After I Threw Away My Sketchbook, I Became the Gallery Star Chapter 07

After I Threw Away My Sketchbook, I Became the Gallery Star Chapter 07

Life moved at a breakneck pace in my new city.

With savings I’d stashed away over years, I rented a one-bedroom apartment. I landed a position as curatorial assistant at an Independent art gallery.

No more mandatory family logistics, no endless running errands for someone else’s art career. Every hour of my day belonged solely to me.

One afternoon a month later, I cross-referenced exhibition checklists at the gallery when my cell phone

buzzed with an unfamiliar number. I answered the call.

“Rachel! When are you coming home for good?!” Catherine’s shrill voice blared through the speaker, sharp enough to sting my eardrums.

Gone was her usual soft, demure act-only unbridled rage remained. “Do you realize Mom and Dad won’t spare me a glance all because of you?”

My pen paused mid-checkmark, my tone calm and unruffled. “Why would their treatment of you have anything to do with me?”

“It has everything to do with you! Ever since you ran away, Mom refuses to buy me new paint sets, and Dad canceled my European immersion trip entirely!” Catherine shrieked through the phone. “How could you be so selfish? As the older sister, aren’t you supposed to make sacrifices for me?”

“Selfish?” I huffed a quiet laugh.

“Of course you are! Why leave those stupid expense logs lying around the house trying to play the victim? Do you think they feel sorry for you? They’re only embarrassed!”

Her true nature spilled out raw and unfiltered at last. She’d spent her whole life feeding off my labor and goodwill, standing on my shoulders to soak up all our parents’ adoration. Now that I’d stepped out from

under her, she’d crashed straight to the ground.

“Catherine.” I cut her tirade short. “Every privilege you’ve ever enjoyed was built on maffipulation. If you’re so naturally gifted as everyone claims, keep putting on that perfect prodigy performance. I don’t have time for this game anymore.”

“You-!”

“One last thing before I hang up.” I interjected coolly. “That starry sky mural everyone praises? You never painted a single stroke of it, did you? Mom did all the work for you. Without me handling every tedious prep task, you couldn’t even stretch a canvas frame properly.”

“Shut your mouth! I’ll tell Mom to blacklist you across the entire art industry-you’ll never land a single show again!”

“Feel free to try.”

I ended the call with a tap and blocked the number without a second thought.

Back at the Wright household, Catherine gripped her phone, shaking from head to toe with fury.

She whirled around and froze mid-step. Mom and Dad stood directly behind her, faces ashen, their stares alien and chilling.

They’d left work early to consult a PR firm about tracking me down-and heard every vicious word of

Catherine’s screaming without missing a syllable.

“Cathy.” Mom’s voice was soft, laced with icy frost. “You just called Rachel selfish?”

Panic washed over Catherine instantly. Hot tears spilled in unbroken streams down her cheeks. “Mom,

that’s not what I meant at all! I just miss Rachel so badly, I said those awful things to coax her back home

faster!”

She threw herself forward, attempting to melt into Mom’s arms as the wronged, innocent little girl she’d always pretended to be. But Mom stepped sharply backward, dodging her embrace.

“Your European trip was canceled because I suspended your supplementary credit card,” Dad pinned her with a heavy stare. “Three thousand dollars was charged to that card-money Rachel earned working three separate part-time jobs. Did you know that?”

Catherine’s eyes darted away, avoiding his gaze. “I had no clue. I thought Dad deposited that cash for me.”

“You had no clue?” Dad raised his voice sharply. “Were you also unaware you stomped a muddy shoe print straight onto your sister’s graduation painting in the basement?”

“It was an accident!” Catherine shrieked.