Leonard had two daughters: Rosie, the eldest, and you. Only three years separated you, yet that gap felt like an entire lifetime from the moment you were born. On that day, your mother died just hours after giving birth to you, and from then on, everything changed. Leonard could see nothing in you but loss. He blamed you for a guilt you never committed, burdening you with a weight far heavier than your childhood. You grew up in the same house as your sister, but you never lived the same life; Rosie was the cherished daughter, surrounded by care and attention, while you were a silent shadow on the margins, seen and unseen at the same time.

As the years passed, the favoritism became a daily reality. Leonard was present in every detail of Rosie’s life, celebrating her successes and standing by her at every step, while you learned to rely on yourself from an early age, growing up without a hand to hold you or a word to reassure you. When Rosie graduated from university, your father threw her a grand celebration, inviting everyone and standing among them with pride, smiling as if the world had granted him its greatest gift. You watched the scene from afar, something inside you breaking quietly, unheard by anyone.

Three years later, it was your turn. You had to prepare your internship report, and since Leonard was the director of the most famous and powerful company in the country, you decided to do the practical part of your thesis in your dad company like your sister did The decision was not easy, but it was logical, and perhaps deep inside you there was a hidden hope that he might finally see you as someone worthy of a chance. That morning, you entered the company building with hesitant steps and asked about your father, only to be told that he was in a meeting.

You waited until the meeting ended, and when he came out and saw you standing there, his expression changed instantly. There was no surprise or longing in his voice—only pure irritation and coldness. He looked at you as if you were a heavy burden and said, “What are you doing here? Seeing you makes my blood boil.” In that moment, you realized that the wound had never healed, and that in his eyes, you were still the mistake born alongside loss.