Chapter 2Born a Tree Not a Flower

When did Oliver start looking after Zora like it was his job?

Probably around the same time everyone else decided she was the only one who needed taking care of.

Her name was Zora—meaning "life".

My mother used to say they didn't expect Zora to achieve greatness; they just wanted her to stay healthy and be happy by their side.

At first, I felt the same way.

I worked twice as hard, trying to give her the best of everything.

But gradually, everyone forgot that I had needs, too.

Our birthdays were only two days apart, but the family always celebrated them as one.

When we were kids, I didn't mind.

Until the year Oliver brought over two gifts.

Zora immediately grabbed the pink cashmere gloves. "I love these! Thank you, Oliver!"

I froze.

Oliver had promised me those exact gloves weeks ago.

I looked at him. For a second, he seemed taken aback, too.

But then he simply smiled, ruffling Zora's hair. "If you like them, they're yours, Zora."

I blinked back the sting in my eyes and lowered my head.

"That's fine," I whispered. "I actually like the blue ones anyway."

A tear slipped down my cheek, splashing onto my phone screen.

Just then, my screen lit up with a text.

It was from Henry, my senior in the lab.

Henry: "I ran that dataset one more time for you. You can use it directly—no errors."

I stared at the message, a bit stunned. It was the set of data I had rushed through without double-checking in my hurry to finish. I hadn't realized Henry had caught it.

I bit my lip, and on a strange, sudden impulse, I typed back: "Thank you, Henry. Can I buy you lunch tomorrow to make up for it?"