The Wrong Birthday Wish Chapter 1

On her eighteenth birthday, my sister received company shares, a luxury car, a villa...

And I received a paternity test proving we shared no blood relation.

My mom smiled coldly.

"Chloe, since you aren't our biological daughter, you'll have to pay us back for the cost of raising you these past seventeen years."

My dad sneered.

"Starting today, you're the maid in this house. We'll credit you a hundred bucks a month to pay off your debt. Room and board are not included."

I didn't ask them how it was possible that my twin sister—who looked practically identical to me—could be their daughter while I wasn't.

Instead, I calmly nodded.

Because last night, standing outside their door, I heard:

My sister, holding our parents' hands, whined, "Mom, Dad, my birthday wish is to be the only child of the Jenkins family. I want to enjoy your exclusive love. Let my sister be a maid for a year, please?"

My dad's face was full of doting affection. "Alright, whatever you want."

My mom agreed with a smile. "For this year, Mom and Dad will belong only to our precious Mia."

After everyone had dispersed, I looked at the leftover cake on the table, stuck a candle in it, and made a wish:

I want to leave the Jenkins family. Not for a year, but for a lifetime.

...

My sister, Mia, covered her mouth and gasped.

"Sister, no wonder you're so ugly! You don't look like Dad or Mom. Turns out you really are a fake."

Her shout was loud and exaggerated.

As if she had completely forgotten we were twins and looked at least seventy percent alike.

"Oh no, you're not my sister at all. You're just a wild bird from who knows where."

My mom's expression was distant and cold.

"Chloe, since the truth is out and you aren't a child of the Jenkins family, this birthday banquet is solely for our precious daughter, Mia. You have no right to attend."

I looked up at Mia, whose face was full of smug satisfaction.

She wore a custom-made princess gown and a tiara that cost as much as a house.

Then I looked down at myself, wearing a faded, washed-out shirt and jeans, the cuffs frayed.

I smiled bitterly.

Right.

I never possessed that right since I was a child.

So how could I lose it?

My dad raised his voice. "Starting today, you will move into the maid's quarters. For the sake of our past relationship, until you find your biological parents, you'll work as a maid here. I'll credit you a hundred bucks a month—no room and board—to pay back the seventeen years of child-rearing costs we spent on you."

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

Like a pathetic clown, amidst the mocking and derisive gazes,

I bent down and picked up my backpack.

Mia rushed over with blinding speed and yanked my backpack hard.

The broken zipper, held together only by safety pins, burst open instantly, spilling my belongings all over the floor.

Mia shrieked.

"Aha! I knew it! You actually stole things from our house!"

Among the scattered books on the floor lay a single, pink sanitary pad.

My mom looked a bit uncomfortable. "Mia, forget it. It's just a pad."

Mia immediately refused to let it go. "Mom, I am the only daughter of the Jenkins family now. What is she? She's freeloaded off our family for years, and now she's stealing our stuff! If I say she doesn't deserve it, she doesn't deserve it."

Seeing her angry, my mom immediately began coaxing her softly. "Okay, okay, don't be mad, sweetie. You're right. You are Mom's one and only darling now. You can do whatever you want."

Satisfied, Mia stomped on the pad, grinding her heel into it.

"Alright, I don't want it anymore. It's yours."

I stared at the sanitary pad, covered in footprints. My throat felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton—heavy and suffocating.