The Vicious Saint

Summary

My problem is that I’m a people-pleaser. The kind who takes every word someone says as gospel.

So when the girl they raised as their daughter, the one who wasn't me, threw a tantrum and refused to eat, screaming that the food was "garbage," I got down on my knees. I picked up the meal she’d thrown on the floor and began to eat it, piece by piece, as if it were a feast.

Faced with the shocked expressions of my biological parents, I just gave a weak smile.

“She said it was garbage. And that’s what I am. So it’s only right that I eat it.”