My parents kicked me out when I was twelve because of my grades and told me never to return. Years later, they mocked me outside my own company, still calling me useless. Then I looked at them and said, “Your precious daughter? Fired.”

My younger sister, Rachel.

The golden child.

The daughter they kept.

My father smirked at my suit. “Fancy clothes don’t cover up your worthlessness.”

Several nearby employees instantly looked uncomfortable.

Rachel crossed her arms with pride. “Dad told us you somehow work here.”

I almost smiled.

Somehow.

Interesting choice of word.

Then Rachel added proudly, “Actually, I’m here for my promotion interview.”