17 Years of Empty Draws: The Neglected Triplet Never Forgives Chapter 02

17 Years of Empty Draws: The Neglected Triplet Never Forgives Chapter 02

Father and Mother booked the banquet hall at Northvale Pack for a grand college send-off party for Maren and Aurelia.

On that day, Maren and Aurelia wore custom designer gowns, receiving congratulations from one relative after another.

What about me? I wore my old school uniform and sat in the far corner.

The smiles on my parents’ faces never stopped.

Until Aunt Marina casually asked: “Where’s Celestine? Which school did she apply to?”

Mother cvt in right away.

“She went to West Ridge. What good college could she get into?”

“If I’d only had Maren and Aurelia, I’d have so much less to worry about.”

I stood by the door and quietly listened as she listed all my supposed flaws to the guests.

For 18 years, I’d always been the bad example to make the other two look better.

Maren had steady grades and was the easy kid my parents talked about.

Aurelia had artistic talent and was their precious girl they were willing to pour cash into.

Throughout three years of high school, my parents hired private tutors for Maren and sent Aurelia to the most expensive art studio for training.

Only I got nothing.

Mother turned and spotted me standing at the door. She frowned.

“Where’ve you been? Can’t you come earlier to help out?”

I was about to speak.

“Forget it. I can’t count on you anyway, looking like that.”

The relatives took their cue from Mother and sized me up and down, disdain filling their eyes.

The college celebration started, and the host suggested a family photo.

I stood up instinctively.

But Aurelia suddenly leaned close to me and lowered her voice.

“Celestine, you don’t even have a college offer. Don’t go up there and ruin the mood.”

I froze in place. “Fine.”

Yet she turned around and pulled Soren, who sat in the back row, onto the stage with her.

Before the photo, Aunt Marina glanced around and asked: “Isn’t Celestine coming up?”

Mother said casually, “She never liked taking photos as a kid. She always looks dull in pictures.”

When we went camping years ago, Father focused on framing sh0ts for Maren, and Mother stayed beside Aurelia.

No one ever asked if I wanted to be in the pictures.

Hardly any photos of me could be found in the family’s thick photo albums.

On stage, the five of them smiled brightly.

Maybe in their eyes, there was never supposed to be a spot for me in the family portrait.

It used to be true.

It was true.

And it would stay true forever.

It didn’t matter. I would never step into their camera frame again.

After the college send-off party ended, Soren handed each of us a box.

Maren got an elegant fountain pen, and Aurelia received a custom pink hair clip.

I opened my box. Inside was a tube of hand cream with the word “Gift” printed on it.

I froze and looked at Soren.

A ridiculous spark of hope still lingered. Maybe he’d mixed up the boxes.

But he explained, “Celestine, you’ll definitely need this when you do odd jobs later.”

I stood frozen, struggling to hold back the tears blurring my vision.

When I snapped back to reality, Mother, Father, Aurelia, Maren and Soren had already gotten into the car.

The car had five seats, and all of them were taken.

Mother glanced at me through the car window. “Take the bus back yourself. You take it all the time anyway.”

The next second, the car sped away and vanished at the end of the street.

I let out a cold laugh and tossed the box into a garbage can.

July in Colorado was normally sweltering, yet a piercing cold washed over me.

When I walked into the house, I saw Mother sorting through Maren and Aurelia’s college gifts.

I was about to head back to the storage room when she called me over.

“Celestine, shouldn’t you give Maren and Aurelia something?”

I paused and turned to face Mother.

“Two grand each..”

She spoke like it was only natural.

Four grand.

That was every penny I’d saved from part-time work each school break starting in middle school, rising early and staying up late to earn it.

Mother and Father had never given me extra pocket cash.

If I needed textbooks, a new laptop or wanted to join school events, I had to work it out on my own.

Now, with just one sentence, they wanted most of my savings to celebrate their other two daughters.

A heavy dull pain settled in my torso, but I made the transfer anyway.

This would be my last transfer.

I’d count this cash as the price to sever my last pathetic hope from these 18 years.

I went back to the dark, cramped storage room.

It had been my living space ever since high school started.

My old bedroom had been split in two. One side became Maren’s study, the other Aurelia’s art studio.

My parents’ excuse was that I didn’t come home often anyway.

I hadn’t argued back then.

Looking back now, they were right.

I opened the flight app and booked a one-way ticket to Seattle.

Departure: three days later.