After I Severed the Kinship Bond, My Whole Family Regretted It Chapter 04

After I Severed the Kinship Bond, My Whole Family Regretted It Chapter 04

Dad coughed hard twice. Mom abruptly went silent.

I laughed without humor. “Go on. You’ve waited years to say it. You might as well finish.”

When I was born, my parents left their pack to build a life among humans. Money was tight, so they left me with Grandma in Moonridge Pack while they got established in the human world.

Two years later, they had my sister.

Around the same time, their business took off and they started making real money.

They were thrilled. They treated Lyra like their good-luck charm, bought a better house, enrolled her in the best private preschool they could find, and practically forgot they had another daughter.

I didn’t come to live with them until Grandma died and the Pack Council sent an official warning.

Lyra looked like a little doll, outgoing and talented at everything. I stood beside her in an ill-fitting coat, smiling too eagerly at everyone because I’d learned to make myself agreeable. My parents hated that about me too.

At first, I didn’t even have my own toothbrush, plate, or utensils. At night, I slept on the floor of my parents’ bedroom. Sometimes, when we went out together, people would point at me and ask, “Who’s she?”

Mom would vaguely tell them I was her niece.

Even after I got into an Ivy League university while Lyra barely made it into an ordinary state school, I was still the lesser daughter in Mom’s eyes.

She actually cried and demanded, “Why did you have to get into a school like that? Do you enjoy making your sister feel bad?”

There was nothing I could say. All I’d ever wanted was for my parents to be proud of me.

So whenever Mom complained that business was bad and the family could only afford to send me five hundred dollars a month, I believed her.

I told her I’d work as much as I could to take some pressure off them. Sometimes, when I had anything left over, I even sent money home.

Mom told me she was fair, that Lyra got the same five hundred dollars and not a penny more. Like an idiot, I believed that too.

Once that trust had shattered, rebuilding it felt almost impossible.

Mom kept defending herself. “Is money seriously all you care about? If this family is so awful, then stop calling me your mother. Go find somebody else to play family with. I’m not begging you to stay.”

Dad pulled me aside and gave me the same speech he always did: don’t take your mother literally, you know how she gets when she’s angry, just let it go and keep the peace. From the other room, Mom was still shouting, “Let her leave! I already have a daughter. She can call whoever she wants ‘Mom.’ See if I care!”

I nodded.

“Okay. I got it.”

Then I went back to the storage room and closed the door.

Her shouting and crying carried through the door.

I sat on the thin sleeping pad and opened my phone.

The Pack Registry app showed three days until bond matching began.

Three more days, and the last official tie between us would be gone.

Severing a Kinship Bond would hit Snow hard. Losing that connection was painful.

But if that pain bought us freedom, Snow and I were willing to pay it.

For the next three days, Mom acted as if I didn’t exist.

She took Lyra to fan events, bought her the newest phone, deliberately dropped my shirts on the floor while doing laundry, and cooked exactly three portions at every meal.

On the third morning, they were getting ready to go to the aquarium when Mom finally spoke to me.

“Your scholarship should be coming in soon, right? Transfer it to me when it does. Stop being so selfish and contribute to the family for once.”

I said nothing. Soon enough, they wouldn’t be my family at all.

At eleven that morning, representatives from the Regional Pack Council knocked on our door.

When they learned my parents weren’t home, they immediately opened an official Council mind-link.

“Mrs. Vance. Mr. Vance. Return home immediately. We are here to process the severance of your daughter’s Kinship Bond.”