Everyone gasped as the sound of shattered glass echoed through the house.
The plate slipped from my hand or maybe I threw it. I don't even remember. It hit the marble floor and exploded into pieces, just like my patience.
"You!" One of my half-sisters stepped forward and slapped me hard across the face.
The sound was sharp. My cheek burned instantly, a red handprint forming under her palm.
But I didn't turn my head.
I didn't move.
Tears slid down silently instead.
"I've had enough!" I shouted, my voice shaking but loud. "It's always my fault in this house! Every single thing I do is wrong. Every move I make is wrong!"
I pointed at them,my mother, my two older half-sisters, and their father.
They stood together.
United.
Complete.
And me?
I was the extra piece. The unnecessary one.
They are a family. A real one. The original one.
And I am just… what? A mistake that came in between?
Mom met my dad when they were both broken. A year later, she found her way back to her first love. They reconciled. They rebuilt their family.
Their family.
Where did that leave me?
"I don't belong here!" I screamed before storming into my room and pulling my suitcase from under the bed.
I barely noticed my mother following me.
"You are so disrespectful, Aria!" she snapped. "How dare you shout at your sisters like that?"
I laughed bitterly.
"Disrespectful? I'm defending myself, Mom. For once. Or is that not allowed here?"
"You broke a plate over nothing!"
"Nothing?" I turned to face her fully. "You let them blame me for everything. You let them talk to me like I'm some stranger living in your house."
"Because you act like one!" my older sister shouted from the hallway.
That hurt more than the slap.
"I act like one?" I whispered. "Maybe because you treat me like one."
Silence filled the room.
My mom's jaw tightened. "They were just disciplining you," she said.
"I get it. And I know you see how much I obey. I do well in school. I clean the house. I stay out of trouble," I said, listing everything I've done in this house.
"I stayed home alone when all of you went out to dinner and vacations like a perfect family. You never heard a single bad word from me about that."
I wiped my tears angrily. I was crying. I was sobbing. I was tired.
"But why am I still the wrong one here, Mom? Why do you always let them blame me for everything? Is saying what I truly feel wrong now?"
I thought seeing me like that,breaking down would make them understand.
But I was wrong.
They scoffed instead.
"Stop being dramatic, Aria," Hannah said coldly.
"You're acting like you've been abused for years. It's just a small fight," Olivia added, making me laugh in disbelief.
"Dramatic?" I said quietly.
So calm.
"I don't even know why I bothered, Mom, when I know you'll clearly take their side. They're your first family. And you still feel guilty for the years you were away from them."
"Dramatic?" I repeated softly.
"You know what? Maybe I am."
I zipped my suitcase shut.
"But at least I'm honest."
I grabbed my bag and walked past them.
None of them stopped me.
That hurt the most.
I let my tears fall as I walked out of my mom's house. I love her. I really do. But this time, I finally understood ,I was just an extra piece in her life.
When I stepped onto the busy street, the noise of passing cars surrounded me. I dragged my suitcase along the sidewalk, enduring the heaviness.
"Miss, do you need a ride?" a taxi driver asked.
I shook my head. I had no money. Not even a cent.
My destination was my father's house. Since I had no money, I had no choice but to walk — even if it took miles.
It took me almost three hours.
After nearly three hours of walking, I was exhausted. My clothes were damp with sweat. My hair clung to my face as if I had been caught in the rain. But I forced myself to keep going until I finally reached my dad's house.
Knock. Knock.
I knocked on the gate.
Silence.
I knocked again.
This time, I heard footsteps. The door opened.
It wasn't my dad.
"Aria?" A woman stood there with her hair in a messy bun, wearing a simple dress, a baby in her arms.
She looked inside the house. "Arthur? Your daughter is here."
Dad immediately came out of the bedroom and approached us.
"Aria?" He looked me up and down. "What happened?"
"I… got into a fight with Mom."
"Come inside first," the woman said gently.
I took off my shoes and sat on the sofa.
She's Yula, my dad's new wife. The baby in her arms is my half-brother.
Both of my parents have their own families now.
I'm just an extra in both.
"You're wet, Aria. You should change your clothes first," Auntie Yula said kindly.
I changed in the bathroom and came back to see juice and snacks prepared on the table.
"You walked all the way here?" Dad asked.
"Yes. I didn't have any money."
His eyes dropped to my suitcase.
"What's that?"
"My things. I'm not staying there anymore."
I paused.
"I don't belong there. And I know… I don't belong here either."
Silence filled the room.
"Aria…" Dad slowly held my hand. "It's not that I'm pushing you away. It's just… I have my own family now too."
I smiled.
Not sweet.
Not forced.
Just empty.
"Things are different now," he added.
I looked at him. At Auntie Yula. At the baby in her arms.
That was enough.
"I understand," I said softly.
He didn't tell me to stay.
He didn't tell me to go either.
And somehow, that was worse.
"I'll go to Grandma," I added. "Don't worry. I won't be a burden."
His hand tightened around mine for a second.
But he still let go.
And that was the answer I needed.
Just like Mom… he wouldn't choose me either.
And that was when I finally stopped hoping they would.
⸻
After that conversation, I decided not to stay.
"Do you need anything before you go?" Dad asked.
I stayed silent. I didn't want to ask for anything.
But I had no money.
"I… don't have any money," I admitted quietly.
Dad looked at Auntie Yula. She nodded at him with a small smile.
He handed me enough for travel expenses and a little extra.
"Thank you," I whispered.
I grabbed my suitcase and walked toward the door.
Before I stepped out, Dad spoke again.
"Don't you want to say goodbye to your brother?"
I glanced at the baby in Auntie Yula's arms.
He was cute.
But I was hurting.
"No," I said softly, and walked out.
Maybe I was being cruel.
But right now, I was just in pain.
The only person who would accept me without question was my Nana.
My grandmother, Dolores.