I turned them down flat.
“I have papers to finish and standing commissions to deliver. My schedule is full. I don’t have the energy to do Tessa’s homework or draw her designs for her.”
I’d been selling my designs cheap for so long.
Until — I watched Tessa use my work to knock on the door of the werewolf royal family.
That was when I understood my worth.
For six months, I’d designed like a madwoman, and my prices kept climbing.
My refusal tore through their fake warmth in an instant.
Dad’s face went dark, and he hauled out the “we raised you” card.
“We raised you for twenty years, worked our fingers to the bone so you could study and grow up. You get into Stanford, and now you’re too big for your britches — you won’t even help your own sister? You’re cold-blooded, selfish, ungrateful!”
Mom’s eyes turned sharp, and she went straight for my deepest insecurity.
“Ugliness on the outside is nothing. An ugly, selfish heart is the real horror. With that mouthful of buck teeth and a mean, narrow soul that won’t even care for her own blood, no one will ever truly love you in this life.”
I didn’t care.
I was used to it.
My family didn’t love me.
But I loved myself.
Tessa stood off to the side, a mocking smile on her lips.
“Even if you save up the money to fix your teeth and get pretty, the meanness and selfishness in your bones won’t change. You’ll always be dark and insecure. You’ll never hold a candle to the bright, perfect me.”
The abuse came at me in waves.
I didn’t shed a tear. I just grabbed my backpack and walked out of that suffocating house.
They’d never know that in the past two months, I’d taken on steady commissions and tutoring classes, earning a solid, reliable income — I’d already saved the full twenty-eight thousand for my treatment.
I skipped Mom’s clinic entirely, booked myself into a different oral surgery clinic, and scheduled my jaw surgery and orthodontic treatment a month out.
From now on, I wouldn’t rely on my mother’s favor, my family’s money, or anyone’s goodwill.
I’d spend my own money to heal fifteen years of shame.
After I walked out, I blocked all three of their numbers and muted every mindlink they could send.
And while I was at it, I went to the Elders Council and severed every tie.
In the days that followed, Mom and Dad took turns harassing me from unknown numbers.
Tessa kept updating her social media — brand-new professional art supplies, new clothes, new jewelry — with captions that took little digs at me, painting me as broke, friendless, and venomous.
I swiped past all of it. I refused to waste my energy on their words anymore.
I focused on class and worked hard at my jobs.
I stocked up on liquid food for after the surgery and anti-inflammatory meds, and waited calmly for my procedure.
I waited for the day I could finally smile without shame and leave the girl who’d always lived in Tessa’s shadow behind.
A month later, the surgery went ahead as scheduled.
It lasted three hours.
Afterward, my whole jaw was swollen and bruised, and the wounds on my gums throbbed with pain.
The doctor made me wear a compression band around my jaw for two weeks to bring down the swelling and stop the bleeding.
For those two weeks, I could only eat liquids and talk in a slurred, effortful mumble.
Most of my face was wrapped in bandages. Out on the street, every glance that landed on me was hot with curiosity, followed by whispers.
But I didn’t care.
Because I knew this was the road every ugly duckling had to walk to become a swan.
Then, ten days in, the dorm manager called.
“Elise, a middle-aged couple downstairs says they’re your parents. They insist on coming up to see you. We couldn’t stop them, so we’ve called security.”
My heart stuttered, and my first instinct was to hide what I looked like.
But it was too late.
A few minutes later, Mom and Dad hurried to my dorm door and pushed it open.
They looked up, and saw my entire face wrapped in white bandages.