Her words sent a chill through my body. Trembling, I backed toward the door and turned to look at the banner I hadn't paid attention to earlier.
"Happy 27th Birthday, Isabella!"
As soon as I saw the words, I covered my mouth with both hands, trying to hold back my tears.
The so-called birthday party they had thrown for me was never meant to be mine. It was always about Isabella.
They had all forgotten—or maybe, they never cared—that the only reason Isabella's birthday was celebrated today was because, when they adopted her, they gave her my birth date as a way to honor me.
But this day was never hers. It was mine.
Not that it mattered anymore.
I took a deep breath, feeling nothing but the bitter taste of self-mockery.
I should have known. Should have seen it coming.
The ill-fittin
