Chapter 1 Where do I belong?

Leona‘s Pov Tomorrow is my sixteenth birthday. I’ve always loved birthdays—it’s the one day I actually feel myself growing older, inch by inch. I like that feeling. It makes me feel real. I stare at the moon through the window. A shadow crosses it, shaped like a running wolf. Wild. Free. Lonely, too. I hear my mom’s footsteps in the hallway. I don’t move. I don’t turn. I pretend to be asleep. For the past month, she’s been watching me too closely. At first, I’m happy. Finally—she sees me again, not just Lia, my little sister born six years after me. But there’s something off. Her gaze isn’t love. It’s caution. Fear, maybe. Every night, she opens my door three times—slowly, carefully, like she’s afraid to wake me. Once, I kick off my blanket on purpose, just to see. She doesn’t tuck me in like she used to. She just leaves. In a hurry. But it didn’t use to be like this. In the past, Mom would only gently pull the blanket over me and leave a kiss on my forehead. When did it start to change? Was it after Lia was born? Yet lately, it’s become even more extreme. I yank the blanket over my head. Another strange dream— I am lost, running through a dense forest, with a massive moon hanging above me the entire time... The next morning, I drag myself to the door, eyes red and bloodshot. “Mom, I’m going to school,” I mumble. She freezes. Truly startled. “Oh God… what happened to your eyes?” “Let me see!” Lia skips over, bright and childish. But Mom jumps in front of her—instinctively—a shield between us. For a split second, the way she looks at me… I don’t know how to describe it, but for a split second, the look in her eyes made me feel like I was a monster. No one notice the tears until they’re already there, hot and shameful. What is happening to us? Mom quickly straightens her face and turns away. “This is not the time to play, Lia. Your sister’s going to be late.” It’s the first time she’s ever scolded Lia like that. And I know—with a clarity that stings—it isn’t for me. She just doesn’t want Lia near the monster. I run out of the house, head down, chest tight, barely breathing, and start toward school. On the bus, I catch my reflection in the window. My eyes, still swollen and red, look worse. I pull my hood over my head, long blonde hair falls like dry straw, hiding most of my face. It gives me a little safety. Because I know what’s coming. “Look who it is—our rising star,” someone calls. “So, are you gonna teach us today? How you evolved from a monkey into… whatever this is?” I’m not popular at school either. Everyone thinks I’m addicted to schoolwork. Usually, I stay silent at times like this. But today, before I even realize it, a hot wave of anger surges up my spine. I’m on my feet, right in front of Steve. “What did you just say?” His face turns red. His breathing sharpens. The guys around us stare, wide-eyed. Then I finally understand why. I’m holding him. Off the ground. By his collar. With one hand. His legs dangle, kicking the air. He weighs nothing. Like a doll. I drop him. Panic—cold and sharp—hits me. My chest seizes. I slam the stop button and bolt off the bus. Cold wind slaps my ears as I run. When the bus stops at a red light beside me, I see faces pressed to the windows—staring at me like I’m not human. I only then realized—I had actually outrun the bus. I lowered my head and looked at the hand Steve had just scratched. The wound already seemed to be healing. Breathe. Just breathe. Maybe there’s a limit to how much emotion a person can take. And maybe I just broke mine or adrenaline messing with me. I tried to comfort myself blindly, clinging to the thought that if even I couldn’t accept myself, then who in this world ever would? When I reach school, Mom is already there—standing with my teacher, whispering nervously. When the teacher spots me, she doesn’t scold me. She smiles. It’s the first smile I’ve seen all day. “Don’t worry, Leona,” she says gently. “I know moving up to high school can be stressful. But you still need to get along with your classmates, alright?” I stare into her warm, honest eyes and nod, throat too tight for words. “I’m sorry, Mama. I won’t do anything like that again.” She pats my hair. “Great! Oh, and—happy birthday!” “What?” Mom and I say at the same time. “It’s in your file,” the teacher says. “Today’s your birthday.” This time, my mother doesn’t hide it—her tension, her panic. Yes. I wasn’t mistaken. She forgot. My birthday. It’s never happened before. For fifteen years, there were no grand parties, no glittering candles—but there were photo albums, home videos, quiet dinners filled with warmth. Even after Lia was born, my birthdays became simpler, but never erased. But my sixteenth—the one that was supposed to matter—was erased. I walk behind her, head down, swallowing every tremor in my chest. I won’t cry. I won’t be that abandoned little dog. Maybe… they were just busy, Lia needed them more. Maybe—they were planning a surprise for me. But life offers no miracles. That evening, Mom prepares a big dinner. But it’s only that—abundance, nothing more. No candles. No surprise. Only the desperate compensation of someone who realizes too late. “Your father went to bu…—no, to pick up the cake we ordered,” she says. “Happy birthday, Leona! You’re my favorite sister!” Lia jumps into my arms, planting a wet, cheesy kiss on my cheek. She still tastes like cream. I kiss her forehead. Whisper, “Thanks.” Half an hour later, Dad comes back with a chocolate cake. I look at the stiff icing lines, at their strained, frozen smiles, and force the corners of my mouth up. It feels like a crack in my face. Only Lia looks truly happy, eyes sparkling at the cake, beaming at me with a love I suddenly feel utterly unworthy of. For a long time, I blamed her for the way my parents changed toward me. But now… maybe the problem was only me. Maybe this strange, angry thing growing inside me is poisoning everything it touches. That night, I fall asleep staring at the moon again. It hangs heavy, faintly red, like an unspoken omen—and my chest tightens with restlessness. My dreams burn hot and restless. I smell pine needles and damp earth, sensations unknown in waking life. A low growl rumbles in my chest—mine, yet not mine—a sound terrifying, yet almost… familiar. Something that belongs to me, long hidden. Just when I feel something inside me break free—a real, intense part I can no longer cage— A scream. Sharp. Real. It tears through the dream, dragging me back to a world that suddenly feels dull and unreal. My eyes snap open. My heart hammers. A door slams. Something crashes—a table, maybe. It’s 12:13 AM. What happened? “Call emergency! Lia’s unconscious!” Mom’s voice, frantic, laced with terror I’ve never heard before. I fling myself out of bed, limbs clumsy with sleep and fear, and sprint to the glowing living room. Lia’s pale, limp body hangs over Dad’s shoulder. So small. So fragile. My heart twists violently. I can’t breathe. It feels like my soul is being ripped in two. Only three hours ago, she was smiling at me like an angel. I had only just realized how much love I’ve been ignoring. And now— Why does she look lifeless? I freeze in the stairwell, too drained, too horrified to move. Mom glances at me. Just one look—but I see too much. Fear, yes. But also a dawning, devastating accusation. And I recognize one truth, icy and undeniable: Lia’s condition… has something to do with me. What did I do? Under that gaze, I can’t see myself as part of them. I don’t follow the ambulance like family should. I just stare at the sinking moon and the rising sun. Morning light stabs my dry eyes. I feel hollowed out, like a zombie, as I sling my backpack over my shoulder and step outside. But instead of heading to school, my body betrays me. My feet turn. They carry me toward the hospital, pulled by a dread I cannot name. I hear Mom’s voice, sharp and cold, slice through the quiet. “Will Leona really become a problem?” Her words—so familiar, yet piercing like a dagger—stab straight through me. Dad’s voice is heavy, tired. “Her condition already says something. We can’t…” “Oh God, what am I even saying… She—she’s also my daughter…” Mom’s voice trembles, thick with tears. Dad exhales, exhaustion weighing every word. “No, no, honey. I know this isn’t your fault. You’ve done enough. Lia is still so young—she’s our real daughter. Maybe… maybe our luck just isn’t enough to let us stay Leona’s parents forever. She… she should go back to the place she belongs…” After that, I can’t hear anything else. Their voices fade into white noise. “She’s our real daughter.” She? Lia? How about me? Why are they drawing a line between me and Lia? Aren’t I their biological daughter? Everything that happened yesterday flashes through my mind like lightning. And suddenly, even everything before that starts to make sense. The way they stopped looking at me after Lia was born. Mom’s gaze on me—never warmth, only watchfulness. The birthdays they forgot… All of it… Only because I was never truly part of this family. That’s why Dad said, “Let her return to where she belongs.” But if I’m not their child— Then who am I? Where do I belong?