The atmosphere in the university graduation hall was heavier than the humid, oppressive summer heat. It was a cavernous space, filled with the scent of wilting flowers and the low, excited hum of thousands of families waiting for the ceremony to begin. This was supposed to be my day of honor—I, Anna, was the Valedictorian, the culmination of four years of sleepless nights, relentless study, and a fierce, burning ambition to prove my worth. But to my parents, my achievement was not a source of pride; it was a wasted opportunity, a resource to be plundered for the benefit of my sister.
My parents had always favored my younger sister, Maya. Maya was the pretty one, the charming one, the one who struggled academically but who effortlessly embodied the kind of superficial, social success they so desperately desired. I was the quiet one, the brilliant one, the one who brought home academic accolades that they treated like strange, useless trinkets.
Just before the ceremony was about to begin…