They Forgot My Name, They Forgot My Ticket, They Forgot Me Chapter 04

They Forgot My Name, They Forgot My Ticket, They Forgot Me Chapter 04

“Are you out of your mind?!”

I screamed at him. “Where did you throw them?”

Without those documents, I couldn’t go to the research institute. I’d miss the deadline waiting for replacements.

My parents appeared at the top of the stairs, hissing at me. “Keep your voice down! Yasmin’s resting—she doesn’t want to hear you.”

I was shaking, trying to hold myself together—but the tears came anyway. “Cedric, where did you put them?”

He’d never seen me like this. A flicker of panic crossed his face. “The trash cans at the front gate. Don’t cry—I’ll take you to get replacements tomorrow—”

I pushed past him and ran out barefoot.

I reached the garbage area at the gate—twelve overflowing bins, the heat and stench making me gag. I searched them one by one.

A security guard came over with a baton. “What beggar made this mess? Who’s going to clean this up?”

I begged, crying. “My family threw away my ID. I have to find it.”

Blood seeped through my bandage, trickling down my elbow.

I don’t know how long I searched. Finally, I found my documents in a trash bag. I wiped them clean with paper.

I walked home barefoot, covered in filth. The gravel had torn up my feet, leaving bloody footprints behind.

I reached for the keypad.

Incorrect password. The alarm echoed through the hallway.

Mom’s voice came from behind the door. “Your father and I talked it over. It’s better if you stay somewhere else for a while. Once Yasmin gets better, you can come back.”

An envelope slid under the door. Her voice was low. “I didn’t want to transfer money and risk Yasmin seeing it. Just take this cash for now.”

I took a breath. “My luggage—”

She opened the door just enough to push my already-packed suitcase out. Then closed it immediately.

I didn’t miss the look of disgust as she covered her nose.

Silence in the hallway again.

This time, I didn’t cry. My tears had never matched Yasmin’s.

I didn’t touch the envelope. I picked up my phone from on top of my suitcase and changed my flight from tomorrow night to tonight.

I showered at the bathhouse, then dragged my suitcase to the airport.

Before turning off my phone, I saw the family chat. Yasmin had posted a photo at a restaurant—Mom, Dad, and Cedric around her. A birthday cake. “Happy Birthday, Princess Yasmin.”

It was my birthday too. But since she came back, I’d never been allowed to celebrate with her.

Mom, Dad, and Cedric all sent her cash gifts.

Then Cedric sent me one privately, with a note: “Maybe you should just change your name. Your name was hers to begin with.”

I didn’t reply.

I left the group.

I blocked them all.

I turned off my phone.

When they saw the notification that Jocelyn Vance had left the chat, my parents didn’t react.

Yasmin smiled a little and ate with more enthusiasm.

Cedric sent her a question mark, asking why she’d left the group. The red exclamation mark told him he’d been blocked.

He frowned—assumed she was just throwing a tantrum.

It took half a month for anyone to notice something was wrong.

My parents and Cedric went to the police station to file a missing person report.

The officer on duty was the same one who’d brought Yasmin back six years ago. Pale-faced, he pulled them aside.