My parents liquidated their assets to buy a house and luxury furniture for my sister’s wedding. When I quietly asked, “Is there anything left for me?” the room instantly froze. Dad sneered, his voice dropping to a menacing growl, “We know about your secret savings. Hand it over; her wedding needs a bigger budget.” When I refused, Mom didn’t strike me, but her glare was more painful than any physical blow. She hurled my suitcase onto the driveway and screamed, “You selfish brat! Get out and stay out of our will!” As the door slammed shut, the last thing I saw was my sister’s triumphant smirk. I left that night into the cold rain with absolutely nothing. Five years later, I watch from my balcony as their rusted car slows down in front of my gilded estate every single day, whispering, “Who could possibly own a palace like this?” little knowing that the moment I step out to open those gates, their world is going to shatter.