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Starved by My Mother The Sister She Chose Over Me Novel Cover

Starved by My Mother The Sister She Chose Over Me

Controlled by her mother's strict rule that cash corrupts students, a college student is left with nothing but a campus meal card, even trading milk cartons for medicine. She believes it is tough love—until she finds the transaction history on her sister Patricia's phone. While she was berated for requesting a hundred dollars for basic fruit, her sister received over three thousand dollars a month for luxury. Armed with screenshots, she leaks the truth to the entire family chat.
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Chapter 2

I stood on the dormitory balcony, phone in hand. The winter wind cut across my face like a blade, but it was nothing compared to the cold settling inside my chest.

My phone buzzed again.

This time, it was a WhatsApp message from Patricia Fox.

"Hey sis, what are you doing? Is it really worth making Mom angry over a little bit of money?"

"She's so upset her chest hurts now. Just apologize in the group chat and say you were joking around with photoshop. Otherwise Mom's seriously going to cancel your meal card."

Looking at that smug, self-satisfied tone, I trembled with rage.

A "little bit of money." Three thousand dollars a month was pocket change to her. To me, it was two years of living expenses.

I blocked her on WhatsApp, then sent a second message in the family group chat.

"Since art school is supposedly so expensive, why don't you post some receipts? What kind of art class costs $3,000 a month? Or is this 'art' being studied at nightclubs and karaoke bars?"

The moment I hit send, my mother called again.

"Clementine! Have you lost your mind?! Are you not going to stop until you've torn this family apart?!"

Her voice was thick with fury.

"I just want things to be fair."

My voice shook, but my grip on the phone was iron. "Why does Patty get three thousand in cash every month while I'm stuck scraping by on a meal card? I'm your daughter too!"

"You think you can compare yourself to your sister?!" Mom screamed, utterly righteous in her conviction. "Your sister is going to marry into a good family someday. She needs to keep up appearances! And you? Look at yourself, that pathetic little penny-pincher. Giving you money would be a waste! How dare you go through my accounts? I raised you, I put money on your meal card so you wouldn't starve, and you should be on your knees thanking me for that!"

"Penny-pincher? Pathetic?" I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that scraped my throat. Tears burned at the edges of my eyes. "Yeah, I'm pathetic. So pathetic I have to beg people to trade cash for meal card swipes just to buy a pack of pads. Mom, even favoritism should have a limit!"

"Shut your mouth! If you dare drag your sister's name through the mud out there, don't bother coming home. You can die out there for all I care!"

"Fine. Then I won't come back."

I didn't wait for another word. I hung up and added her number to my block list.

The moment the call ended, my stomach growled.

I hadn't eaten all day. I wiped my eyes, grabbed my meal card, and headed to the cafeteria.

It was the dinner rush. Long lines snaked from every counter.

I waited my turn, finally reaching the front, and ordered the cheapest thing on the menu: a vegetable platter. Five dollars.

Beeeep—

The card reader let out a long, shrill tone. The red light flashed.

I froze. Swiped again.

Beeeep—

"Honey, stop swiping. It's showing as reported lost." The woman behind the counter rapped her knuckles against the window, impatient. "There's a whole line behind you."

"That's impossible. The card's right here in my hand—" Panic clawed up my throat.

"It's been reported lost. The admin office got a call about it this afternoon." The woman frowned at me, then seemed to remember something. "Oh, right. Your parent called and said the card was missing. Asked to have it frozen. Said they were worried someone else might pick it up and use it."

A roar of white noise filled my skull.

Who else could it have been but my mother?

She didn't even need me present. One phone call was all it took to cut off my only lifeline from hundreds of miles away.

Behind me, the students in line started grumbling. "Hurry it up. If you don't have money, don't come to eat."

"What's she playing at? Card's probably empty."

Those whispered comments landed like slaps across my face.

Heat flooded my cheeks. Surrounded by looks of disdain and irritation, I ducked my head and fled the cafeteria.

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