Chapter 3

The pain in my hands was nothing compared to the agony in my heart.

My dad, who once treated me, covered in blood, like a plague, could now spend six months with my sister, who had the same disease, seeking treatment.

And Mom, who claimed to have hemophobia and couldn't stand being with me for more than a week, how could she now look at my sister's blood and not faint?

Not to mention my "kind" sister.

She had firsthand experience of how painful Butterfly Disease was, yet in those six months, she never once thought to look for me.

While she enjoyed expensive, specialized treatments, I was still foolishly believing our family had abandoned me out of poverty.

My sister was startled by my appearance, unsure what I'd said to upset me this time:

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

【Oh my god, is she having an emotional breakdown because the heiress mentioned family?】

【Didn't she ask the question herself? Her parents weren't even mentioned. If she's so fragile, why even stream?】

【If I were her family, I couldn't handle it either. Clearly, not everyone can be as strong and optimistic as the heiress, truly deserving of her family's love.】

Reading those comments, I almost laughed until I cried.

If they knew the "heiress" and I shared the same parents, would they still say such things?

Hearing his daughter was upset during her stream, my dad rushed over.

He looked at me, my face covered in bandages, with eyes full of disgust:

"My daughter was kind enough to help you, and this is how you repay her?

And you dare to say Jocelyn is like your sister? Nowadays, any random person thinks they can just lay claim to my daughter, Jocelyn Hayes. Don't you look in the mirror? Do you even deserve to?"

My heart felt numb with pain.

My sister only said she wanted to help, and he blindly accused me of ingratitude.

In his heart, only Jocelyn was worthy of being his daughter.

I'd always known about my dad's unconditional favoritism towards Jocelyn.

It was because she looked so much like him.

I, on the other hand, didn't resemble either of my parents much, and he'd even doubted if I was his biological child.

Despite DNA test results proving I was his daughter, having inherited my grandfather's looks, my dad still harbored a strange distance.

I guessed that's why he concealed our billionaire status, using a facade of poverty to "test" me.

If it made me more outstanding, great.

If not, he could just keep the truth hidden forever, letting me live my life never knowing my family was a billionaire empire.

The result of this "test" was that no matter how hard I tried, I could never satisfy my strict dad. Then, my skin suddenly started tearing and bleeding for no reason.

At the hospital, I found out I carried the Butterfly Disease gene.

It gave my dad a legitimate reason to abandon me.

Even though he hadn't recognized me, it was as if he had an instinctive aversion to me, each word more hurtful than the last.

My sister tried to persuade my dad not to be so mean to me, but he sighed:

"Jocelyn, not everyone is worth helping.

This ghastly, monstrous creature, who streams all day to scare people, would be better off dead.

You tried to help her out of kindness, and look at her attitude! Today, I'm going to make her realize the cost of messing with my daughter!"

My eyes burned, but no more tears would fall.

The wounds beneath my bandages ached from the moisture, blood almost staining half my face, which only fueled my dad's disgust.

"A dishonorable streamer like you, I'll make sure the platform bans you completely!"

Hearing my dad's final verdict, despair washed over me.

I knew my dad meant what he said; he would definitely get me banned.

But live-streaming my art was my only means of survival. He was trying to push me to my death.

Could it be that after enduring alone for so long, I still wouldn't make it?