They Chose Wrong Chapter 2

My father, Robert Sinclair, and my brother, Evan, had just gotten out of their car. They were both glaring at me.

"All this drama just for money," Robert sneered, his voice laced with contempt. "Chloe has never been as crass and materialistic as you. We never should have acknowledged you in the first place."

I couldn't help but laugh, a hollow, bitter sound. "Acknowledged me? As your daughter? Who in all of South Crest even knows I'm your daughter? You think I'm materialistic, that I only care about money?" I gestured wildly. "That's because Chloe never has to think about it! She doesn't even have to ask. You just pile jewelry and houses and trust funds on her. Me? All I get from my 'family' is my own brother accusing me of being a thief!"

My gaze fell on Evan, who stood silently to the side, and a wave of nausea rolled through me.

When I first came to the Sinclair mansion, I was an enemy to everyone. Everyone except Evan. He was the only one who showed me any kindness. He would ask about the scrapes on my knees, inquire about my grades, and secretly press a piece of candy into my palm when no one was looking.

"It's a big brother's job to make his little sister happy," he'd said with a warm smile.

I was so naive. I believed he genuinely cared. I let my guard down completely, so when he gave me a delicate silver bracelet, I accepted it without a second thought.

Until the day Evan called the police, reporting that a custom bracelet he’d bought for Chloe was missing.

In front of the entire family, the police searched my tiny closet and found it tucked away in my things. I tried desperately to explain, to tell them that Evan had given it to me himself.

Eleanor’s hand cracked across my face.

"You are so cheap, Audrey," she hissed. "Evan barely speaks to you. Why on earth would he give you a bracelet? Especially this one, which he had made specifically for Chloe."

I crumpled to the floor, my hand pressed to my stinging cheek, staring up at Evan in disbelief. And in that moment, everything clicked into place. Evan was already involved in the family business, the heir apparent Robert and Eleanor were grooming. If he had truly wanted to protect me, why would he let me live in a closet? Why would he stand by and watch me get hurt, time and time again? Every single one of our "kind" interactions had taken place in secret, where no one could see.

Later, after the police had left, Evan cornered me, his face twisted into a cruel smirk.

He told me everything. The scrape on my knee wasn’t an accident; he'd paid another student to push me down the stairs. The candies he gave me were laced with something to make me feel sluggish and sick, all to ensure my grades would never surpass Chloe’s.

"You know, Audrey, there was one thing I said that wasn't a lie," he whispered, his voice like poison. "It's a big brother's job to make his little sister happy. It’s just a shame my only sister is Chloe. What the hell are you?"

At sixteen, I had been stabbed in the back by the person I trusted most.

Looking back now, it feels like I was under some kind of spell, desperately clawing for a shred of affection that was never there. But after falling from that building, I finally understood. Nothing is more important than being alive. Their love was like candy laced with arsenic—tempting on the outside, but designed to drag you into a world of pain.

Facing their collective annoyance now, I felt nothing. The will to fight, to argue, to plead, was gone.

"You know," I said, my voice quiet but firm, "you were right about one thing. My return was a mistake. So I'm leaving. Let's put everything back the way it was."

Without another glance at the Sinclairs, I picked up my suitcase, adjusted my backpack, and walked out the door.

The heavy oak door slammed shut behind me.

And just like that, the invisible chains that had bound me for so long simply fell away.

I walked down the long, manicured driveway, a strange lightness in my step. I found myself humming a tune as I dragged my suitcase toward my new, rented life. The apartment wasn't big—just one bedroom, a living area, and a bathroom—but it was a palace compared to that closet.

After I finished unpacking, I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted but content. I was just drifting off to sleep when my phone buzzed violently on the nightstand, jolting me awake. I grabbed it and answered without looking.

Leo Prescott's impatient voice filled my ear. "Audrey, what is it this time? Hasn't Chloe given up enough for you? Do you really have to push her like this, running away from home to threaten everyone?" His voice softened into a condescending sigh. "What happened to the sweet, understanding girl I used to know?"

"She's dead," I said, sitting up. My voice was calm, detached. "You all gave up on her. You watched her fall, remember? And besides, Leo, didn't you always want me out of the Sinclair house? Why are you pretending to care now?"