Chapter 1Shadow of the Sun

My twin sister was born autistic and seemingly simple-minded. By the time she was seven, she still hadn't spoken a single word.

My father planned to marry her off as soon as she turned sixteen.

I, on the other hand, carried the weight of high expectations and was meticulously groomed for success.

Pitying my sister's situation, I would sneak around to play with her, enduring my father's scoldings and beatings, secretly vowing to save her.

But when I turned eight, my sister suddenly got better.

Not only could she speak fluently, but she also casually solved a math problem I had been agonizing over for a long time.

My father, astounded, declared her a prodigy and decided to devote all his resources to her.

And I fell into a state even more miserable than my sister's had been.

"The family's resources must go entirely to the most gifted child. Chloe is just too average; marrying early and having kids is her true calling."

"After the holidays, we'll send her off as a child bride." My father and mother had decided my fate.

I was consumed with anxiety. The night before, my sister came to say goodbye.

"Sister, I'm leaving. Please try to be happy."

She said she was running away from home.

In that instant, memories of a past life flooded my mind.

After my sister left home alone, she met a tragic end. My parents treated me as a sinner, and my life became a living hell.

"They all abandoned me. Are you going to throw me away too?"

This time, I decided to make my sister stay, and I would be the one to leave.

* * *

"Mia, how did you solve this math problem?"

I stared in shock at my expressionless sister, Mia.

A minute ago, I had been holding my scratch paper, calculating the problem my father had assigned for the umpteenth time. I had agonized over it from early afternoon until dusk, but that crucial step always eluded me.

Just as I was about to set it aside, Mia sneaked in to find me.

"Sister, I want to play catch. Play with me."

My naturally slow sister had recently started speaking. As her older sister, I was relieved and happy. Even at the risk of being scolded by my father, I promised to make time to play with her every day.

I glanced outside; it was well past our usual agreed time.

"But Mia, the most important thing right now is, how on earth did you solve this math problem?"

My father favored smart children. Since I could remember, he made me memorize math formulas daily, saying only straight A's made me worthy of being his child and earning the right to inherit the family business.

To avoid being discarded and to protect my sister, I studied like my life depended on it.

While other kids goofed off and climbed trees, I recited textbooks. While Mia cuddled and acted spoiled in Mom's arms, I solved equations.

Maybe I was just too stupid. I often couldn't get perfect scores on the assignments my father gave, and the extra-credit problems took me ages to solve. My father was never fully satisfied.

Yet my sister, who had always been considered simple-minded, easily achieved what I found so difficult.

"I looked at your textbook. I knew how to do these the second I saw them. Are they supposed to be hard?"

Mia looked up, confused. I wanted to press her further, but she said, bored, "Sister, I'd rather play games with you than do math problems. Can we go outside now?"

I was speechless.

With complex feelings, I put down the paper and fulfilled my promise to play with Mia.

As it got dark, we headed home. My father was waiting under the porch light, waving us over.

"I made some custard. Come eat it before it gets cold."

I was just about to thank him and ask if I could share half with Mia, but my father acted as if he didn't see me. He turned to Mia and said warmly:

"Mia, I heard you solved the math problem I assigned in under a minute. You're so smart. You'll definitely bring honor to the family in the future."

"I made this custard for you. Eat it while it's hot."

Mia hesitated for a moment, then slowly stepped forward.

Everything shifted into slow motion. My eyes widened as I watched my father shower my sister with boundless praise, and then look at me with... disgust.

"Why are you still standing there? Do you want to eat your sister's food?"

"You greedy, useless thing, get out!"

My father's tone was impatient, as if my very presence was polluting his sight.

Terrified of his anger, I quickly retreated and closed the door. Just before it shut completely, the sight of my father preparing to spoon-feed my sister made my limbs go stiff.

Before, he only knew how to discipline me with a belt and rarely gave me a pleasant look, let alone such an intimate gesture.

It seemed I had been discarded.