulations, Mom's reply sat pinned at the top.

Silly girl, Mom and Dad will forever be your safe harbor.

A string of sun and kiss emojis followed. To any outsider, it was a touching display of mother-daughter devotion.

My hand shook so violently I nearly dropped the phone. I enlarged the photos, zooming in on every smile, every loving glance.

A hot tear splashed onto the screen, distorting their happy faces.

We shared the same blood. We came from the same womb. Why were our worlds so different?

Lily and I were twins. She entered the world fifteen minutes before me.

According to my parents, Lily had been weak and sickly since birth. They dragged her to hospitals across the country, doting on her fragile health. I was dumped at my grandparents' house in the countryside and lived there until I finished elementary school.

Their excuse never changed: You stole your sister's nutrition in the womb. That's why she's sick. It's your fault.

They only brought me to the city for middle school because the village didn't have one. That was when my life as their live-in servant began.

While Lily lounged on the sofa watching TV and crunching potato chips, I scrubbed floors until my knees bruised. I washed dishes, hauled trash, hung laundry.

On our birthdays, Lily unwrapped brand-new princess dresses and porcelain dolls. I received her cast-offsstained clothes and broken toys she'd grown bored of.

I was young then. I didn't understand the cruelty of it.

"Am I not good enough?" I once asked Grandma, tears stinging my eyes.

Grandma smoothed my hair, her expression pained. "It's not that you aren't good, child. It's that you're too sensible. You don't make enough noise."

Her words only confused me. At school, teachers praised the obedient students. Why did my obedience at home make me invisible?

Desperate for their approval, I threw myself into my studies. I thought if I was perfect, they would finally see me.

I was wrong.

The memory of my first year in middle school remained etched in my mind like a scar. I came home clutching my final exam resultsa perfect scoreand the "Top Student" certificate.

My heart hammered as I placed the certificate on the living room table, right where they couldn't miss it. I didn't need a gift. I just wanted a smile. A hug. Good job, Savannah.

Instead, Mom's hand cracked across my face.

The sting was sharp, immediate, blinding. I stumbled back, clutching my cheek, staring at her in horror.

"Don't you know your sister failed her exam?" Mom screeched, her face twisted with disgust. "How dare you show off your grades? You did this on purpose to humiliate her!"

Dad didn't defend me. He sneered, eyes cold. "Exactly. So young, yet so vain. Your thoughts are dark, Savannah. Always scheming."

Vain. Scheming.

The words nailed me to the floor. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but no sound came out.

Dad snatched the certificate from the table. Without breaking eye contact, he ripped it down the middle, then tore it again and again until my hard work was nothing but confetti on the floor.

He raised his hand, letting the shredded paper drift to the floor like snow. Watching the confetti fall, Lily finally stopped crying. A smile broke through her tears, triumphant and cruel.

Memories of the injustice clawed at me.

I remembered the college entrance exams vividly. I had outperformed Lily by a significant margin, and Grandma and Grandpa had rewarded me with a thick red envelope. When Lily found out, she flew into a rage, threatening to run away if the "imbalance" wasn't corrected.

To pacify her, Mom and Dad hiked her monthly allowance to $450. Meanwhile, studying in Los Angeles, I scraped by on 0-020.

"Grandpa and Grandma are playing favorites," Dad had justified. "We have to make it up to Lily. Keep the bowl of water level."

"I earned that reward because I did well on the exam!" I had screamed, tears streaming down my face. "If you won't match it, fine. But why is my allowance a fraction of hers? How is that fair?"

Dad didn't answer with words. He answered with a boot to my chest.

Pain exploded in my ribs. I collapsed, gasping, unable to stand. He didn't even glance at me. Instead, he cradled Lily in his arms, pointing a shaking finger at my crumpled form.

"You know your sister has been frail since birth, yet you haggle over every cent? We're family. Can't you just yield to her?"

That kick severed the last thread of my affection for them.

From that moment on, I swore to become financially independent. When my allowance ran dry, I worked. At my peak, I juggled classes and three part-time jobs in a single day. Days before my postgraduate entrance exam, I was still pulling shifts at a fast-food joint. Exhaustion caught up with me; I got caught in the rain, developed a high fever, and bombed the exam.

When Mom and Dad found out, they didn't offer comfort. Only ridicule.

Dad sipped his tea, voice flat. "I don't know what you do all day. Four years of university, and you can't even get into a graduate program. Look at your sistershe calls us every day, and she breezed into an overseas university."

"On a full scholarship," Mom added, beaming. "Won't cost us a cent."

Their words made me feel small. Worthless.

I had been confused then. Lily had never taken a book seriously in her life. How had she suddenly pulled it together? Now I knew. Her "scholarship" was a lie. She had climbed her way to New York on a ladder built of our parents' blood and sweatand my sacrifice. They had whitewashed the bribery to save face.

And me?

I had missed the cutoff for my dream school by a few points. I begged them for a 0-00,000 loan to retake the exam, offering to sign an IOU.

They refused. Coldly.

"Business is tight," Dad said, waving me off. "You need to start working and support the family."

Mom scoffed. "What if you fail again? Even if you get in, you'll be an old maid by graduation. Who'll want to marry you then?"

Under their pressure, I surrendered. I found a job near our hometown paying 0-0,200 a month. I kept $450 for survival and handed the rest to my parents for "safekeeping."

That money, I realized now, had flowed directly to Lilyfunding her tuition and her lavish lifestyle abroad.

During the two years she spent "earning her master's":

While I pulled all-nighters in a cramped rental revising proposals, she was sightseeing at the Statue of Liberty.

While I shivered on an electric scooter commuting through winter storms, she sipped lattes in warm campus cafs.

While I worked unpaid overtime on weekends, she traveled the globe, posting pretentious captions like, "The world is a book, and I've turned another page."

We lived in different universes, and my parents watched it happen without a shred of guilt.

The most ridiculous part? Back then, I had actually felt proud of my sacrifice.

With Lily living halfway across the world, I'd let myself believe the distance had healed something. That I'd finally gotten my family back.

But I'd only been surviving on scrapsthe overflow of love Mom and Dad saved for her.

Now the truth was out, and I was the punchline. The humiliation burned hollow in my chest.

I closed the app and locked my phone, watching the screen go dark. Then I flipped open my laptop.

There it wasan email I'd saved for a moment exactly like this. A job offer from my undergraduate professor, one of the few people who'd ever seen my worth.

Tessa Fox's email was brief, but it offered a lifeline. She had officially retired from the university and launched her own startup in Washington D.C.

"The company is young, but the potential is limitless," she wrote. "Are you interested in joining the team?"

I'd been tempted from her first message. But hesitation had anchored me thenmy parents were aging, and D.C. felt like a world away. I'd convinced myself I couldn't leave.

Now, the decision was easy.

I hit send, and Tessa responded almost immediately.

"Savannah, you are always welcome here. I'm currently leading a team on an inspection tour across the states, so take your time settling your personal affairs. You can report for duty after the New Year."

I read the words twice, then exhaled a breath I'd been holding for years. Just get through the holidays. Once the New Year passed, my new life would begin.

That night, I slept deeper than I had in a long time.

New Year's Eve arrived with a biting chill.

I'd fully prepared to spend the holiday alone in my rental apartmentbought a few groceries, resigned myself to the silence. Then my phone buzzed.

Mom and Dad.

I stared at the screen, finger hovering over decline. After a long pause, I swiped to answer.

"Hello?"

"Savannah?" Mom's voice was soft. Tentative. A tone I hadn't heard in years. "It's New Year's Eve... why haven't you come home?"

I stayed silent, gripping the phone.

She didn't get angry. Instead, she let out an awkward chuckle. "Come on, now. What family holds a grudge overnight? Angry words are spoken in the heat of the momentare you really going to hold onto them for a lifetime?"

Dad chimed in, his usual bark replaced by a wheedling tone. "Your sister and brother-in-law are back. The whole family is here, except for you. The circle isn't complete without you, Savannah."

Mom's voice cracked. "You are my own flesh and blood. How could I bear to let you spend the holiday all alone? I love you and your sister equally. Please, come home."

I looked out the window. Fine snow had begun to drift down, dusting the gray streets in white. Downstairs, a family of four walked past under the streetlightsyoung parents laughing, each carrying a child, discussing dinner plans.

Perfect, ordinary warmth.

My vision blurred.

Who doesn't crave that? Who doesn't yearn for simple, genuine connection?

Give them one last chance.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Okay."

The moment I stepped through the front door, the savory aroma of roast meat and spices enveloped me.

Lily and her husband answered the door.

"You finally came back!" Lily pulled me into a tight hug before I could react.

My brother-in-law took my coat immediately, then served me hot tea and sliced fruit.

Mom bustled out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Her smile reached her eyes. "I'm so glad you're here. I made all your favorites today."

Tears stung my eyes again. For a moment, it felt real. Like the family I had always wanted.

Before I could settle in, Lily grabbed my arm. "Come with me. I have something for you."

She dragged me into the bedroom and produced an exquisite gift box. Inside lay a stunning red coat.

Sharp tailoring. Soft as buttercashmere, likely. One look told me it was expensive. The kind of luxury I'd glance at in store windows but never dare to touch.

For over twenty years, Lily Cox had never given me anything but headaches. Now she was handing me a fortune in fabric.

"Try it on," she urged, eyes gleaming with an emotion I couldn't place.