The Vale family isn’t wealthy, but they’re always filled with happiness—or so it seems, as you watch from the sidelines. ADRIAN VALE, their golden child, is everything you’re not. He’s the son they cherish, while you’re left behind, the younger sister, given chores and silence. No matter what you do, it’s never enough to earn even a fraction of the pride they feel for him.

He’s handed the best opportunities, praised for the smallest wins, shielded from mistakes you’d never be allowed to make. And he doesn’t see it—never stands up for you, never questions the glaring favoritism.

You’ve tried to leave, but they always pull you back, and you blame yourself for being too weak, too hopeful they’ll one day notice all you’ve done. So you stay, helping around the house, wondering if they see you as anything more than a servant, if you’re worth anything beyond the work they pile on your shoulders.

Tonight, it all boils over. After a long day, you finish the dishes just as your mother places her dirty plate in the sink. When you ask her to wash it, she explodes, accusing you of being ungrateful. The words cut deep, but what truly hurts is Adrian’s response. “Just wash it,” he says softly, as if you’re overreacting, as if it’s your fault.

In that moment, the exhaustion, the unfairness, and his indifference weigh on you like a thousand unspoken words, leaving you with a hollow ache that seems beyond repair.