Chapter 1

My whole family treated me as a stepping stone for my little brother.

Even after I grew up, I was expected to pave the way for him.

My dad jabbed a finger in my face. “He’s the only boy carrying on our family name! What’s wrong with helping him out?”

I cut off their living allowance for the month.

Their precious only son must be pretty amazing, right? Surely he could earn enough to support them.

When I was six, Mom finally got pregnant with my little brother.

Grandma was so happy that she finally let Mom eat at the table with everyone else.

All the best dishes were set in front of Mom. It was the first time she’d ever been given such special treatment.

She tried to put some food on my plate, too, but Grandma blocked her fork.

“Martha, you’re pregnant. You need the extra nourishment. Claire’s just a little girl. She doesn’t need that much.”

Mom gave her a meek smile and said nothing more.

Before they knew for sure that the baby was a boy, Dad and Grandma had been so anxious that they brought in a fortune-teller.

“Don’t worry,” the woman said. “This one won’t be another girl draining your money. You’re getting an heir!”

Dad and Grandma instantly relaxed. They saw her off with huge smiles and a generous cash tip.

Seven months later, Mom’s belly had grown round.

I curled up against it to sleep, the way I always had when I was little. Dad walked in and kicked me right off the bed.

He’d been drinking, and he was furious. “You little brat! Trying to crush my son, huh?”

Mom heard me crying and tried to get up to help me, but Dad slapped her. She didn’t dare move after that.

Neither did I. Nobody dared cross Dad when he was drunk.

A little over a month later, Mom gave birth to my brother.

I thought his arrival would make life easier for Mom and me.

Instead, Mom changed.

She used to walk around our little rural town with her shoulders hunched. Now she carried my brother everywhere, her face glowing with pride.

Everyone said she’d done her husband proud. A son and a daughter—the perfect family.

Mom held her head even higher.

We grew plenty of watermelons at home. Mom brought in the smallest one for my brother, then handed me what he’d left.

There was only a thin strip of flesh clinging to the rind.

“Claire, this is the sweetest part. No seeds, either.”

I stared at that unfamiliar smile on her face, confused and lost.

I was in elementary school then. My brother wasn’t even a year old, and he often cried through the night.

After working all day, Dad would lose his temper whenever he couldn’t sleep.

He kicked Mom and told her to take the baby and get the hell out.

She looked hurt, but she didn’t dare refuse.

I felt hurt, too. I hated seeing her treated that way.

But she told me, “Claire, you need to be more understanding. Men get tired after working all day. We women shouldn’t make things harder for them.”

“But without us, they wouldn’t even get a hot meal. Shouldn’t he be grateful?”

Mom couldn’t answer. After a long silence, she sighed and lay down.

Once my brother was a little older, Mom started going out to work with Dad. All the housework fell to me.

After my last class, I hurried home to boil water and make dinner. Before I could do my homework, I had to feed the chickens and ducks.

When my parents came home, I washed their dirty clothes.

But I was too young to get everything clean. Grandma complained, “You’re useless. Look at this laundry! At your age, I could do everything.”

“If you could do everything, why don’t you do anything now?” I snapped. “All you do is criticize.”

Furious, Grandma complained to Dad that Mom hadn’t raised me right.

I got another beating.

Everyone in my family thought I was clumsy and stupid.

None of them knew I was the smartest kid in town.