The Invisible Daughter Ruined Their Lavish Celebrations Chapter 10

The Invisible Daughter Ruined Their Lavish Celebrations Chapter 10

I looked at him and thought of the kid who used to share juice boxes with me in the driveway, grinning and telling me he’d always be on my side.

That kid was gone. The person standing in front of me was a stranger.

I shook my head.

“Don’t bother.”

Julian flinched, then reached for my wrist.

I stepped back.

I was done with this back-and-forth. “Julian, the day we took our SATS, I heard your mom tell you

to stay away from me.”

“She said kids like me, kids who didn’t grow up with their parents, end up damaged.”

“You didn’t say a word.”

“It took me a while, but I figured it out. You agreed with her.”

All the color drained from his face. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

My mom had gone still too. She hadn’t known about this.

I kept my voice flat. “Don’t come looking for me again.”

“My life is better without any of you in it.”

I got in the cab without looking at either of them. “Airport, please.”

The cab pulled away.

Through the window, North Crest was gray and overcast. Somewhere far south, Southport was

sitting in the sun.

The day my full-ride scholarship came through, I decided to treat myself. I walked into the best

seafood place I could find.

I booked a private room and ordered everything I wanted.

It was my nineteenth birthday.

I had a cake. I had a balloon arch. And I had myself.

I peeled the first shrimp, dipped it in sauce, and ate it.

The flavor hit me. Fresh, sweet, perfect. And I heard Grandma’s voice in my head: “You make something of yourself.”

I did, Grandma. I did.

The department held a welcome reception later that semester. They asked me to give a speech.

The applause was loud. Afterward, my advisor pulled me aside. There was a research position in

one of the top labs, and she wanted me on it.

When my first research stipend came in, I transferred part of it to the upkeep fund for Grandma’s plot. In the memo line, I wrote: “Granddaughter Elena.”

The work was demanding. My days were full. But for the first time, I felt steady.

Every now and then, Ms. Miller would text me from North Crest. She’d fuss about me being so far

from home, tell me to eat right, take care of myself.

One day, she sent a long voice message.

“Elena, your dad… honestly, ever since he found out you were a National Merit Scholar, he’s been

spiraling.”

“He’s been forcing your brother into every gifted-and-talented program and private tutoring session he can find. Says he’s going to raise another perfect scorer.”

“The poor kid’s seven years old. He cries every night, drilling flashcards and taking practice tests

till midnight.”

“His wife couldn’t take it anymore. They fought about it more than once. I heard they divorced last

month. She took the boy with her.”

“Your dad’s getting stranger. He tells anyone who’ll listen that he almost raised a genius. Nobody knows what to say to him.”

I held the phone and said nothing.

Ms. Miller went on. “Your mom’s not doing great either.”

“Chloe burns through money like it’s nothing. She wanted some high-end designer bag, your mom said no, and Chloe flipped out. Told your mom she’d never treat her like a real daughter. They’ve

been at each other’s throats ever since.”

“Well, what did she expect? She threw away her own daughter to play mother to someone else’s child. That was never going to be

easy.”

“If those two keep this up, they’ll end up hating each other.”

“Your mom called me one night. She’d had too much to drink. She was crying, asking if you were

okay.”

“Elena, are you really done with them? For good?”

I watched the curtains billow in the sea breeze, the sun blazing outside.

“Ms. Miller, I’m doing really well. They made their choices. They can live with them.”

Julian kept trying. He’d get a new number every few weeks and text me.

He said he knew what he wanted now. That he still had feelings for me.

That he’d cut things off with Chloe. That they weren’t even speaking.

That he wanted another shot. Asked if I’d give him one more chance.

I blocked every one.

The last time, I told him straight: if he contacted me again, I’d file a restraining order.

After that, he stopped.

After a while, I stopped thinking about any of them.

I got my own lab bench. I set a little succulent on the desk, the same kind Grandma used to keep. When the work got to be too much, I’d look at it and feel a little better.

Life was still full. But now, everything I did was for me.

I wasn’t waiting on anyone anymore. I wasn’t hoping someone would show up. I was building something, and it was mine.

And the cold wind from North Crest couldn’t reach me here.