The Overlooked Twin Is the Pack’s S-Class Warrior Chapter 03

The Overlooked Twin Is the Pack’s S-Class Warrior Chapter 03

After that bland, tasteless dinner, Wesley showed up at the door with two iced drinks—one for Sarah, one for me.

Sarah took a huge gulp of her pink slush and gave him a thumbs-up. “You get me. Nothing beats ice-cold in summer!”

I held my cup. The chill seeped from my hands straight into my chest.

Before Wesley met Sarah, he’d told me he had an older brother too. So dazzling his family only ever saw him. I’d naively thought we were the same.

After he met Sarah, he said, “Gotta be honest—your sister’s just way more likable than you.”

Even so, I still liked Wesley. He was the only one who remembered me while doting on Sarah. He always bought two of everything—identical. But at some point, both gifts were always what Sarah liked.

“Katherine, what are you waiting for? Drink it. I got it specially for you.” Wesley noticed I wasn’t drinking and tossed out the command. His eyes never left Sarah’s smiling face.

I looked at him and said, “Wesley, I’m allergic to peaches, and my stomach can’t handle ice.”

The air went still for a second.

Wesley frowned, like he was trying to remember, then shot back impatiently. “Are you sure? I remember you eating peaches once. And come on, it’s summer. What juice shop doesn’t put ice in it? Don’t be so high-maintenance.”

But that once was the very first time I ate a peach. He’d cried and apologized, swore he’d never forget my peach allergy again.

Apparently his forever lasted three years.

Owen sneered from the side. “Katherine, are you seriously about to ruin the mood again?”

I lowered my gaze, disappointed, and felt nothing but relief that I hadn’t chosen an academy in the central city. Otherwise I’d be in for four more years of being overlooked and blamed for no reason.

The next day, Mom and Dad planned to book a venue for the acceptance party.

Outside our house, I stood awkwardly in place. The sun blazed on the asphalt, burning my skin.

Dad called out, “What are you waiting for? Get in.”

“There’s no room for me.”

Dad’s brow knit. “You’re old enough to squeeze in. Figure it out.”

Mom echoed, “Your sister gets carsick. She needs the front. Don’t make this a thing.”

In the passenger seat, Sarah adjusted the sun visor. In the back, Mom and Owen each leaned against a window. Wesley sat wedged in the middle, a new laptop bag for Sarah on his lap.

Not a single spot was left for me. If I forced myself in, I’d be mashed like a stray dog.

“There’s no room.”

“Then catch a cab to the hotel. It’s not far.”

I nodded and stepped back. “You guys go ahead. I—”

Before I finished, Dad floored it. The car sped off. Exhaust hit my face, stinging my nose.

I walked home along the same road. In the kitchen, I made myself a bowl of noodles. I added hot sauce—really hot. It burned tears down my face, but I ate every bite.

After, I washed the bowl, wiped the stove clean.

My phone buzzed. A voice message from Mom. In the background, laughter and praise for Sarah. “Katherine, why aren’t you here yet? Hurry up and get a cab. Don’t make us wait.”

I hovered between blocking her and replying, then only say a word, “No.”

Back in my room, I started packing. Only current-season clothes. I could buy winter gear in Blackthorn. Everything else—including that gray crossbow—I left on my desk.

But when I opened the old tin box where I’d kept every birthday red envelope and Christmas cash since I was eight, only a few coins remained. The big bills were gone.

I tore my room apart, even checked under the mattress. Nothing.

Where had the money gone?

Panic surged—I was about to call the police when the door swung open.

Sarah dangled a moonstone bracelet in front of me. “Pretty, right? Mom bought it. It was so expensive—thirty-eight thousand.”

The missing amount from my tin? Exactly thirty-eight thousand.

I stared at Mom in disbelief. “You stole my money?”