The Discarded Daughter Saves The Mill
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Summary
As my fingertips brushed against the frigid surface of the German-made milling machine, a single thought echoed in my mind: Never again.
In my first life, being "the one left behind" was a curse etched into my very marrow.
It started the day I was born. My father had spent the morning cradling my twin sister, Nicole, unable to stop smiling. But when the nurse handed him me—small, scrawny, and pale—his smile vanished. "Are you sure this one’s mine?" he’d asked, his voice laced with a cold kind of bewilderment.
