You have a step sister, go and meet her.

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YOUR POV:

For most of my life, it had only been my mother and me. I grew up watching her carry the responsibilities of two parents without ever complaining, even when exhaustion was written all over her face. She worked long hours, sacrificed things she wanted, and made sure I never felt the absence of the father who left us behind. Because of that, when she finally told me she had decided to marry again, I didn’t argue or question her choice. If anything, I respected it. After everything she had endured just to raise me, she deserved a chance to be happy, and I was willing to accept whoever could give her that peace.

My stepfather turned out to be nothing like the cold or distant man I had imagined. From the moment we met, he treated me kindly, almost as if he had already decided that I was part of his family. He was generous, patient, and oddly attentive to the smallest details about me. When my mother and I eventually moved into his large, quiet house, he made sure I felt comfortable there, even going as far as spoiling me with things I never asked for. For a while, it felt like life had suddenly become easier, like the struggles my mother and I once faced had been left behind the moment we stepped into that new home.

But the house didn’t only belong to him.

It also belonged to his daughter, Jennie.

And from the very first moment we met, I knew she hated the idea of me being there. Jennie was beautiful and confident, the kind of person who could easily charm anyone she wanted. Yet when it came to me, her attitude was the complete opposite. She was cold, rude, and constantly dismissive, as if my presence in her home was some kind of personal insult. While her father welcomed me warmly, Jennie treated me like an unwanted guest who had overstayed his welcome. At first, I tried to ignore it for my mother’s sake, convincing myself that her hostility was just the result of a sudden change in her life. But as time passed, the tension between us only grew stronger, and I slowly began to feel that Jennie’s hatred toward me wasn’t as simple as it seemed. Something about the way she looked at me—like she was guarding a secret I wasn’t supposed to uncover—made me realize that moving into this house might have placed me in the middle of a story I didn’t fully understand yet.