Behind The Bandages Of The Billionaires Forgotten Daughter

Summary

The moment my skin suddenly fractured, splitting open and bleeding uncontrollably, my father finally admitted that my mother carried the gene for Butterfly Syndrome.

He saw the outbreak—he saw me—as a plague. He took my healthy sister and stormed out, abandoning me.

My mother, thankfully, seemed heartbroken. She meticulously wrapped every sharp object in the house and stayed by my side, refusing to leave.

But a week later, she also vanished. She couldn’t overcome her crippling aversion to blood, or so she claimed, leaving me, who had just begun to rebuild hope, utterly alone.