It was the fifth year since my own brother sent me to kidnappers, and I finally escaped, barely clinging to life.
Dizzy with hunger, I spotted a discarded cake on the roadside and crammed it into my mouth.
My mouth was still full when a heavy kick sent me sprawling to the ground.
Stella! Are you deliberately showing up on Isabellas birthday to provoke her again?
My eyes met his, and I realized it was Albert, the billionaire brother who had just thrown a multi-million dollar birthday bash for the girl everyone thought was his real sister.
He sneered, his gaze cutting through my miserable face.
Now you know how hard life outside is, huh? You totally deserve this!
You still have one more month left of your five-year term. Then Ill bring you home and give you the best life.
But only if you promise not to hurt Isabella ever again!
I rubbed my eyes hard, but no matter what, I couldn’t make out Alberts face. Suddenly, I chuckled.
Maybe he was always just a blur in my mind, except for the pain he inflicted.
No never again, I whispered.
He wouldnt have to worry about his beloved sister being bullied anymore. And I wouldn’t be coming home with him.
After all, with late-stage brain cancer, even one more month of life felt like a luxury.
I choked down the stale cake, the bitterness matching my own.
I knew he didnt want to see me, so I wisely pushed myself up, my leg throbbing, desperate to get out of his sight.
But the cancer in my brain had spread to my eyes, and I could barely see the path ahead.
I hunched over, my hands reaching out, fumbling my way forward, slowly.
Then I heard ita few harsh laughs. It was Alberts friends.
Oh, look at her, playing the crippled beggar card to make Albert pity her and take her home early.
Shes really going all out, isnt she? No shame, especially in public like this!
Seriously, Alberts a billionaire. Shes totally embarrassing him.
Alberts face went dark with anger, his pride clearly wounded. He growled, barely suppressing his fury.
Stella, when I say one month, I mean one month. Not a day sooner will I take you back.
Besides, I specifically told them to be decent to you. You were only supposed to face some hardships, not end up like *this*! This act is sickening.
I froze. *Be decent to me?*
Past pains flooded my mind, a tide of memories. In the end, I just shook my head with a faint smile and kept moving.
But before Id walked two steps, someone stopped me.
Stella, wait!
That familiar voice. Even without seeing her face, I knew it was Isabella.
She pressed a perfectly intact slice of cake into my hand.
As her hands clasped mine, her nails dug in, sharp and malicious, almost breaking the skin.
Its my birthday today, so Im not mad about the past, okay? I just hope we can get along when you come home.
The sweeter her smile, the deeper her nails dug in.
Until blood welled up.
But even with the searing pain, I didnt cry out. Because no one would care, and no one would ever believe me.
I took the cake, my only wish to escape them quickly. Maybe then I could live a little longer.
Back in my makeshift bed under the bridge, I frantically rummaged for expired painkillers. I swallowed handfuls, just barely easing the pounding in my head.
The cold wind howled through the bridge tunnel, and I pulled my thin clothes tighter.
A moment later, a charity outreach van pulled up to the bridge entrance, a loudspeaker blaring.
Temperatures are plummeting! Mr. Albert is here with warm clothes and blankets! Come and get them!
The eyes of dozens of beggars under the bridge lit up, and they scrambled to form a line.
I struggled with my throbbing head, joining the very end of the queue.
When it was finally my turn, the volunteer looked at me, then at a photo on his phone.
He waved me away.
Go back. Mr. Albert personally said not to give you anything.
He sneered, a look of contempt on his face.
Mr. Albert is a renowned philanthropist, known for helping any beggar he can. Honestly, what kind of person do you have to be for Mr. Albert to personally tell us to cut you off?
I pressed my lips together. It was expected, yet still absurd.
Albert, the celebrated global philanthropist.
The man who, out of the goodness of his heart, decided to keep Isabella even after discovering she wasnt his blood sister, continuing to give her a life of luxury.
The man who donated globally, praised by everyone for his good deeds.
Yet, he wouldn’t even spare his own flesh and blood sister a warm coat to survive the night.
Too cold to sleep, I decided to move around a bit to warm up.
But as soon as I stood, I saw a little beggar girl being dragged away by a man, his hand clamped over her mouth.
That familiar feelingthere was no mistake. The man was a kidnapper!
Without thinking, ignoring the throbbing pain in my head, I lunged forward, biting down on the mans wrist with all my might.
I punched and kicked, but my strength was no match for his.
In the end, I managed to save the girl, but not before he broke one of my ribs.
Yet, I felt no pain. Seeing the girl unharmed, I burst into laughter.
But as I laughed, tears streamed down my face, unstoppable.
No one, no one knew better than me which was more agonizing: being kidnapped or being a beggar.
Five years ago, on Isabellas birthday.
Just because of her tearful, false accusation:
Albert! Stella called me a fake, said I stole her life, and that she was going to sell me to kidnappers!
Coincidentally, a security guard caught a shifty man in the backyard.
He swore up and down that I had paid him to abduct Isabella.
No matter how I explained, Albert refused to believe me.
His eyes blazing, he slapped me hard across the face, then immediately handed me over to the kidnappers.
I thought if I spoiled you enough, I could change the bad habits you picked up all those years. But I only made you more spoiled, more vicious!
Before Mom and Dad died, I promised them Id help you become a better person. If gentle methods dont work, then youll just have to learn the hard way!
The first day I was sent away, my leg was broken, and I was sold into forced labor on the black market.
Often, I worked for two days and a night straight, without a single bite of food.
I was even locked in a cage, paraded around like an animal, people laughing and poking, living a life worse than any stray.
I once secretly called Albert, crying and begging him to bring me home.
But his resolve was unyielding.
I promised Isabella youd suffer for five years. Thats the only way to wear down your spirit until you wouldnt dare lay a finger on her!
Isabella! Always Isabella!
Why was it always because of her?
From the first day I was brought home, she twisted everything I did, always finding a way to accuse me.
But Albert always took her side, and gradually, I became the villain in his eyes.
After hanging up, I broke down and cried hysterically.
After that, I never dared to hope for the family affection Id longed for.
I became numb, letting them manipulate me, torment me
Until one night, the lock on my box wasnt secured, and I tumbled down a hill.
Terrified of being recaptured, I avoided finding work that would expose me, surviving by begging.
I scrounged for bottles and cans, saved up what little money I could to finally treat my old injuries, only to be hit with a late-stage brain cancer diagnosis.
The little girl beside me suddenly reached out and gently stroked my face, wiping away my tears. She draped half of her thin jacket over me, and we huddled together for warmth.
Suddenly, a large commercial screen in the distance lit up with a news report.
[Mr. Albert Buys His Sister a Lavish Mansion in the Most Exclusive Neighborhood! Valued at Tens of Millions of Dollars! Truly a Global Philanthropist C the Kinder He Is, the More Successful His Business!]
The little girl looked at the house on the screen, her eyes wide as she gazed up at me.
Stella, does everyone get to have a home? I hope you and I can have a home someday!
I froze.
A home?
The orphanage from my childhood was home to all the kids there.
After I was found by my blood family, their house became Isabellas home.
Now, with my life ticking down.
I suddenly wanted a home that was truly my own, even if it was just a burial plot.
So, I started collecting bottles day and night, selling scraps, doing any odd job I could find.
I saved just enough for a deposit on a burial plot.
My body deteriorated daily; often, I wasn’t fully conscious for an entire day.
I knew I could die at any moment.
But I still hadn’t paid the remaining balance for the burial plot.
As I fretted, a passerby on the street handed me a flyer.
You might want to check this out. Theres a mystery CEO throwing a yacht party tonight. Shining shoes for the rich is easy money, hundreds of dollars a night.
And the best part? These rich folks give out generous tips, sometimes a huge amount in one go.
I looked at her extended fingers, then took the flyer.
At this point, any work was good work. I wasn’t in a position to be picky.
I boarded the bus for workers and arrived at the yacht.
From the moment I stepped on board, my knees never left the floor.
I knelt by the entrance, shining shoes for every guest who arrived.
The passerby hadn’t lied; some wealthy kids casually tossed me tips worth hundreds, even thousands, of dollars.
I dont know how long passed, but suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers.
Here he comes! Tonights guest of honor!
I still didnt look up. As I prepared to shine the next pair of shoes, my polishing cloth was kicked clean out of my hand.
Then, a familiar voice filled my ears.
Stella! What the hell?! Youd stoop to anything to get my attention, wouldn’t you?!
There are only three days left until you come home! You cant even wait that long?
I finally looked up, realizing this entire party was something Albert had arranged just to make Isabella happy.
He stared at me, red-faced with fury.
His fists clenched tighter and tighter, but in the end, he just cursed under his breath and stormed inside the yacht.
Listening to the wild party inside, I just counted the cash in my hands, bill by bill.
Realizing I had exactly enough to cover the remaining balance, I quickly called the cemetery owner.
But as I gave him my details and asked him to register it, he sounded puzzled.
Stella? I cant find any information for you. Youve been deregistered; you cant buy anything.
How is that possible? Sir, did you make a mistake? Please check again, okay?
Seeing my frantic, incoherent words, the owner kindly made an inquiry for me. Finally, he spoke softly.
The staff at the bureau said it was Mr. Albert, the billionaire CEO, who forced your identity to be revoked
My phone slipped from my grasp and clattered to the floor. My eyes burned red, completely shattered.
Why? Why cant I even die in peace?
Was he truly going to drive me, his own sister, to rock bottom, all for Isabella?
My head buzzed, and I stormed straight into the party.
Albert!
My shout brought the entire room to a sudden, stunned silence.
How dare you revoke my identity?
Am I not even allowed to exist anymore? To have an identity?
Albert slowly swirled his drink, his gaze on me complex and unreadable.
Youll stoop to anything to get me to feel sorry for you. Who knows what tricks youll pull to mess with Isabella when you come back? If you dont have an identity, you cant do anything.
But dont worry, Im your brother. I can give you everything you want and protect you for life.
I suddenly laughed out loud.
Hed already tormented me to death; what peace could I possibly want?
Isabella, acting all sweet and innocent, patted Alberts back to soothe him. She glanced at the money in my hand and spoke.
Stella, why do you insist on doing such degrading things?
Albert will give you anything you want, wont he? If you hadnt broken his heart and embarrassed him, he wouldnt have done this.
As she spoke, she walked over to me, snatched the money from my hand, and flung it into the air.
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