Part 3The World is a Circus, and I’m the Clown

The consequence was a three-day detention for disturbing the peace.

Three days later, Tiffany returned.

She demanded to move in, claiming she wanted to feel the "warmth of family" she had missed for years.

Dad, cold as ice: "Martha, prep a room."

Tiffany cried tears of joy.

"I knew you accepted me in your hearts! This is great. I’ll spend every day by your side from now on."

She shot me a glare and announced loudly:

"I’m going to make up for all the lost time!"

I turned my head, trying to keep a straight face.

Lost time?

Since I could remember, I woke up every day in a 10,000-square-foot mansion and ate breakfast at a dining table long enough to land a plane on.

The permanent residents were Martha, Alfred, Julian (on weekends), and the two Dobermans in the yard.

"Lonely, Rich, and Cold" was the tagline of my childhood.

As a teen, my favorite hobby was looking up at the sky at a 45-degree angle, embodying the "Main Character Syndrome" of a sad indie movie. My social media posts were all: Money can't buy love or If you know, you know.

This behavior stopped the year Julian took screenshots of my posts, blew them up into a PowerPoint presentation, and played them on loop during Christmas dinner.

I didn't want to relive that social death, so I shed a tear of sympathy for Tiffany.

Her dream was doomed.

However, my glamorous Mom was beaming, clapping her hands in excitement.

"That’s wonderful! I also want to make up for lost time! You’re so pretty, I’m going to dress you up like the most stunning princess!"

Stunning princess?

Hearing this, Julian and I synchronized a step backward.

We wanted to speak. We stopped.

But seeing Mom dragging Tiffany away with the excitement of a teenage girl...

Julian and I looked at each other.

We kept our mouths shut.

...

"I have so many couture gowns and no one to wear them! Finally, a model!"

"Mom, if you want, I’ll be your model forever."

"Really? Oh, you’re so sweet. I’m going to cry."

Tiffany was eating it up.

She glanced at me sideways.

"Mom, didn't you ever dress her up?"

"I guess not. Since she’s not biological, you guys weren't close..."

"It’s like those dogs in the yard. Only a real mother and child have that bond. Fakes can never be real!"

Tiffany was monologuing now.

"Look at how those dogs lean on each other. It’s a metaphor for our family..."

I couldn't help it. "Goldie and Shadow are both male."

Tiffany’s smile froze.

Me: "And they were neutered ten years ago."

Tiffany’s face went through the entire color spectrum.

But soon, she regained her smug expression.

Mom dragged her upstairs excitedly. Before she left, Tiffany shot me a victorious look.

She didn't notice the pity in my eyes.

Good luck, soldier.