He was hoping I'd fail the initial medical exam by feeding me into high blood pressure and cholesterol.
"Let's switch. I'm getting tired of eating this every day."
Emma happily took my plate, ignoring her father's glare, and dug in with relish.
As she stuffed her mouth, barely pausing to wipe the grease from her lips, she asked, "Did you say you eat this every day?"
I raised my voice deliberately. "Yeah, Uncle Jeremy's cooking is amazing. He makes me a four-course meal with soup every day. Hasn't he ever cooked for you?"
Emma's hand paused mid-air, and she lowered her gaze without a word.
Of course, he hadn't.
Ever since my mom remarried, my stepfather had been busy currying favor with her, only visiting Emma back in the village once a year.
He was heartless enough to play the long game to catch the big fish.
But Emma didn't have the same cunning and began to feel wronged.
Seizing the opportunity, I twisted the knife further. "This is nothing. You should see the computer, phone, and makeup Uncle Jeremy bought me—they're all the latest models."
My stepfather cleared his throat and quickly urged us to get ready for school.