“Darling, take little Sophie with you to the seaside,” Mum begged her eldest daughter, Victoria, to bring her younger sister along on the trip.

“Mum, your Sophie is far too spoilt and cheeky. Besides, I’m going with my husband—why would I need another woman tagging along?” Victoria snapped.

“Oh, come on, you’re sisters. You’re the elder one, you should look after her.”

*”Have your nanny first, then the baby.”* Victoria had hated that saying her entire life.

Well, not quite her *entire* life. The first ten years had been perfect—her parents adored her, spoiled her, gave her all their attention. Then, suddenly, everything changed. Even as an adult, Victoria couldn’t say for certain what had happened between her parents, but one day, Dad hugged her tightly and left with a suitcase. The reason was never explained, though Victoria suspected he might have had an affair. He was handsome, always travelling for work—who knows? But back then, it had all felt like a nightmare she desperately wanted to wake from.

Mum sobbed behind locked bathroom doors, barely noticing her daughter. A month later, Dad stormed back in as if on wings and swept Mum into his arms, spinning her around and kissing her belly. That was how Victoria learned she’d soon be a big sister.

The baby who salvaged their broken marriage became both parents’ favourite. Charming little Sophie grew into a beautiful girl, with all the neighbours marvelling at how stunning she was—even though she looked nothing like either parent. For a fleeting moment, Victoria wondered if Mum had cheated with some handsome stranger, but she quickly dismissed the thought. Mum was far too prim and proper for that.

Sophie was openly indulged, turning Victoria into an unpaid nanny.

“Oh, how clever—have your helper first, then the baby!” the neighbours would coo whenever they saw the happy family (or, more often, just Victoria) pushing Sophie’s pram.

So Sophie was the *real* child, the darling. And Victoria? Just the failed first draft, only good for babysitting. A child’s mind couldn’t love this tiny creature who’d turned her world upside down.

If only she’d known how much misery that little girl would bring her… She’d never have agreed to be her minder.

Years passed. Victoria grew independent, mature—while Sophie, no matter how old she got, remained the pampered baby. Victoria remembered strict lessons, scoldings for every B, relentless pressure in music and art school (she’d grow to hate both because of it).

The *perfect student syndrome* had been drilled into her so thoroughly that even graduating with honours didn’t feel enough. Study, dance, sport, reading—Victoria stretched herself thin, chasing excellence in everything. *”The best”* was the only acceptable standard.

And Sophie? She drifted through life like a dandelion in the sun—except dandelions forged their own path, while Sophie had others paving hers.

She struggled in school, lacked passion for anything. Whatever she tried, she abandoned within minutes. Victoria fumed as their parents excused her absences and poor grades. She tried reasoning with them, only to be met with criticism.

The final straw came when Sophie ruined Victoria’s pristine white coat—the one she’d saved a year’s wages for. She’d just started working but still lived at home, dutifully paying bills and buying groceries. The coat was her chance to fit in with her well-dressed colleagues.

Then one evening, Sophie—barely fifteen, already sneaking drinks and cigarettes—stole it to impress her friends. She stumbled home past midnight, drunk, the coat filthy and torn.

Victoria, trembling with fury, slapped her.

Never disciplined before, Sophie howled as if maimed.

Their parents unleashed every insult they could conjure.

“You ungrateful brat! Living here rent-free, eating our food, then daring to hit your sister?”

“I *pay* rent! I buy the groceries! And that ‘brat’ ruined something I worked a year for! But of course, *I’m* the villain here? Has the world gone mad?”

Victoria packed her bags and left.

The first months were brutal. Some days, her wages didn’t cover food, and she guzzled black coffee to stave off hunger at work. Yet she still outshone everyone, earning a promotion. At the office party, she met Mark, a dashing divisional manager. A whirlwind romance led to marriage and their own flat within a year.

Victoria finally had everything—love, success, security. She tried not to dwell on her family’s indifference. Now, *this* was her family.

Five blissful years passed. Then—

“Darling, take Sophie with you to the seaside,” Mum pleaded again.

“Mum, Sophie’s insufferable. I’m going with my husband—why would I bring her?”

“But you’re sisters! You should help her!”

“Sophie’s twenty-one. She can help herself.”

Victoria couldn’t fathom why she should fund her sister’s holiday. Sophie had never worked or studied, living off their parents and Victoria’s occasional handouts. Yet worn down by guilt-trips and tears, she reluctantly agreed.

Days later, she caught Mark and Sophie in a hotel bathroom, mid-affair. Worse—Sophie had been seducing him for months, urging him to ditch “that old hag” for her.

Victoria returned alone, numb with betrayal.

The next day, Mum called—gleeful, not remorseful.

“Honestly, love, you’re past it. Sophie’s young, healthy—she’ll give Mark the children you couldn’t.”

“Mum! Your ‘darling’ Sophie is a spoiled brat who’ll be a slob by thirty! You coddled her like some delicate flower while treating me like some soldier needing constant discipline!”

“Oh—my heart—!” Mum gasped dramatically.

“I don’t care! Listen! You shielded her from the world, but *she’s* the danger! Lazy, entitled, envious—she’s not a child anymore, just a leech clinging to your necks!”

Victoria hung up, collapsing to the floor in sobs.

Mark wisely stayed away, later texting to discuss divorce and splitting their flat. Her first instinct was to relinquish everything—just to end the nightmare.

Then she reconsidered.

“Over my dead body. Sophie won’t waltz into *my* home, furnished with *my* money, like some prize.”

She recalled an article: *Other women see a married man as a perfect puzzle—until they try reassembling him themselves.* Sophie would soon learn that Mark’s polish came from Victoria’s influence.

Mark arrived that evening with a suitcase.

“Vic, I’ve filed for divorce. We need to settle the flat—do you want to keep it or split the value?”

“It’s *mine.* The deposit was my savings. You were saving for a car—remember? All receipts are in my name. Try contesting that in court.”

Mark left, vowing legal action.

“Good riddance!” she shouted after him.

Sophie, bored already, dumped him pre-divorce. When he crawled back repentant, Victoria laughed in his face.

“Take those flowers to Sophie—maybe she’ll take you back!”

Her parents resumed guilt-tripping her for financial help. Victoria dodged their calls, refusing to visit.

Meanwhile, an old university friend resurfaced—Charlie, now a sharp solicitor. He’d fancied her back then but never confessed. Over coffee, then dinners, their friendship rekindled.

A year later, Charlie proposed.

They married quietly, without inviting her family.

Sophie, however, appeared uninvited one morning.

“Vicky! Long time no see! Had work done?” She barged in, eyes darting for Charlie.

Victoria tried ejecting her—until Sophie slipped into their bedroom, where Charlie, fresh from the shower, was towelling off.

“Oh my—!” She lunged at him.

Charlie twisted her arm, marched her out.

Sophie screeched about assault, but Victoria just smiled.

“You’re right,” she told Charlie later. “No more guilt. Some people don’t deserve my love—or my forgiveness.”

**Lesson learned: Family isn’t just blood—it’s those who cherish you, not those who take you for granted.**