Yuna woke up very slowly, as if her body refused to rise from the weight of yesterday. The same clothes were still clinging to her body, the same foul smell of alcohol rose from her fabric, as if it were a stain that couldn't be washed away. She raised her hand to her forehead, felt the headache pounding from within, and whispered in a tired voice:
"Ah... my head... this is why they prevent minors from drinking... It's torture."
The door opened lightly, the maid entered, as she did every morning. There was no sympathy in her features, just a duty she performed. She said in a cold voice:
"Madam... It's breakfast time. You must go down to the dining hall."
Yuna stared at her for a moment as if her mind hadn't processed the sentence. She finally muttered:
"What?... Ah, okay."
I began to change my clothes slowly, as if each piece was heavier than the last. My head was heavy with the smell of alcohol still clinging to my hair and clothes. I wanted to stay in my room, to close the door and disappear from everything, but the maid's voice was stern when she said:
"Madam... Breakfast is ready, you must come down."
There was no choice in the matter. I hesitated, then took slow steps towards the stairs. Each step I descended carried me to a world that didn't resemble me... a world I wasn't chosen to be in.
I arrived at the dining hall, and they were there: Aren, Theo, Damian, and the father. Their loud laughter pierced my ears before I stepped inside. Their laughter was like daggers; I wasn't part of it, and I had no place among those voices. But when I entered, silence suddenly fell. As if my presence alone was a crime.
I sat on the seat opposite them. I didn't ask their permission, and I didn't smile, I just sat. I knew that my presence alone was enough to disturb their ranks.
Aren, as usual, tried to break the wall. She said, smiling lightly, a smile carrying some concern:
"My sister... why were you late returning yesterday? I was worried about you."
I lowered my head slightly, her words were warm but weak against this suffocating atmosphere. I found no answer except a cold sentence, which I said as if talking to myself:
"I don't know... I forgot the way."
A short silence prevailed. Then, as I expected, Theo's voice came harshly, mixed with deliberate sarcasm:
"You don't know the way? How is that? Weren't you always going out alone? Didn't you run away from the palace many times? You want us to believe you were lost? Do you really think we're fools?"
That laugh of his was more dangerous than his words. A laugh carrying cold contempt, a laugh telling me: You are nothing.
Aren suddenly flared up and said:
"Stop it, brother! She said she forgot the way, and that's it. Why do you always attack her?"
But her voice wasn't enough. It was weak like a breeze passing over a rock.
Then the father turned towards Aren, ignoring me as if I didn't exist, and his voice suddenly became warmer:
"Aren... How are you at school?"
She answered joyfully, as if she had been waiting for this question for a long time:
"Father... I got excellent grades in all subjects, and I was first in the class."
He looked at her for a long time with eyes full of satisfaction, then reached out his hands and gently patted her head:
"This is my daughter."
At that moment, I felt something collapse inside me. The word "my daughter" stuck in my ear, but it wasn't for me.
The father moved to Theo:
"And you?"
Theo raised his head confidently, and said as if presenting a personal victory:
"I became first at the university."
The father smiled, his voice becoming proud:
"This is expected of you. If you continue at this level, I'll give you what you asked for a long time ago."
I was watching them, a strange feeling wrapping around my heart. Not just jealousy... but a feeling that I was an outsider among strangers, that I was sitting at a table that wasn't mine.
Then came Damian's turn, who said quietly:
"We secured a collaboration with the company managed by Mr. Lee."
The father raised his eyebrows in surprise, then laughed a little:
"This is a great achievement. I heard that this man doesn't deal easily."
Damian laughed in turn:
"But I convinced him. I've been skilled at negotiations since childhood, haven't I?"
A smile rose on the father's face as he said:
"True... you were always smart."
I waited for him to turn to me, to ask me just a trivial question: How are you? Did you eat? Anything... but nothing came.
Then he said in a calm voice, distributing his gaze among the three:
"You are my children, and this is expected of you." His looks were proud.
That word was like a knife, "all of you"... and I was sitting here, was I included in the "all"? Or am I just a shadow that doesn't count?
Aren suddenly raised her head, with a courage I didn't expect from her:
"Father, why don't you ask my sister? She's also a part of us."
For a moment, I looked at him... I wanted to see his reaction, I wanted to believe his heart would soften. But what I saw was worse than I expected. He gave me a blank look, his eyes like ice, then he said with absolute coldness:
"Your sister?... And what will we find with her? She's just a despicable girl, loitering around drunk with strange men."
My footsteps on the cold floor were almost inaudible, but inside me, each step was like a hammer striking iron. I wanted to leave, just to get away from the table where laughter and stabs mixed, from the place where no one sees me except as an extra shadow.
But Theo's voice caught up with me before I grabbed the door handle:
"What? You say you don't know the way? How do you know the way to school and don't know the way home?"
Theo's laugh was full of contempt, like a dagger slowly twisted inside my chest.
I stopped. I didn't turn to him. The air became so heavy it made my lungs refuse to breathe. Something strange swept over me, not anger or fear... but a mysterious tremor. It was something that didn't belong to me at all, something older than me, awakened inside me.
"How did the original Yuna manage to endure this empty family?"
The sentence wasn't mine. It came out from between my teeth as if it emerged from a memory I didn't own. My body trembled, my hands turned cold until I felt my limbs freeze.
Then, Yuna looked, her eyes became dead as if she remembered something. A blurry image appeared, a little girl, with a mole below her mouth. She was crying, her eyes flooded with tears, her hand pressing on her stomach as if pain was squeezing her.
"No, Father... Please... don't..."
I shuddered, returned to the present, and everyone was watching me. Their eyes as if waiting for me to collapse. But my eyes were black, without sparkle, as if I were a walking corpse.
I didn't say a word. I just opened the door and walked down the long hallway. The red carpet under my feet seemed like blood slowly swallowing me. I could hear my breath catching, and the sound of my heart slower than usual, cold... meaningless.
When I reached the outer door, the driver was standing by the car, waiting.
He smiled warmly:
· "Good morning, miss."
His words seemed as if they came from another dimension. His smile was like something strange that didn't belong to this world. I looked at him for a moment, then entered the car silently.
Sitting in the seat made me regain feeling in my body. The smell of leather, the sound of the engine, and the cold coming from the glass. Everything seemed normal, but it didn't touch me.
I put my head on the cold window, my eyes open but I saw nothing. Inside me was repeating:
"Maybe the original Yuna lived a life full of suffering, neglect, and denial, but is it really worse than my life?" I mused: "Do you think I can live like this? As long as I live in safety..."
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