Living My Sister’s Life for Revenge

Stacy never told Pat she had a sister. The fewer people who knew about Macey's work and identity, the fewer problems it would bring. But the truth was, Pat never asked about her family. In his mind, Stacy had always been nothing more than a wild girl from a poor, remote village.

As Stacy watched his retreating figure, a glimmer of hope flickered. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance.

Back then, Macey had returned to America, gravely ill. Stacy hoped Pat could help connect her with a skilled doctor in Canada. But on her way to meet him, she was involved in a car accident. She remained unconscious in the hospital for three days, and by the time she woke up, Macey was gone, leaving only a note behind.

Despite her failing health, Macey had rushed back to continue her experiments, ignoring Stacy's pleas. When the illness finally caught up to her, it was too late—she was diagnosed with advanced cancer, beyond the reach of effective treatment.

Stacy had sent a desperate text to Pat, but his reply came weeks later. By then, everything had changed.

She had once seen Pat outside his company, separated from him by just a single street. She ran to him, hoping for even a shred of acknowledgment, but he drove away without looking back. If only he had cared a little more… would things have turned out differently?

The memory brought a pang of regret. Stacy couldn't forgive herself. The accident had hurt more than just her and Macey; it had shattered what little hope she had left.

Now, standing amidst the aftermath, Stacy no longer blamed Pat. The fault was hers for putting her faith in him, for trusting a man to fix what was broken. She swore she would never make that mistake again.

When they arrived at Taylor’s restaurant, Stacy noticed Jeanie Hoover, the nanny, waiting at the door. She was gently pushing Tara’s wheelchair.

Pat seemed restless. The moment he turned off the car, he urged Stacy to get out quickly. He walked over to Tara and knelt in front of her, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

The pale girl in the wheelchair smiled weakly, but even speaking a few words left her coughing. Against the bitter wind, she looked even more fragile.

"Tara, it’s freezing out here. Who told you to come outside?" Pat’s sharp gaze landed on Jeanie, who flinched under his scrutiny, unsure of how to respond.

Despite the reprimand, Tara’s eyes sparkled with joy. Her voice was gentle as she held Pat’s hand. "Pat, I’m not as weak as you think. I heard you’d be back today, so I came to welcome you."

Pat’s expression softened, the tension in his shoulders melting away. He brushed her hair fondly and pushed her wheelchair inside.

Jeanie lingered, looking uncertain. Stacy placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders and offered her a kind smile.

"Miss Elder, I’ve made some pork rib soup for you. You should drink more later," Jeanie said, her voice warm.

Stacy returned her smile sincerely. Among the Taylor household, Jeanie was the only one who offered her any kindness.

But once inside, reality quickly set in.

Jeanie hurried to the kitchen, emerging moments later with Stacy’s favorite dishes. Just as she was about to invite Stacy to eat, a sharp voice rang out.

"Jeanie, whose servant are you?"

Anna Taylor, mother of Pat, descended the staircase, her tone icy and full of disdain. Stacy wasn’t surprised—she was used to such veiled insults.

Across the room, the figure on the sofa turned toward the commotion. Pat remained silent, but Tara spoke up in a soothing tone.

"Aunt, Stacy is a guest. It’s only natural for Jeanie to take care of her. Don’t be upset."

Stacy nearly laughed at Tara’s words. Her so-called kindness was misplaced. In Anna’s eyes, Stacy wasn’t even worth as much as her prized pets.

Back when Alfonso Taylor was alive, Anna pretended to be polite to Stacy. But after his passing, her true colors surfaced. She immediately drove Stacy out and brought Tara, her beloved niece, into the Taylor household, lavishing her with care.

Anna often sang Tara’s praises in front of Stacy. She would recount how Tara’s goodness had won over even Alfonso Taylor. Yet Stacy knew the truth—Alfonso Taylor had reluctantly agreed to accept Tara only after Stacy spoke on her behalf.

And now, that loyalty had left Stacy with nothing but resentment and regret.