Part 2The Scroll of Opinions

Greg Sterling was the only heir to the Sterling family. Spoiled since childhood, his personality was notoriously difficult. The moment I stepped through the Sterling mansion doors, Greg tossed a dog collar at me and ordered me to put it on and bark.

"Skylar, you only wanted to be adopted by my family because we're rich, didn't you?" His smile was malicious. "Bark once, I'll give you ten thousand. How about it?"

I obediently put on the collar. Under Greg's disdainful gaze, I slowly spoke: "Then you mustn't go back on your word, young master."

That day, I followed Greg, barking for a long time. So long, in fact, that Greg finally stopped me, his face filled with disgust. "Enough! Stop barking!"

I smiled at Greg. "Understood, Young Master. That's fifty-five thousand in total. How would you like to pay?" Greg impatiently threw a card at me. It contained sixty thousand.

At dinner, it was just Greg and me. The housekeeper had still prepared a table full of food. As I was about to sit down, Greg stopped me. "Who said you could eat at the table?" Greg pointed to a new dog bowl nearby. "You like barking like a dog, don't you? Then eat with the dog." The food in the dog bowl was piled into a messy heap, a stark contrast to the beautifully plated dishes on the table. But compared to the leftovers at the orphanage, it was infinitely better. I ate heartily from the dog bowl.

Just then, I saw my sister's new social media post. It was a photo of her and her adoptive mother before dinner. On the simple round table sat a plate of bean sprouts and two bowls of rice. The caption read: "Though simple, it's very happy." After seeing it, the organic vegetables in my dog bowl tasted even better.

Before bed, Greg claimed the room Mrs. Sterling had prepared for me, telling me to sleep with the dog. I looked at the 30-square-foot wooden cabin in the yard, hugged my blanket, and crawled inside. The German Shepherd was well-behaved. Seeing me, he shrank to the side, making plenty of room. It was much more spacious than the orphanage's communal sleeping arrangements. I couldn't help but sigh. At fifteen, I finally had a single room. It felt good.