After He Cast Me Out, I Ruled My Own World

I was ten when the Jones family took me in. Andrew Jones was a year older than me. He'd call me a headache, but he still gave me the best room in the house. Relatives would whisper that I was just extra baggage. Andrew would slam his forks down on the spot and say, "She lives under our roof, so she's family. It's not for you to decide." Back then, I really believed Andrew would have my back forever. Then senior year came, and the Jones family started sponsoring a girl. Her name was Grace. She was smart, charming, and the very first day she stepped through the door, she was already sweet-talking Andrew, calling him "brother." I stood on the stairs and heard Andrew say impatiently, "I'm not your brother. I only have one sister." Grace didn't get upset at all. She just smiled and asked, "So if I work hard enough, maybe I could be your sister too?" Andrew let out a short scoff. "Not a chance." But after that, Grace would always fight to serve him food, wear his jacket, and knock on his room door with homework questions she didn't know how to do. At first, Andrew would shut the door. Slowly, he started letting her in. One night at dinner, Grace snagged the last shrimp off the plate. The one Andrew always used to save for me. She took a bite and looked at me with a smile. "You don't mind, do you? It's not like Andrew said it was yours." Andrew glanced my way. "It's just a shrimp. Don't be so petty." I froze, my fork hanging mid-air. Grace grinned, her eyes curling up. "It looks like Tara is about to cry." All the relatives turned to look at me. Back then, if anyone dared to make me feel small, Andrew would protect me with a cold face. But this time, he just put his bowl down, his voice heavy with annoyance. "Tara, can you stop expecting the whole family to baby you? You're not a kid anymore." I stared at him, my throat tightening like it was stuffed with cotton. It turned out that someone new hadn't just joined the family. My place had already been taken and moved away. That night, Mr. Jones asked me, "Tara, we got in touch with your birth parents. Do you want to go back and visit them?" I looked down at the name on the birth certificate that didn't belong to the Jones family. I whispered, "Yes. I won't live here anymore." Mr. Jones fell silent for a long time. Mrs. Jones came out of the kitchen, still holding a plate of freshly cut fruit. Hearing my words, the smile on her face froze. "Tara, what did you say?" I fought back the tears that were about to fall. "I want to go back to my birth parents' house." The living room went dead quiet. Upstairs, the sound of a bedroom door being pulled open echoed through the house. I looked up. Andrew stood on the second floor in his black loungewear, his hair still damp. He heard everything. But he just glanced down at me. That glance was so indifferent. It was as if he thought I was just throwing another tantrum. Very quickly, he turned around and went back into his room. The door clicked softly shut. Mrs. Jones's eyes reddened. "Were you treated unfairly at dinner? Grace just got here and doesn't know how things work, and Andrew just has a bad mouth. I'll talk to them tomorrow." I shook my head. "It's not because of a shrimp." Mr. Jones placed the birth certificate in front of me. "Your birth parents live in Lincoln. They've been looking for you all these years. You got lost when you were little. It wasn't that they didn't want you." I stared at my name written alone on that document. Tara Smith. Not Tara Jones. I was not a member of the Jones family either. I was ten when I first came to the Jones house. A relative had pointed at me and said, "It's sad the kid's got no one, but raising someone else's child? Sooner or later, you're just raising an ungrateful brat." Andrew was only eleven then. He slammed his fork on the table, his voice unwavering. "She lives under my roof, so she's family." I held onto those words for eight years. Relying on those exact words, I had lived cautiously in the Jones family for eight years. Mrs. Jones took my hand. "Tara, don't rush into a decision, okay? If you really want to see them, I'll go with you." I said softly, "Mrs. Jones, I've made up my mind." Mr. Jones looked at me for a long time. Finally, he sighed, "Fine. I'll contact them tomorrow." I said, "Don't tell Andrew about this for now." Mrs. Jones was stunned. I curled the corners of my mouth into a weak smile. "He probably doesn't want to deal with my stuff anyway." The next morning when I came downstairs, Andrew was sitting at the dining table. Grace sat next to him, wearing his gray jacket. There was a tiny loose thread on the sleeve of that jacket, one I had sewed for him when I was a freshman. When she saw me, she smiled sweetly. "Morning, Tara." Andrew pushed a glass of warm milk toward my usual spot. "Come eat. The driver is waiting." I didn't walk over. "I'll go to school by myself today." Andrew frowned. "What are you throwing a tantrum for now?" Grace bit into her toast and whispered, "Is Tara still mad at me? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have eaten that shrimp last night." Andrew's face turned cold. "Tara, that's enough." I looked at him. Back then, he hated it most when people made me apologize. Now, he seemed to be constantly waiting for me to bow my head. I slung my backpack over my shoulder. "You two eat." At the entrance, Andrew chased after me and grabbed my wrist. "I'm talking to you. Didn't you hear me?" I pulled free from him. "I heard you." "Then what's with that attitude?" As he spoke, he habitually reached out and pulled my scarf up a bit. The movement was completely practiced. I froze. He hesitated for a second too. The next second, Grace called out from the dining room, "Andrew, I can't find my math test." Andrew let go of me instantly. "Wait there." I watched his retreating back. He still remembered that I got cold easily. But he also remembered exactly where Grace's test was placed. I suddenly found it all so laughable. "Andrew." He turned back. I said, "You don't have to worry about me anymore." He let out a cold laugh. "Sure. If you have the guts, stick to your word." I nodded. "Okay."