Before the SAT exam, my stepmother took my sister to have plastic surgery

Belinda quickly helped Amy sign on her friend's company, turning their living room into a makeshift livestream studio.

When I walked in, I was greeted by the sight of Amy and Belinda, scantily clad, gyrating in front of the camera.

I clicked into the stream and saw there were actually quite a few viewers—three or four thousand online at once, with numerous people sending tips.

But the comments were almost all crude and vulgar. Amy cooed into the camera, "Thanks for the rocket, darling," as she danced even more provocatively.

Despite their heavy makeup, it was hard not to notice that Amy and Belinda's faces were becoming increasingly puffy and flushed.

When they finally turned off the stream and removed their makeup, it was even more apparent.

Their cheeks had noticeably swollen, and Amy gingerly touched her newly filled nose, asking Belinda, "Mom, my nose itches a bit inside. Is that normal?"

Belinda scratched her face, too, revealing some red bumps. She pulled out her phone and called a friend to check on the situation.

After hanging up, she reassured Amy with a relaxed demeanor, "Don't worry, sweetheart. It's normal. The hyaluronic acid just needs time to settle."

Her cheeks wobbled with each word, as if they might burst any second.

Amy scratched her own cheek and nodded, not saying anything more.

The two of them huddled around the phone, whispering. I overheard Belinda advising Amy, "That top spender's given you thousands already. Earning this money is so much easier than slogging through books."

Amy smiled and leaned against Belinda, "Yeah, Mom, I should have listened to you sooner.

"If only you were my blood mother. I wouldn't have had to go through so many struggles."

At that moment, I couldn't help but stand up abruptly. "Amy, you need to be mindful of what you say and what you don't."

Amy bristled, saying, "What's wrong with what I said? Honestly, if it weren't for our biological mother, I could have studied abroad by now.

"That spiteful woman, so bitter about her own poverty that she can't stand to see anyone else happy. It's disgusting."

She spoke bitterly about the past, recounting a time when a wealthy couple wanted to adopt her because they were unable to have children.

Everything was set for them to go abroad, but our mother couldn't bear to part with Amy and brought her back home, fearing she might suffer abroad.

I hadn't realized until now that Amy had held onto this resentment long after our mother's death.

It also explained why Amy always made excuses to avoid visiting our mother's grave each year.

I had thought she was genuinely busy, but it was clear now she had been harboring this grudge.

I once overheard a conversation between Owen and Belinda. Had it not been for our mother discovering their affair and confronting them in a fit of anger, she might not have fallen ill so quickly.

Belinda had called our mother a "hag" and even physically attacked her, which contributed to her rapid decline in health and eventual death.

When I revealed this to Amy, she didn't feel any sympathy for our mother; instead, she blamed our mother for being unable to keep Owen faithful.

Amy was practically idolizing Belinda.

She wrapped her arm around Belinda's, a gesture of fondness, and said, "This new mom of mine is amazing—never jealous, always thinking about how to make my life better. You just don't get it!"

Seeing Amy's smug expression, I tried to say again, "Hasn't Mom always been good to you?

"You wanted to learn dancing, and she didn't hesitate to pay thousands of dollars. Not a blink.

"When the school had that event and needed 20 thousand, she didn't ask any questions and paid."

I was about to continue, but Amy cut me off with irritation, shouting, "Shut up!

"She owed me! She deserves it. If she hadn't stopped me from going abroad, my life would have been so much easier!

"She just won't let anyone have peace, even in death. It's so damn annoying!"

I clenched my fists, feeling the urge to hit her right there.