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"The night before my wedding, my sister said to me, ""Victoria, tomorrow... you shouldn't be my bridesmaid."" ""The white patches on your face... the guests will notice, and I don't want Lucas to think I have a flaw."" She paused. ""Honestly, it's a little embarrassing to have you standing next to me."" My hand froze in mid-air; the 108-pearl dowry bracelet I had personally chosen, polished, and strung was on her wrist. The warm luster of the pearls seemed to mock my ""imperfection."" When I was thirteen, I developed a strange illness, and the first white patch appeared on my left cheek. Later, similar white patches appeared on my sister's back. That night, I heard my parents arguing in hushed tones. ""Treat both? The company is just starting out, where will we get that much money?"" ""Then treat one first."" ""Isabella is still young, her life has just begun."" ""Victoria... she's the older sister, she should give way to her younger sister."" ""Besides, hers is already ruined on her face, why waste money?"" The cup slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor." "My younger sister, who was about to marry into a wealthy family, spoke up on the eve of her wedding. “Victoria, maybe you shouldn’t be my bridesmaid tomorrow.” I was helping her try on the bracelet I had painstakingly strung myself and didn’t hear her clearly at first. Her tone was that usual soft, fragile kind. “Even though you’re my only sister, that mark on your face…” “The guests will notice. I don’t want Lucas to see me as flawed.” “Honestly, having you stand beside me would be humiliating.” My hands froze mid-motion. I hadn’t expected her to think that way about me. Mom drap//ed a coat over her shoulders and didn’t respond. Her silence seemed like approval. “You’ve always been so good to me, giving up everything since we were kids, but tomorrow is my big day.” “Lucas comes from such an illustrious family. I don’t want him or my friends to ridicule me because of you… or think my family is unworthy.” I lowered my eyes and looked at the bracelet in my hands, a string of 108 lustrous pearls I had picked, polished, and strung myself as part of her dowry. Now, it seemed to have become a symbol of imperfection. I slowly removed the bracelet from her wrist and placed it back in its box. “Okay,” I said softly. Isabella’s expression relaxed immediately. “You’re the best, sis. I knew you’d understand me.” Mom ran her fingers through Isabella’s silky hair, her eyes full of pride. “Alright, stop standing there. Go rest. Tomorrow, you’ll be the most beautiful bride.” I quietly tidied up the table, putting away each accessory I had prepared for the bridesmaids. I should have been used to this by now. This habit started the summer I was thirteen. I had fallen seriously ill, and a white patch the size of a fingernail appeared on my left cheek. At first, Mom and Dad were frantic, taking me everywhere to see doctors. But six months later, my eleven-year-old sister discovered a similar white patch on her back while bathing. The house fell into a tense silence. Doctors said it was an autoimmune condition with a long, costly treatment and no guarantee of full recovery. That night, thirsty in the middle of the night, I overheard my parents arguing. Dad said, “Treat both? The company is just starting. Where would we get that much mon//ey?” Mom’s voice was low, “Then we treat one first.” “Isabella is still young. Her life is just beginning.” “And her patch is on her body; it can be covered. She has a better chance of recovery.” “What about Victoria?” Dad asked. “Victoria… she’s the older sister. She’s mature; she should give way to her sister.” “Besides, hers is on her face. It’s ruined already. Why waste mon//ey?” The cup in my hand fell to the floor and shattered. I didn’t cry. I quietly cleaned up the pieces and went back to my room, hiding my head under the blanket. From that day on, I had to be the considerate older sister. All the family’s attention and resources went to Isabella. What I got in return was just one sentence, “The older sister must give way.” Left unnoticed by everyone, the patch slowly spread from the size of a fingernail to cover half my face, a constant reminder of my imperfection. Snapping back to the present, I put away the last piece of jewelry. “Mom, I’ll head back now.” Mom finally glanced at me, her brows slightly furrowed. “Come early tomorrow to help, even if you’re not the bridesmaid. There will still be plenty to handle at the wedding.” “Okay.” I left Isabella’s room. In the living room, Dad was chatting cheerfully with my future brother-in-law. Lucas Lane saw me and his smile faltered slightly. He nodded in acknowledgment. His eyes lingered on the white patch on my face for less than half a second before looking away. We had grown up together, childhood sweethearts. Before he went abroad, he had grabbed my hand and said, “Victoria, wait for me.” But when he returned, he saw me, flawed, and my brilliant, beautiful sister. He looked disappointed. And I never explained that those dazzling proposals in the company, the ones that made Isabella shine, had all been conceived at my desk. Because Mom had said: the older sister must give way, must support her sister. I stepped out of the house. The evening breeze was cool against my face. I looked up at the moon, so bright and perfectly round. The next day, I arrived before dawn. Even without my bridesmaid role, I still had endless things to handle. From finalizing the floral arrangements on-site, to reviewing the banquet menu down to the smallest detail. To repeatedly running through the guest guidance process. I whirled like a wound-up top, spinning non-stop. Mom was clearly pleased with my diligence. She pulled me into the makeup room, directing the makeup artist on the finishing touches for Isabella. “Our Isabella is a natural beauty. Her skin is flawless, a touch of makeup and she looks ethereal.” She turned and smiled at me. “Victoria, maybe the makeup artist can help tone down your patch? There will be many guests, don’t let it stand out.” But the white patch on my face was too large. No amount of concealer could hide it completely. Any attempt only made my skin tone uneven, making it more noticeable. I had tried once before and gave up. “No need, Mom. I need to stay backstage to keep an eye on things. I don’t have time.” The makeup artist and a few bridesmaids shot me sympathetic glances; I pretended not to notice. When the ceremony began, I stationed myself in the most inconspicuous corner of the ballroom, walkie-talkie in hand, ready for any emergencies. Isabella walked down the aisle in the wedding dress I had chosen for her, arm in arm with Dad, toward Lucas waiting at the center stage. She looked breathtaking, like a true princess. When Dad handed her to Lucas, his eyes glistened with tears. He choked up, saying, “Lucas, I’m entrusting you with our most precious treasure. Please take good care of her.” Thunderous applause filled the hall. But I felt like an outsider. Every detail of this wedding had taken me six months of meticulous planning. Even the red sports car Isabella received as part of her dowry, its down payment came from my savings accumulated over the years. Mom and Dad always said the family had spent a fortune on Isabella’s treatment. The dowry couldn’t be meager, or the groom’s family would look down on us. “You’re the older sister; it’s only right you support her.” But at this moment, no one remembered me. The MC was enthusiastically introducing Isabella, “Miss Isabella Hayes, not only stunning in appearance, she is also an indispensable force by Mr. Lucas Lane’s side.” “Several major projects in the company were accomplished single-handedly by her, a true prodigy!” I lowered my head, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. Those projects, those sleepless nights, all became the dazzling halo above her head. During the toasting session, they went table by table. At Lucas’s friends’ table, a man whistled and joked loudly, “Lucas, your sister-in-law… is… quite something.” His gaze lingered on my face without a hint of shame. The entire room went silent for a moment. Isabella’s face paled slightly, and she tightened her hold on Lucas’s arm. Mom quickly smiled, smoothing things over, “Victoria never cared much for dressing up. She’s always focused on work, a real go-getter in our family.” Lucas raised his glass, glancing at me briefly. “Don’t talk nonsense. She is my wife’s sister, Victoria Hayes.” I picked up the wine in front of me and downed it in one gulp, then smiled politely. “Please, enjoy. I’ll go check on the kitchen.” As I turned to leave, I heard the whispers of the guests behind me. “What a shame… I’d heard people say Lucas and his sister were childhood sweethearts…” “Yeah, but with a face like that, who’d dare marry her? She’d be shameful to be seen in public.” “The younger sister’s beautiful and capable. She’s the perfect match for Lucas.” I finally slipped into the deserted backstage, allowing myself a rare moment to breathe. My phone screen displayed a photo of Lucas and me in high school. In that picture, my patch was still hideable with makeup, so I smiled bright and carefree. And Lucas had only eyes for me. “Victoria… you used to be different,” he had said after returning, seeing my patch and my accomplished younger sister. Yes, I was different now. Yes, I was no longer that bright, lively Victoria Hayes, eroded by my parents’ favoritism, all summed up in that one phrase, ""The older sister must give way."" I deleted the photo, as if erasing a memory already rotted beyond repair. Isabella and Lucas spent half a month honeymooning on an island. During those two weeks, the company was unusually quiet. I finally had the freedom to pour all my energy into my own project, the CloudNest Smart Home System. On the very first day Isabella returned, she walked straight into my office. “Victoria, the honeymoon was exhausting. Lucas insisted on dragging me around everywhere,” she complained, though her tone was full of pride. I nodded. “Get some rest now that you’re back.” “Rest? What for?” She sat across from me and flipped through the project proposal on my desk. “Lucas said the CloudNest project is really important.” “It’s the company’s strategic core for the second half of the year, nothing can go wrong.” A sinking feeling settled in my ches//t. “So?” Isabella looked up at me with an innocent smile. “So, Lucas decided I should take over as the lead on this project.” “Since you’re experienced, Victoria, you’ll be my deputy. Help me supervise, okay?” My fingers clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms. Why should she? Those words churned in my throat, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak them aloud. I looked at her, and her gaze was the same as when she had snatched the only imported doll from me at ten. Back then, Mom had said, “Isabella likes it. You’re the older sister, let her have it.” “Is this the company’s decision or Lucas’s?” I asked. “Does it matter?” She chuckled lightly, hugging the proposal to her ches//t. “Don’t worry, Victoria. When the project succeeds, I won’t forget your contributions.” “We’re sisters. What’s yours is mine, why split hairs over it?” With that, she left, full of confidence and energy. The office was left empty except for me and the cold weight settling in my ches//t. That evening, I returned home. Mom and Dad were watching TV, and Mom casually asked, “How’s dinner?” I cut straight to the point. “Mom, the company has put Isabella in charge of the CloudNest project.” Mom paused, then smiled brightly. “Really? That’s wonderful! Our Isabella is so capable.” “Just married and already handling such responsibility. Lucas really chose well.” Dad nodded in agreement. “She’s ambitious, and with you helping her as her older sister, this project is sure to succeed.” My heart sank further. “That project… from start to finish… was all my work.” “I know,” Mom said, as if it were obvious. “But you’re the older sister. Isn’t supporting your younger sister what you’re supposed to do?” “Isabella is now the boss’s wife. Her position is secure, and isn’t your life at the company easier too?” “You have no sense of the bigger picture at all!” “Bigger picture?” I laughed bitterly. “My bigger picture is handing over everything I’ve done to her?” “Victoria!” Dad’s face darkened, and he barked sharply, “How dare you speak to your mother like that?” “All these years, how much effort have we spent on Isabella?” “As her older sister, what’s wrong with smoothing her path and bearing a little grievance?” “Your condition on your face… has it made you so bitter and jealous?” I stared at the two people I had always called Mom and Dad, and they suddenly felt completely alien to me. They couldn’t see my effort, my pain. All they saw were my flaws and Isabella’s perfection. I took a deep breath, swallowing back the lump in my throat. “Fine. I understand.” I turned to leave. “Where are you going?” Mom called from behind. “To the office. I still have work.” I didn’t look back, afraid they’d see the tears brimming in my eyes. That night, I stayed at the office, working late into the night. I organized all the core resources for the project and packaged them for Isabella. At the end of the email, I wrote just one sentence: [This is the last time I’ll ever step aside for you.] "

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