In a house filled with contradictions, I always felt like Daddy’s girl — the pampered daughter of the wealthy CEO who never said no to me. I’d accompany him to meetings, he’d proudly show me off to everyone, always calling me, “My little princess, no one compares to you.”

My twin, on the other hand, was closer to our mother, taking after her in every way. But I could sense jealousy slowly creeping into her heart.

One evening, she walked into my room, her eyes gleaming with a hint of envy, and said sarcastically, “I don’t know how Dad can’t see through you. All that acting doesn’t fool me.”

I looked at her with a calm smile and replied, “Maybe it’s because you don’t know how to be real.”

She never liked seeing me close to Dad. She’d always try to turn him against me, whispering suspicious things in his ear. But he’d just pat her shoulder dismissively and then turn to me with a whisper: “Ignore her. No one could ever take your place.”