Dinner that night was quiet except for the sound of silverware clinking against fine china. The Winter family gathered around the ornate dining table, its polished surface gleaming under the soft glow of the chandelier. Everyone was present except for April. Her absence was noticed, but no one dared to mention it—at least, not immediately.

Alex Winter leaned back in his chair, his usually sharp demeanor softened as he addressed his youngest daughter. "I spoke to your professor," he began in an uncharacteristically sweet tone. "He said you can prepare another presentation, but there’ll be a 10% deduction from your grade."

Ophelia’s shoulders slumped, her lips curling into a pout. "I worked so hard for it, Dad," she whined. "And I still have to lose points?"

Kelly reached across the table, her hand lightly touching Ophelia’s in a gesture of comfort. "We know, dear," she said gently. "But at least the professor is giving you another chance. That’s what matters."

Ophelia nodded reluctantly, her expression still clouded with disappointment. After a pause, she asked, "By the way, where’s sis?"

Alex’s face darkened instantly, his jaw tightening. "Probably off fooling around somewhere," he said bitterly, his fist clenching against the table.

Sensing his growing frustration, Kelly stepped in, her voice calm and soothing. "Anyway, didn’t you have something important to tell us, honey?" she asked, her hand finding Alex’s arm in a subtle plea for restraint.

Alex’s features softened slightly, and a rare smile broke across his face. "Oh, yes," he said, his voice brightening. "Tomorrow is April’s birthday, and I’ve decided to host an event to announce some good news."

Kelly smiled, ever the peacemaker. "That’s wonderful. I’ll let her know."

"I hope she doesn’t create any problems," Alex muttered darkly, his smile vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Ophelia said nothing, her fork hovering mid-air as she absorbed the conversation. A shadow of jealousy flickered in her eyes, though she masked it with a carefully neutral expression.

"And Ophelia," Alex added, turning his attention back to her, "there will be a surprise for you tomorrow as well. So dress nicely."

Ophelia’s face lit up. "Really, Dad? A surprise?" she asked, her voice brimming with excitement. "I can’t wait to see what it is!"

Alex nodded, pleased with her reaction, as faint footsteps echoed in the hallway. A moment later, the door creaked open, and April appeared. She stood in the doorway, her sharp eyes scanning the table. Ignoring their gazes, she rolled her eyes and marched straight past them without a word, her steps heavy with defiance.

Alex’s face twisted with irritation as he watched her go. "That brat," he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with disdain.

"Honey, forget it," Kelly said softly, placing her hand on his arm again. "She’s still young."

"She’s the same age as Ophelia," Alex snapped, his voice rising. "But look at the difference. Ophelia is responsible, composed, everything April should be!"

Their voices carried down the hall, loud enough for April to hear as she reached her room. She stopped for a moment, her hand on the door handle, her heart aching at the comparison. With a resigned sigh, she pushed the door open, walked in, and shut it behind her.

Inside her room, April collapsed onto her bed, burying her face into the cool fabric of her pillow. For a moment, she let the muffled silence surround her, but her thoughts refused to stay quiet.

"It’s my birthday," she whispered, her voice cracking. "My party." A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Then why are they giving her a surprise?"

Her hands balled into fists, clutching the edges of her pillow as if it could absorb her frustration. She bit down on her lower lip, the sharp sting grounding her, even as the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. She had cried too many times over her parents, over their favoritism, over the constant comparisons. Tonight, she wouldn’t cry. Tonight, she would do something else.

Sitting up, April wiped at her face, her movements brisk and determined. "They can throw their party. They can celebrate Ophelia all they want," she murmured, her voice low but firm. "But they can’t take my day away from me."

As the moon rose higher in the sky, April sat at her desk, staring out at the dark expanse beyond her window. Tomorrow would be her birthday. And for once, she was determined to make it about herself—even if it meant going against her family’s expectations.