Thirty minutes before the wedding was supposed to start, I found my custom-made Vera Wang gown destroyed in the bridal suite. The train was shredded to ribbons, the diamond inlays were ripped off, and the bodice was drenched in red paint and dirty mop water. From the moment the dress was delivered until now, the only person who had entered the room was my adopted sister, Chloe, who insisted on doing my makeup. I couldn't take it anymore. I slapped her. But instead of support, my fiancé and my parents forced me into a corner, demanding I put on the ruined dress and beg Chloe for forgiveness. "It's just a dress, Elena! We can hold another ceremony later. Do you have to act like such a psycho and hit people? Apologize now, or the engagement is off!" I watched Ethan tenderly comfort my sobbing sister. I fought back the tears, turned around, and walked out the door. I dialed a number I had saved in my contacts a long time ago. "Hello, I’d like to purchase residency on the private island. And I want the 'Customized Family' package." A pleasant, robotic female voice answered from the other end: "Purchase confirmed. Your move-in date is in 10 days. Welcome home." 1 "I said apologize to Chloe. Are you deaf?" Ethan’s voice stopped me in my tracks, dripping with impatience. I tried to walk out, but my parents grabbed my arms, dragging me back in front of Chloe. My father’s grip was so tight my wrist instantly bruised. Mom shoved me against the wall, pointing a manicured finger at my face. "What happened to you? You used to be sweet. You made a mistake, and you need to apologize to your sister. Did we raise you to be this rude? Don't you dare walk away!" Blood from a cut on my forehead trickled into my eye, turning my vision red. I looked in the mirror at my pathetic reflection and laughed bitterly. From the start, this wedding was planned entirely around Chloe’s tastes. Even my makeup was applied by her—my parents insisted she was a "pro." But she had made me look like a ghost. And the only thing I was allowed to choose—my dress—was now destroyed by her hands. I scanned the room. Every single person looked at me with disgust while fiercely protecting the fragile, weeping Chloe behind them. "Right. She did nothing wrong. It’s always me." I should never have come back from the foster system. I should have stayed in the trailer park and let this cuckoo bird keep her stolen nest. My father scoffed, rolling up his sleeves before slapping me hard across the face. "Hmph. As long as you know you’re wrong." "But actions have consequences. Since you're too stubborn to beg, I'll teach you some manners." He grabbed me by the collar and kicked the back of my knees, forcing me to crash onto the hardwood floor. Pain shot through my legs. Chloe, eyes brimming with fake tears, smirked at me before putting on her act. "I forgive her, Daddy. Please, let her up!" "She’s just been jealous since she came back home. But as long as she treats me like a sister and lets me stay, she can do whatever she wants to me." Ethan looked at her with adoration. "You’re too kind, Chloe. Stop crying." "If it weren't for that stupid pact our grandmothers made, I would never be marrying her." After the forced apology, I used the wall to pull myself up, desperate to leave. But my parents blocked the door. "The guests are seated. The invites were sent months ago. Where do you think you're going?" "Even if Ethan wants to be with Chloe later, you are going to finish this show today!" They forced me into a cheap, off-the-rack bridesmaid dress Chloe had brought. The hem was stained with red paint from my destroyed gown. I had no choice. When I refused, Mom grabbed my hair, stripped me, and threw me into the changing stall. "Since you came back, Chloe has given you all her old clothes. You seemed happy enough then." "Why are you too good for this one now?" Chloe added softly, her voice trembling, "Elena, are you still mad at me?" Under their relentless pressure, fighting back the nausea, I put on the dress. 2 Standing at the altar, the whispers of the guests surrounded me like a swarm of bees. "That dress looks like it came from a thrift store. You can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you can't take the trash out of the girl." "And that makeup... is she trying to do avant-garde horror?" My parents gave their toasts, playing the loving family. I drank glass after glass of champagne, my skin burning and swelling under the cheap cosmetics Chloe had used. When Chloe came up to give a toast, I whispered, asking if she tampered with the makeup. She suddenly clutched her chest, gasping dramatically. "Elena, it’s not my fault! I just wanted to wish you happiness... why are you attacking me?" Then she hyperventilated and collapsed. Ethan shoved me aside, scooping Chloe into his arms. "Call 911! Get the car!" Mom’s gaze pierced me like a nail gun. "You just had to trigger her in front of everyone, didn't you? You know she has a heart condition! Do you want to kill her?" My allergic reaction was closing my throat. I could barely breathe, wheezing, bent over in a cold sweat, silently begging them to help me too. But no one looked at me. My entire family abandoned me at the altar, rushing Chloe to the hospital. Under the mocking and pitying gazes of the guests, I used my last ounce of strength to call an ambulance for myself. When I woke up in the ER, there wasn't a single text asking if I was alive. Of course. They were too busy caring for Chloe. Why would they care about the daughter they left behind? My phone buzzed. A text from Chloe. Elena, did you really think I’d let you have a happy wedding? They love me. What do you have to compete with? I dropped the phone and closed my eyes. It didn't matter anymore. Soon, I would have a family that actually cared. I wouldn't have to beg for the scraps of love falling from her fingers. 3 When I returned home from the hospital alone, I saw the three of them sitting in the living room. Mom had cooked a feast for Chloe. They had already finished; only dirty plates remained. Just like always. Nothing for me. I tried to slip past them to my room to pack. Dad looked up, frowning. He didn't ask why I was late or if I was okay. He just started yelling. "We haven't settled the score for today. You ruined the wedding!" I stared at him. The father I remembered from my childhood was gone, replaced by this stranger glaring at me. "Chloe destroyed my dress." My quiet defense made him explode. "You have no proof! Why do you always lie?" Chloe squeezed out two tears, and Ethan immediately pulled her into a protective hug. Dad looked at the cuddling pair, then at me. "You never deserved Ethan anyway. If his grandmother hadn't insisted on the engagement, well... you see the signs. Everything going wrong today is proof you two aren't a match." "Tomorrow, I'm telling the York family we're switching brides." Mom looked at me with deep disappointment. "How did you turn out like this? You were such a sweet baby. Sometimes I wonder if the DNA test was wrong. Chloe acts more like my real daughter." My heart ached, but I bit my lip to stop the tears. Dad’s voice dropped an octave. "You deflect blame and accuse your sister of bullying you. But ever since you came back, you’ve been the one fighting for dominance." That opened the floodgates. They started listing every 'crime' I had committed against Chloe. The more they spoke, the more holes they punched in my heart. I was kidnapped at eight and missing until six months ago. When they brought me home, I was full of hope. Chloe had smiled and reached for my hand. I screamed and pushed her into a drainage ditch. From that moment, my parents looked at me like I was a monster. But I stood there, staring at the blood on my palm. When Chloe grabbed me, she had a sewing needle hidden in her hand. No matter how I tried to explain, Mom just smiled dismissively. For the last decade, they had been a tight-knit family. I was the intruder. To please them, I fired the maid and did all the chores. I used the cooking skills I learned in the foster system to make their meals. But Chloe took one bite, vomited, and claimed she had food poisoning. Then her "heart condition" flared up. I went to get her medicine and found her pill bottle was filled with Vitamin C candy. When I told my parents, they scolded me coldly. "Chloe told us you switched her meds. And now you're accusing her? You're sick." That was when I gave up. Ethan, my childhood sweetheart, had welcomed me back with flowers. When I cried alone, he comforted me. I thought he was my lifeline. I learned what he liked, sending gifts to his office. But then I walked in on him holding Chloe, laughing. He promised her that my return wouldn't change her status. Chloe was feeding him the lunch I had spent hours making, claiming our "new maid" cooked it. History repeated itself. "Since you came back, Chloe has sacrificed everything," Mom said again. "She gave you her room, her clothes, her fiancé. What more do you want?" I never wanted her charity. I just wanted what was mine. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. "Those things were mine! You are my parents!" They didn't flinch. "Finally, you admit it. You never accepted her. We adopted her. No matter how jealous you are, she is family!" I opened my mouth, then closed it. There was no point. "You know," Dad muttered, "it would have been better if you never came back." With that sentence, my heart finally shattered. 4 After soothing Chloe, Ethan walked over to me. He looked down at me with disdain and delivered the verdict. Even if it meant breaking the contract, he was going to marry Chloe. "Fine," I nodded. "I wish you a lifetime of happiness." I went upstairs to my room, but stopped. It was completely changed. "Chloe isn't feeling well," Mom called out from the kitchen. "You stayed in the master suite for a month. That's enough." They had moved my things to the dusty attic. Not that I had much. Just the hand-me-downs Chloe didn't want. "I cleared it all out. Check if I missed anything," Mom said. "No need. I won't need it." I was going to the island. I would have a fully furnished villa and a new family. "At least you have some self-awareness," Mom said, turning back to bake Chloe a soufflé. I curled up in the drafty attic, smelling the sweet vanilla wafting from downstairs. It smelled like my childhood, hiding in this very attic while Mom baked cookies to lure me out. That happiness was dead. This broken room was my only shelter now. I cleared a spot amidst the junk—old blocks, Barbies, a wooden unicorn Dad carved for me. All covered in dust, abandoned. Just like me. I sat down and looked at the photos the customer service rep sent me. They were the prototype designs for my customized family robots. They looked exactly like my parents when they were young. The rep suggested I choose my happiest memory as the baseline personality setting. So, I uploaded the photos from my 8th birthday party. For Ethan, I chose the photo of him smiling gently the day I returned home. 5 I fell asleep clutching my phone. I dreamt of Dad making me a floral dress and Mom helping me put it on. We flew kites on the lawn, and I spun around until the dress looked like a blooming flower. But the dress started to rot. It turned into the wedding gown covered in paint and sewage, sticking to my skin, suffocating me. I woke up gasping. The wind had blown the attic window open. My head was burning, my throat dry as sandpaper. I crept downstairs for water. As I passed my parents' room, I heard them talking. "Maybe we should send Elena back to the country. With Chloe here... she's so fragile. It hurts me to see her stressed," Mom said. "Honestly," Dad agreed. "Blood doesn't make family. Years of bonding does." Mom hesitated. I heard a pen scratching on paper. "But Elena’s foster family died in a car crash. If we send her back, she’ll be homeless." Silence. A suffocating silence. Mom, Dad, please don't throw me away. If you keep me, I'll be good. I promise. But before I could finish the thought, Dad spoke. "We have to prioritize Chloe's mental health. She used to have all our love. Having to share it... haven't you heard her crying herself to sleep?" They started discussing Chloe's vacation plans with love in their voices. My heart went hollow. I dug my nails into my palms until they bled. I had hoped, and I had lost. Dad and Mom didn't want me. So I wouldn't want them either. The island service offered customized family members. I could build a family that only loved me. These people? I was done with them.
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