The house is filled with people. Matthew's two siblings, Krista and Anthony, arrived yesterday evening to spend the rest of the week here. Krista, Matthew's younger sister, has four kids, all pretty young. I'm almost certain they've ran up and down the stairs over 100 times today. Anthony, the oldest sibling, has two kids— both are pretty close to my age.

It already feels like Thanksgiving night, all the adults together, sitting at the table. All of the kids, including myself, hanging around in the living room.

"Who would ever find you attractive? I'm confused," David says with a disgusted face after listening into Ansley explaining her boy problems to me.

If I'm honest, I zoned out one too many times while Ansley was talking. I nodded along and tried my best to stay focused as she told me about Xavier, her boyfriend who's no longer really her boyfriend, yet is still her boyfriend. Whatever that means.

"Do you really love him?" I ask her.

She takes a deep breath. "I—"

"She only wants to date him because then she gets to go to prom." David rolls his eyes. "Juniors who get to go to prom are apparently the coolest people alive."

I nod slowly, not seeing how a junior attending senior prom makes them cool. Maybe it's because I've been homeschooled my entire life.

You think?

"Stop acting like you know everything, David. You're like, five," she replies, reaching over to smack his head.

"You're just mad cause I'm right." He shrugs.

"You don't know anything, freshie."

I look down at my phone, which lights up with a text from Asher. We've practically been texting since I arrived. He's asked me how it's going. I say the same thing every time. It's going good.

"David! Come play Mario Kart with us!"

One of their cousins, Maya, waves him over from the staircase. He groans in response before reluctantly making his way toward her. As I watch him walk to the stairs, something else catches my eye. It feels impossible to look away from what's in front of me.

Avery, sitting on my mom's lap. She laughs as my mom grabs her arms and moves them in a rhythmic motion. Avery pulls her hands down, stuffing them onto her lap. My mom laughs, leaning over to press a kiss onto her cheek.

I can't seem to peel my eyes from the scene. The pain in my chest is impossible to ignore. I wish it didn't hurt.

It shouldn't hurt, not anymore.

"She's a great person. Your mom."

Ansley's voice tears me from my trance. I turn to her, caught off guard. I can't help but look back to the dinner table again, watching as my mom continues holding onto Avery's small hands in her own. I stare at the ear-to-ear smile on her face.

"She really cares about us. I can tell," she continues with a smile. "Especially Avery."

I fight back tears threatening to escape from my eyes. "Yeah, she does."

"It's nice, especially cause Avery's never had a mother figure," she explains. "My mom dipped right after she was born, said she couldn't handle more kids. My dad was... well, he was devastated. It took him a while to start dating again. Your mom's the first who's showed so much interest in not only him, but his family."

I nod along, not having much to say.

Tears prick my eyes, but I won't let them fall. I can't just start crying out of nowhere, not in front of all of Matthew's family.

"She's like— the one," she says. "If my dad doesn't marry her— I don't know. I can't really see us with anyone else anymore, you know? I don't think anyone could come close to what she's done for us."

"What she's done for you?" I ask.

She nods. "A couple of months after we met her, she took us to Japan. It was so fun. We got to see so much. My dad said we could go again soon, you should come this time. Ooh, and we have these nice family dinners every Friday. Sometimes my dad and Lily cook, but they also like to take us out to different restaurants every now and then, too."

I force a smile. "That sounds nice."

How stupid could I be?

I stopped believing my mom's constant business trips years ago. I accepted the fact that she only used it as an excuse to be anywhere but with me. But every now and then, it keeps me up at night. I toss and turn, wondering what I did to make her resent me as much as she does.

The thought of her traveling, seeing the world without me never crossed my mind. The thought of her having an entire new family never crossed my mind, either. I guess I really don't know her as well as I thought I did.

"You're so lucky to have someone like her, Estella." Ansley continues, sighing. "I would have killed to have someone like her raise me."

Stop. Stop talking.

"—criminal justice attorney, freaking smart as hell, kind, pretty. Like, damn, can we trade lives?" She laughs. "You can have my brother in exchange for your mom."

I swallow, furrowing my eyebrows. The smile on her face drops instantly once she sees me.

"I need to use the bathroom," I choke out.

I stand up from the couch and walk to the restroom. I shut the door, locking it. Once I look at myself in the mirror, tears start streaming down my face. I place a hand over my mouth, silencing my cries.

She's got a whole new life.

This is what she's been wanting for years. Her wish has been granted. Little by little, she has managed to scrap everything that was once part of her life. I'm the last of it.

And now she's scrapped me, too.

It would've hurt less if she was the person I thought she was. I'd already accepted that she didn't want anything to do with me. But I wish she was someone who wanted to be alone. No kids, no husband, no pets. No white-picket-fence family straight from the cover of a home magazine.

I let out a shaky breath. Both of my hands are placed on the edges of the vanity. It seems to be the only thing keeping me on my feet. Without it, I think I'd collapse onto the ground.

A knock on the door causes me to whip my head in its direction. I grab toilet paper, wiping it under my eyes at a sad attempt to make myself look somewhat presentable.

"Someone's in here," I call out, my voice cracking.

I turn on the faucet as I try to control my erratic breathing. I pump some soap, washing my hands before leaving the bathroom.

Anthony sends me a tight-lipped smile as he enters the bathroom. I turn, making my way toward the stairs instead of back to the living room. I don't have enough strength or patience to continue to listen to Ansley talking about her greatest idol.

Once I'm in the room, I shut the door and walk to the nightstand where my phone charges. I pick it up, immediately opening up my messages app. After typing the text to my mom with shaky hands, I toss my cell phone onto the bed.

Will you come upstairs please?

I take a seat on the edge of the bed, biting my nails as I wait for her response. I'm not exactly sure what I want to say to her. All I know is that I'm mad. Mad at her for treating me like trash she found on the street for my entire life but finding a brand new family that fits her needs better than her old one.

But more than that, I'm heartbroken.

How could she replace me so easily?

It feels like hours pass before she decides to come upstairs. I sit up a little straighter as I hear her footsteps closer and closer to the door of the room. She swings it open, standing right at the threshold.

"What do you need, Estella?" She asks.

I was wrong. Anger is the emotion that dominates. It takes over every inch of my body. But that's not all. There's something else coursing through my veins as I stare at her.

Hatred.

"I just wanted to talk to you, Mom."

She crosses her arms. "You're wasting my time. If you have something to—"

"How was Japan?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows in mock interest. "Fun, I bet."

She shakes her head, about to shut the door and walk back down the stairs. "I don't have time for this."

"And those Friday family dinners." I nod, ignoring her protests. "I bet those are real nice. Find any new restaurants?"

"I'm not dealing with this right now."

"No?" I counter. "What about Mocha? How's she doing? Learn any new tricks?"

The cold look in her eye turns even colder as the words leave my mouth. She closes the door, walking into the room at a slow, menacing pace. I almost lean backwards, wanting as much space between us as possible.

"We're not doing this right now." She repeats.

"It's almost funny." I smile, the gesture contradicting the tears in my eyes. "How many times I used to ask you for a puppy. Remember, Mom? I wanted a little yorkie, wanted to name her Princess." I sigh at the memory. "I wonder how many times Avery had to ask for one."

She scoffs. "Real mature of you, Estella. Comparing yourself to a five year-old. Grow up. For God's sake, you sound so immature."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Well, what's the difference between us, Mom?" I ask her curiously, still feeling the tears stream down my cheeks. "Besides the fact that I'm your biological daughter and she's your newest boy toy's?"

"You better watch your damn mouth."

She looks like she's ready to pounce. I know she wouldn't. She never has, but I wouldn't put it past her. Just not right now with everyone in the house.

I laugh humorlessly. "Explain it to me then! Why do you treat me like shit on the bottom of your shoe? What did I do to make you hate me so much that you can't stand being around me? What did I do for you to pretend like I don't exist? Why couldn't you take me to Japan with you and take me to Friday night dinners and give me the love you give them?"

I stare at her, somewhat proud of myself for being able to say everything without a single break in my voice.

"Tell me what I did wrong!" I exclaim.

"Lower your voice," she says slowly.

"You're right." I breathe, my eyes widening. "Can't have anyone finding out who you really are, huh?"

"Would you stop being so dramatic?" She asks, looking me up and down with a face I can only describe as one of disgust. "I'm surprised you can't understand why I don't like being around you since you know everything."

I swallow. "Tell me then. Tell me why, Mom. Tell me why all these years, you've done nothing but neglect me... Tell me why it's so easy for you to replace me."

She presses her lips together, blinking slowly before responding. "Because I never wanted you in the first place, Estella. You're just a reminder of everything I hated about my life."

My eyebrows furrow as she admits the reason she's never shown me any kind of affection since I was born. She continues, but her voice is drowned out.

She didn't want me.

"What?" I ask in a whisper.

Her expression remains neutral. Not a hint of any emotion in her eyes. "What I just said."

More tears build up in my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek, an attempt to refrain myself from crying. But it's no use. She's always known exactly how to hurt me, exactly what to say to shatter my heart to pieces.

Once again, I'm crumbling at my mother's feet. Every time I think I've gained the strength to finally feel unaffected by her words, I prove myself wrong.

"No more comebacks?" She asks lightly.

I shake my head, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my sweater. I can't even look her in the eyes. It's for the best that I don't see her unbothered expression.

"I want to go home," I whisper.

She scoffs. "And what are you going to say to Matthew's family?" She questions. "It's incredibly rude of you to leave now, Estella. You made the decision to come along with us and you're not changing your mind now."

I let out a shaky breath. "I don't care."

"You're not leaving."

"Yes, I am!" I yell, looking up to meet her eyes. They widen as she stares back at me as if I've said the most absurd thing she's ever heard. "Just get me a flight back and I'll be out of your hair, Mom. You won't have to worry about me ruining your stay with your brand new family anymore. No one to remind you of everything about your life that you hated."

I stand up from the bed and walk over to where my luggage sits on the floor. I stuff everything inside. She watches as I do so, witnessing her daughter go absolutely mad. She looks at me like I'm packing for a psych ward.

"Book me a flight!" I scream. "I can't— I cannot be here anymore."

"You need help, Estella. Real help."

I nod. "Get out your wallet and pay for a plane ticket back to California."

She doesn't move. I push my tongue against the inside of my cheek, staring up at her expectantly. Buying me a plane ticket back is the least she could do for me. I'll snatch her phone and do it myself if I have to.

Finally, she pulls her phone out from the pocket of her jeans. A few minutes later, my phone vibrates with a message from her. I open it, clicking on the link to view the confirmation for the plane ticket.

She walks out of the room. "I didn't want you here, anyway," she says before closing it behind her.