"Wait a minute," April Winter said, her voice trembling with shock. Her father's words hung in the air, sharp and heavy, leaving her breathless. "You're joking, right? You actually want me to take the blame for her?"

Alex Winter, seated across from her with his arms crossed, didn’t flinch. His tone was as cold as the snow-covered peaks that loomed outside their estate. "We aren’t asking, April. We’re ordering you. And this isn’t about blame—it’s about you owning up to your own mistake."

April’s chest tightened as her father’s words sliced through her. She spun toward her mother, hoping for an ally. "Mom," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "What is he saying?"

Kelly Winter’s lips pressed into a thin line, her silence stretching like an ominous shadow. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm but resolute. "I agree with him, sweetie. You have to take responsibility for your mistakes."

April’s heart sank. Her mother’s betrayal felt like a punch to the gut. "I can’t believe you guys," she scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You can’t be serious."

Alex leaned forward, his piercing eyes locking onto hers. "If you hadn’t interfered—if you hadn’t tried to help and messed up—Ophelia wouldn’t be in this situation."

April’s anger boiled over, her face flushing red. "If I hadn’t screwed up?" she yelled. "There were zero chances of her being chosen if she had done it on her own! I helped her! I should be getting thanked, not blamed!"

Kelly raised a hand, attempting to calm her daughter. "We’re not blaming you, April. We’re just trying to fix things. All we’re asking is that you explain to the professor that you were the one who changed the content."

April let out a hollow laugh, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I hate you guys," she spat. "Do whatever you want, but I’m not quitting or admitting defeat for something I didn’t do."

She stormed out of the study, slamming the door with a force that made the windows shudder. Alex sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair, while Kelly placed a soothing hand on his shoulder.

April’s rage carried her down the hall to her younger sister’s room. She threw open the door, the sound of it slamming against the wall startling Ophelia Winter, who jumped with a yelp.

"What’s wrong, sis?" Ophelia asked, her wide eyes filled with worry.

"Everything!" April yelled, her voice echoing off the walls. "Go and tell our parents this has nothing to do with me!"

Ophelia’s lips parted, but no words came out. She froze under her sister’s fiery glare.

"Did you hear me?" April shouted, her frustration boiling over. "It was your damn presentation! You should have cross-checked it!"

Ophelia’s voice was soft, almost timid. "Sorry, sis. I’ll try and explain to them. So don’t worry about it—"

But before Ophelia could finish, April had already spun on her heel and stormed off, slamming the door behind her.

In the sanctuary of her room, April finally let her defenses crumble. She sank onto her bed, her head falling into her hands as the tears she’d been holding back spilled freely down her cheeks.

Her chest heaved as she sobbed quietly, the weight of her parents’ words pressing down on her like a boulder. "My parents never support me," she whispered to the emptiness of her room. "I’m their real daughter, and Ophelia isn’t, but they still treat me like this."

She wiped angrily at her tears, frustration bubbling up alongside the sadness. "I hate her," she muttered, her voice trembling. But the moment the words left her lips, a pang of guilt joined the maelstrom of emotions inside her.

April sniffled and sat up, her eyes red and swollen. She tried to steady herself, to push away the hurt and betrayal. But no matter how hard she tried, her parents’ coldness and Ophelia’s quiet acceptance gnawed at her.

As the night deepened, April lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The storm in her heart raged on, the words she couldn’t say swirling in her mind. For the first time, she wondered if love—whether from her family or for them—was supposed to hurt this much.