Miss nobody strikes back

Useless

Chapter Twenty-One

The slap came again, harder this time. I didn't know if I should cry or just hold it in. "You listen to your mother when she speaks to you!" Dad's voice thundered as he glared at me. "You care about your books, huh?" Without warning, he snatched the notebook from my hands and tore it to pieces. My heart sank. Dominic's assignment—what was I going to tell him?

"Now sit down and eat your food," Dad commanded.

"If you paid attention, you'd know that I'm done eating," I shot back, glaring at him as tears threatened to spill from my eyes. They both looked at my plate, and then back at me, surprised. I didn’t wait for a response and ran up to my room, tears streaming down my face. Why do they hate me so much? I don’t fit into their perfect family picture. I don’t even look like them. Dad even questioned if I was really his daughter once. The memory made my chest tighten.

But no—this is the new Hanna. Aunt said not to let people use me or make me feel small. I took a deep breath and wiped my tears, but my thoughts kept racing. What am I going to do about the notes? I pulled the bed sheets over my head, trying to block everything out.

---

**Mom's POV**

I don’t know what's gotten into Hanna these days. She buries herself in her books all the time. At this rate, she’ll never get a good, rich husband. Who cares about a girl who spends all her time with her nose in books? She doesn’t care about her appearance, doesn’t socialize, and now she’s even reading while eating. It’s unhealthy.

I told her to put the book down, but instead of listening, she got up to leave the table. Thankfully, her father stopped her just in time. I guess I took it too far when I complained about the book. He got angry and slapped her again. This was the second time he’s raised his hand to her.

"It's your fault for not paying attention,” she snapped before running upstairs. We both turned to look at her empty plate, surprised. She had already finished eating. Gosh, what have I done?

Hubby didn’t seem to care, though. “We’ve given her too much freedom—books, nonsense. She should be out there making rich friends and building connections.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have hit her,” I tried to calm him down. “It was too much.”

“If I could go back in time, I’d do it all over again. She’s a burden. Aside from being ugly, she’s completely useless,” he spat out, and I couldn’t help but feel the sting of his words. Was he accusing me of cheating?

Before I could respond, Claire started coughing—loud, choking sounds. “Oh my God, Claire! Are you alright?” I handed her water, and she sipped it, calming her cough.

“Why are you stressing over Hanna?” Claire asked, her voice small but determined. “She doesn’t even like us. All she talks about is how Aunt made her happy. She hates me, and she hates you guys. But I love you, and I’ll take care of you when I get stronger. I’ll do anything for you.”

I hugged Claire tightly. “You sweet angel,” I whispered. She’s so innocent and fragile. That’s why we focus so much on her—why she needs more care and attention. I just hope Hanna will understand one day.

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**The Next Morning**

I prepared breakfast and set it on the table. Hubby had already left for work, so it was just me and the girls. Hanna always woke up early, tidying her room, getting ready for school. Today, she came downstairs with her hair tied back in a neat ponytail. Her skin looked flawless, and her uniform fit perfectly—almost like it had been tailored. I couldn’t help but notice the faint bruise on her cheek from last night’s slap. Her pale skin made it more noticeable.

She sat down quietly to eat, and I tried to make conversation. "Um, Hanna, about last night—"

Before I could finish, she looked up at me, and that’s when I noticed she wasn’t wearing her glasses. "Where are your glasses?" I asked.

“I wear contacts now,” she said simply.

“Contacts? Where did you get them?” I asked, surprised.

“Aunt took me to the hospital to get them,” she replied casually. Aunt again. What else has she done for Hanna? She didn’t even bring anything for Claire. They’re twins—shouldn’t they get the same attention?

“About last night,” I began again, trying to find the right words.

“What about it?” Hanna interrupted. “You listened to Claire, Dad slapped me, and then he tore up my book. He even questioned whether I was really his daughter.”

I felt a lump in my throat. She had overheard us. “Oh, you thought I wouldn’t hear it? Well, I did.”

“He didn’t mean it, Hanna. He was just angry,” I tried to explain, but it sounded weak, even to my own ears.

“As usual,” she said coldly. “They never mean it, but somehow, I’m always the problem. I’m always the one who triggers the anger, right?” She stood up, grabbing her bag. “I’m going to school. I’ll be back late.”

Before I could say anything, she walked out of the house. Her words left me feeling hollow. Have I been wrong this whole time? What have I done?

---

“Hey, Mom! I’m starving. I hope there’s beef in this,” Claire chirped as she walked downstairs, dressed for school. I frowned. Her clothes were too tight, and she was wearing too much makeup.

“Claire, what happened to your uniform? Why are you wearing so much makeup?” I asked.

“Mom, I go to the most prestigious school in New York. I have to look the part,” she said, adjusting her hair.

“But what about your sister?” I asked, my voice softer this time. “Even with all the changes she’s made, she still doesn’t wear makeup.”

“That’s because she’s sad and lonely. She’s a loser, Mom. She doesn’t have any friends, and she’s an outcast,” Claire said with a smirk. She seemed to take pleasure in insulting her sister. I don’t know where all this animosity comes from, but it worries me. I wanted to ask more, but the words just wouldn’t come.