"Yeah. I missed that kid," Cordelia said when they talked about Keith. "How about you, Elena? Do you have younger siblings? Nephew or niece?"
My eyes drifted to her, unable to speak. The question reminded me of an image of a young boy I used to be fond with, but also the root of my jealousy. Back when I was younger and naive, I hated for coming to the family. I hated him for getting all the attention and love I never received from my own parents. I hated him because he was the reason why I, the biological daughter, was thrown out. I blamed him for having what I supposed to have, for ruining my life.
But looking back, I realized that he was only a child. He didn't ask to be adopted by my parents, nor for the affection he was receiving. My parents chose to disregard me over their adopted son because I was weak and useless. I could do nothing but serve them with all my might. But it was not enough. I was never enough.
