Chapter 6: The Truth Ava Spills

He watched me, eyes cold, calculating. I could see the disappointment etched into every line of his face.

Ava could boost his image, but what about me?

She was the golden child, the one everyone loved. I was the problem.

“I just want to go to public school. Let me go to Maple Heights High.” I was firm.

I sat up straighter, refusing to back down. This was the one thing I wouldn’t compromise on.

My mom wanted to persuade me, but my dad cut her off: “Enough, let her decide. If we love our child, we shouldn’t force her.”

He sounded reasonable, even kind. But I knew it was just another way to wash his hands of me.

I almost laughed out loud, but held it in.

The urge bubbled up, sharp and bitter. I swallowed it down, keeping my face blank.

The laughter stuck in my throat turned into a cold wave in my heart.

It chilled me, settling deep in my bones. I was done hoping.

I started high school.

The halls of Maple Heights High buzzed with energy—students shouting, lockers slamming, the scent of cafeteria pizza lingering in the air. I kept my head down, blending in as best I could.

Maple Heights High.

It wasn’t glamorous, but it was real. I liked that about it.

It was the farthest school from home, so after two weeks, I suggested living on campus.

I waited until dinner, the whole family gathered around the table. I dropped the idea casually, as if it didn’t matter.

Everyone at the table looked surprised.

Forks paused mid-air. Eyes turned to me. Even Mason looked up from his phone.

Mason, who rarely came home, frowned at me: “Living on campus? Emily, why does it feel like you’re not close to us at all?”

His tone was sharp, almost accusing. He made it sound like a betrayal.

“You’ve been back over two weeks. Still not used to home?”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. I kept my face calm.

How could I ever get used to it?

I wanted to ask him that, but I bit my tongue. Some things were better left unsaid.

I suffered for three years and never got used to it.

Every day felt like walking on eggshells, waiting for the next blow to fall.

“Living on campus makes studying easier.”

I met his gaze, unflinching. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm.

I calmly explained.

My voice was steady, even. I’d practiced this line in my head a hundred times.

Mason narrowed his eyes and said nothing.

He studied me, searching for weakness. I didn’t give him any.

My mom held my hand. “Emily, is something bothering you? I always feel like you don’t fit in with us…”

Her grip was gentle, her voice soft. But I could hear the worry underneath.

Yeah, I don’t fit in.

I wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault. Or maybe it was. Either way, it didn’t matter anymore.

So, better to be out of sight and out of mind.

I’d learned that lesson the hard way. Sometimes, distance was the only way to survive.

“It’s just better for studying,” I repeated.

I kept my answer simple, giving them nothing to argue with.

Next to me, Ava’s eyes turned red, like she was about to cry. “Em, you must hate me, right? Don’t live on campus—I’ll go live on campus instead. I won’t show up in front of you.”

She stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. Her voice trembled, just enough to sound believable.

She got up to pack her things.

She made a show of gathering her books, her hands shaking. She wanted everyone to see how hurt she was.

I smiled.

It was small, almost invisible. But it was real. I saw right through her act.

Ava, you’re really desperate.

I thought, not unkindly, that she was trying too hard. It was almost sad.

For over two weeks, she’d tried every trick to provoke or slander me.

She’d spread rumors. Whispered lies. Tried to get under my skin. But I refused to play her game.

But I didn’t fight or compete—like an otter, I just slipped away, silent and unseen.

I kept my head down. Let her words slide off me. I didn’t give her the reaction she wanted.

Ava had no way to deal with me.

She was used to winning. My silence was the one thing she couldn’t control.

Now, she finally found an opening and immediately put on an act.

She jumped at the chance, turning herself into the victim. It was almost impressive.

Anyone with half a brain could see through her little scheme.

I wondered if my parents noticed, if they cared. Maybe they just liked the drama.

My parents and brother saw it too, but they didn’t care—they always favored Ava.

They let her cry. Let her act. Let her have whatever she wanted. I was just background noise.

Mason put down his fork. “Ava, what do you mean, live on campus? Sit down!”

His voice was sharp, impatient. He didn’t like being embarrassed at the dinner table.

Ava sniffled and obediently sat back down.

She wiped her eyes, head bowed. The picture of wounded innocence.

My dad took the opportunity to agree to my request: “Since Emily wants to live on campus, let her. It’s not a big deal.”

He sounded reasonable, almost generous. But I knew it was just easier for him this way.

Of course it wasn’t a big deal. In my last life, I lived on campus too.

They barely noticed I was gone. I was out of sight, out of mind.

Actually, I rented a room next to the school.

It was small. Barely furnished. But it was mine. I liked the quiet.

Back then, because Ava kept picking fights and spreading rumors about me, my still-immature self couldn’t hold back and fought with her.

I let her get to me. I lashed out, desperate to defend myself.

We both fell down the stairs. I was unharmed, but Ava’s head was covered in blood.

The world slowed. Red pooled on the floor. I froze, heart pounding.

I thought I’d won, but when the family rushed over, I realized I’d lost completely.

They didn’t ask what happened. They didn’t care about my side.

My mom hugged Ava, sobbing with pain.

She cradled her, rocking back and forth. Her tears were loud, messy, real.

My dad, furious, grabbed me and yelled, “Emily Hayes, what are you doing? Are you crazy?”

His grip was bruising. His words sharp. I shrank away, too stunned to speak.

Mason was home too, and without a word, kicked me: “Do you think this is the country? Who let you fight like a wild animal? Apologize to Ava!”

His kick landed hard, sending me sprawling. I bit my lip, holding back tears.

All their anger was aimed at me.

It was like I’d done something unforgivable. No one cared how I felt.

I apologized in fear, while Ava cried as she packed her things.

My voice shook, barely above a whisper. Ava’s sobs filled the room.

She said I didn’t like her and she wanted to move out, leaving the home to me.

She made it sound noble, like she was sacrificing everything for me.

Naturally, the family didn’t want that and tried to keep her.

They begged her to stay. Promised her everything. I was invisible.

I stood aside in a daze.

I watched the scene unfold, numb and hollow.

Mason suddenly scolded me: “You made a mistake and don’t even react? I think you should move out—this house only has room for Ava!”

His words cut deep, sharper than any slap. I realized, then, that I was truly alone.

That snapped me awake. No wonder my parents always looked at me like they wanted to say something but held back.

It all made sense. They were just waiting for me to leave.

Turns out, they wanted me to leave on my own.

They didn’t want to be the bad guys. They wanted me to make it easy for them.

It was like a slap in the face that finally woke me up.

I’d spent so long trying to belong. It was time to stop.

I moved out—forced out by my family.

I packed my bags in silence, not looking back. No one tried to stop me.

I lived in that rented room for two whole years.

It was lonely. But it was mine. I learned to survive on my own.

Back to the present, I went upstairs to pack my things.

I moved quickly, folding clothes into neat piles. I didn’t take much—just the essentials.

I’d move out early—just as they wanted.

I wouldn’t give them a chance to change their minds.

I rented a tiny apartment near Maple Heights High, not moving directly into the dorms.

It was barely big enough for a bed and a desk, but it was quiet. No one bothered me.

Only the housekeeper was bustling around.

She hummed softly, dusting shelves and sweeping floors. She was the only one who seemed to notice I was leaving.

She was confused and quietly asked me, “Miss, are Mr. and Mrs. Hayes really okay with you living here alone? Why aren’t they coming?”

Her voice was gentle, full of concern. She looked at me like she wanted to help.

Of course they wouldn’t come.

I shrugged, forcing a smile. I didn’t want her pity.

After all, Ava was in a bad mood again, and they were busy comforting her.

They always had an excuse. There was always something more important than me.

Seeing my silence, the housekeeper awkwardly tried to comfort me: “Maybe they’re just busy. They’ll come see you when they’re free.”

She patted my shoulder, her touch warm. I appreciated the gesture, even if it wasn’t true.

She was wrong.

I knew better. I wouldn’t let myself hope again.

My parents and brother never came to see me.

Not once. Not even a text. It was like I’d disappeared.

I moved out for over a month and didn’t get a single call.

Every day, I checked my phone, just in case. Nothing.

It was like I didn’t exist.

I started to wonder if I ever really had.

Later, I ran into Ava.

It was late afternoon, the sky streaked with orange and pink. I was walking home, lost in thought, when I heard the roar of engines behind me.

On my way back to my apartment after school, I saw her riding a motorcycle, leading a whole group of people roaring down the street, looking like a real rebel.

She wore a leather jacket, her hair whipping in the wind. The people behind her laughed and shouted, following her lead.

It made me pause.

I’d never seen her like this—wild, unrestrained. It was almost impressive.

Ava was the daughter of a wealthy family—she shouldn’t be riding a motorcycle around like a delinquent.

It didn’t fit the image my parents wanted to project. I wondered if they knew.

If my parents knew, they’d definitely scold her.

They’d panic. Try to rein her in. But Ava always did what she wanted.

She noticed me too, revved her engine, and stopped right in front of me.

She slid off the bike, helmet under her arm, a smirk playing on her lips.

Before I could say anything, she took off her helmet and looked me up and down with a smirk. “Emily Hayes, long time no see.”

Her voice was low, teasing. She looked me over, searching for weakness.

I just replied, “Yeah.”

I kept my voice even, refusing to let her see how much it hurt.

She flipped her hair, crossed her arms coolly, and asked, “Haven’t Mom and Dad called you even once?”

She leaned in, eyes bright with mischief. She already knew the answer.

I nodded.

No point in lying. She’d just twist it anyway.

She asked if I wanted to know why.

She tilted her head, waiting for my reaction. I stayed silent.

I shook my head.

I didn’t need her explanations. I already knew the truth.

She said, “Actually, they wanted to call you, but every time they tried, I cried. To take care of me, they just didn’t call you.”

She said it with a shrug, like it was no big deal. Her smile was sharp, cutting.

“Of course, the main reason is, they’re resentful toward you!”

She grinned, enjoying the power she held. She wanted to see me break.

I listened quietly.

I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me react.

Ava tried to hold back a laugh. “You’ve been home a while, but you’re not close to Mom, Dad, or Mason. Don’t you think they’d resent you?”

She raised an eyebrow, daring me to argue. I just stared back.

“I never expected to win without a fight. I used to be afraid of you—afraid that if you came back, I’d lose my place. But what happened? You left home yourself and gave everything to me. Thanks a lot.”

She spread her arms wide, as if accepting an award. Her friends laughed behind her.

As she spoke, she watched my face carefully.

She was looking for cracks, for weakness. I gave her nothing.

She was testing me—trying to see if I was just naturally clueless, or if I’d given up on purpose.

She wanted to know if I’d finally learned my lesson.

I wanted to laugh.

Sis, aren’t you tired?

I almost said it out loud. I almost told her she could have it all. I was done fighting for scraps. I was done playing her game.