The Unwanted Luna’s Farewell Chapter 02

The Unwanted Luna’s Farewell Chapter 02

I stood up, wanting to head back to my room, only for Mom to call out to me.

“Charlotte, clean up the trash on the floor.”

The gifts belonged to them, but the cleanup duty belonged to me.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t fought back before.

But Mom would start tallying accounts with me.

“You’re the oldest; you enjoyed our love for a few more years than Owen and Olivia.”

“When you were born, you stayed in the pup incubator for three months, costing more money than Owen and Olivia.”

“The school you went to was far from home, costing extra money for pickups and after-school care compared to Owen and Olivia.”

“You got so many advantages—isn’t it only right for you to yield to them a few times?”

And that yielding had lasted for twenty years.

I tossed the squishy blob of a burger straight into the trash can.

“Whoever owns the stuff cleans it up.”

Mom’s eyebrows knit together instantly.

“Got wings now, do you? How dare you speak to me like that?”

Owen chimed in quickly: “She looks down on Mom’s gift. Wasting her thought.”

Olivia put on a teasing smirk: “In-flight food, wow. We’ve never even had that before. Charlotte, you’re still picky?”

I turned my head to look at them.

“Want to trade with me, then?”

Olivia hastily grabbed her skirt train, as if I were going to rip the gown off her body the very next second.

“Mom, Charlotte’s trying to steal my stuff!”

My mom soothed her softly.

Then whirled around, glaring viciously at me.

“That’s for Olivia to wear to the ball. Can’t you be a little sensible?”

“What about me?”

I heard my own voice turning raspy with grievance and anger.

“Whatever they wanted, no matter how hard… you brought it back.”

“I just wanted a normal pair of headphones. How hard was that?”

Seeing how I—usually so sensible—had suddenly turned so unyielding, Dad finally put down the fishing rod in his hand.

Dad used to be a Gamma warrior in the Silverfang Pack; obeying orders was his absolute principle.

Yet the moment he stepped back into this house, his so-called principle always boiled down to one single rule—

Don’t make a scene.

First, he used his eyes to signal Owen and Olivia to shut up, then walked over and patted my shoulder.

“You’re already an adult; you need to manage your own affairs.”

“Your mom dragged such a heavy suitcase traveling all day—isn’t she tired?”

“What did we teach you growing up? To be grateful. You’re the older sister; you should set a proper example for Owen and Olivia.”

“Finish cleaning up the trash, and consider it an apology to your mom.”

This maneuver—appearing to mediate while actually sweeping things under the rug—I had seen it far too many times over the years.

Suddenly, I was struck speechless.

The four people in front of me stood together in silent alignment; not a single one thought I had been wronged.

In Mom’s eyes, giving everyone one portion was already fair. As for what it actually was, that didn’t matter.

Owen and Olivia comfortably enjoyed that hidden favoritism.

As for Dad—ignoring right and wrong, wanting only to maintain surface peace. Who got sacrificed in the process? What did it matter?

Carrying a stack of cardboard boxes, I maneuvered with difficulty through the hallway, the sound of the family’s laughter echoing from behind the closed door.

The wolf inside me lay quietly.

This time, she didn’t look back for the familiar scent of family behind her.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Pulling it out to check, a message on Slack caught my eye.

[Charlotte Hayes, congratulations on passing your evaluation. Please report to the Omaha headquarters next Monday for onboarding.]

[Welcome to Northstar.]

Below, a personal note from HR was attached:

[Your welcome kit is ready! Looking forward to having you officially join the team.]

An image was attached underneath.

I tapped to enlarge it.

On a clean, tidy desk sat flowers, a welcome card, and a beautifully packaged gift box.

At a single glance, my eyes caught the black headphones.

A label was affixed to the transparent packaging, with a lovely bow pinned to the top left corner.

In the dim hallway, the phone screen’s light flickered softly.

The family I had lived with for over twenty years brought me a free flight meal as a gift.

The company where I interned for two months prepared a personalized welcome bundle for me.

Turns out, the details had given away the answer all along.

I opened the chat box and typed out a reply.

“Thank you so much. I’ll be there.”

Three days. Just three days left.