Chapter 3: The Princess and the Outcast

Later, I learned Danielle’s wedding was as grand as any governor’s daughter’s.

The local news covered it like royalty—camera crews, flower arches, tables loaded with food, every politician in the county. Gold-leaf invitations. Danielle on the cover of Maple Heights Monthly, looking radiant and untouchable.

The Prime Minister’s family went all out. The First Lady gifted Danielle her own beaded wedding veil—a piece of family history I’d traced as a child, now handed over like it never mattered to me.

Everyone called them the perfect couple—a match made in heaven.

Neighbors gossiped, Instagram feeds overflowed, Danielle and Lucas trended for days. People loved a fairytale, even if it meant someone else had to be the villain.

They’d all forgotten: Lucas was once my fiancé, and Danielle was once just the mayor’s daughter from a nowhere town.

I remembered Danielle’s first visit—soft Southern accent, hands trembling around a faded duffel. No one could have pictured the woman she’d become.

After her parents died, she came to Maple Heights for shelter. The First Lady asked Dad to make Danielle County Princess, and for months, the town treated her like Cinderella. I felt sorry for her, let her pick first in everything—food, clothes, car rides. I thought I was being kind.

But things changed. The gap grew quietly, until I woke up one day and realized I was the outsider.

The necklace—her gift to me—turned into an accusation. Mom scolded me for wearing it, accusing me of taking what wasn’t mine. I tried to explain, but Danielle only bit her lip and looked away, tears in her eyes. Her silence was louder than any words.

Later, she whispered she was scared to contradict the First Lady. “Though she’s my aunt, she’s your mom. If you contradict her, nothing happens, but if I do... she’ll dislike me. I’m sorry, I was just scared. If only my mom were still alive...”

She cried, and I felt guilty for doubting her.

Derek stormed in, shoving me aside, Caleb shielding Danielle behind him. “Don’t cry, I’ll take you out for ice cream,” he promised, glaring at me like I was the villain. They left, planning a secret adventure—one I’d never be invited to.

I was fifteen and couldn’t find the words to defend myself. I just felt small, left behind.

I went to Lucas, poured my heart out on his porch swing. He was furious on my behalf, ready to demand an apology from Danielle, but I stopped him. I didn’t want more trouble—or for Lucas to start resenting me too.

Lucas squeezed my hand. “Rachel, you’re just too kind-hearted. You have to change, or you’ll get walked all over.”

“I won’t, as long as you stay the same,” I promised, but even then it felt fragile.

My sixteenth birthday was combined with Danielle’s Sweet Sixteen at the community center. Silver streamers, helium balloons, chocolate fountain, a DJ spinning pop hits, and a pile of gifts on a folding table by the door. Danielle was the star, laughter sparkling through the room. The First Lady gave her diamond earrings, Derek a designer dress, and Caleb gave her a used Fender Strat he’d saved up for all summer. He beamed as Danielle strummed the first few chords of ‘Sweet Caroline,’ her voice clear and unsteady, even the adults stopped to listen.

I noticed the shift—Caleb started calling me by my name and Danielle ‘sis.’ It stung. I put on my best fake smile and waited for Lucas’s gift: a jade pendant, green and lustrous. I put it on, feeling content—until I saw Danielle’s hungry gaze on it.

After the party, I needed to see Lucas, but he wasn’t home. I went to bed alone, clutching the pendant. In the middle of the night, Danielle stumbled in drunk, and Lila grumbled about having to clean up after her. Mrs. Thompson just said to let her enjoy herself—she’d take care of everything. The double standard was clear as day.

I remembered being told at fourteen I was too old to make mistakes. On my birthday, all I got was a lecture about following the rules.

The next evening, Danielle breezed into the kitchen, hair tangled, still sleepy. “Sorry for disturbing you last night,” she said sweetly. “Lucas gave me a pool of starlight. The necklace you’re wearing is beautiful, too. Lucas and I picked it out together.”

Her hug smelled of lavender and cigarette smoke. I pulled off the necklace, hatred blooming in my chest. I waited for Lucas to come home, confronted him about the necklace. He admitted he’d chosen it with Danielle. The pool of starlight—our secret—was the gift he’d given her, not me.

I smashed the pendant on the porch, shards of green glass skittering across the wood, one slicing Lucas’s hand. He swore, blood welling up, then snapped, “Rachel, come on. You have everything, and Danielle’s got nothing. Why can’t you just let her have this one thing?”

His words burned. I forced myself to say, “Lucas, what I have, I was born with. Why should I share it with others? If you care for her, give her your things. Don’t be generous with what belongs to others.”

We’d never spoken so harshly. That night, I pressed my forehead to the cool window, breath fogging the glass, watching headlights crawl by on the street below. Danielle and Lucas became inseparable; I was the outsider.

I questioned the curfew, but Caleb snapped, “Danielle never got to enjoy Maple Heights. You have so much, yet you still make trouble. Can’t you stand to see her happy?” I reminded him I’d never seen the world outside my window at night. He fell silent. Mrs. Thompson dismissed me, taking away my food and ignoring me at dinner. Caleb warned me to copy scripture for forgiveness.

I spent three months copying the Book of Psalms, hoping Mrs. Thompson would see my devotion. I presented it to her, and for a moment she softened—until Danielle burst in, announcing Lucas had taken her to meet his family. Mrs. Thompson declared Lucas and Danielle would be engaged. My heart broke as she dismissed my pain, insisting I’d find someone else, but Danielle only had Lucas.

When the Book of Psalms fell and broke its binding, I snatched it up and threw it down. It felt like everything in my life was shattering.

I smashed a porcelain vase, shards scattering across the hardwood like snow. “It’s because I followed the rules that I ended up like this. From now on, I won’t follow your rules anymore.”

Mrs. Thompson slapped me. My ears rang, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Derek and Caleb demanded I apologize to Danielle. I spat blood onto the driveway, wiped my lips, and told them I severed all ties. “You are not worthy to be my brothers.”

Caleb grabbed me, and I shook him off, reminding him of all the times I’d helped him as a child. He confessed he never liked me, resented me for every little thing. The truth was uglier than I’d ever imagined.

I choked out, “From now on, you have no sister, and I have no brother. We’re strangers.” I finally let myself cry, hidden behind the hedges. Caleb shouted, “My sister is Danielle, not you!”

I was truly alone, but breaking the rules felt good. I got drunk for the first time under Mrs. Thompson’s glare, then rode out of town, wind in my hair, finally free. When I found Max Wylie, bloody and desperate on the road, I took him in—one lost soul recognizing another.

Later, at Dad’s birthday, Danielle presented my stolen gift. I forced Dad to investigate. Caleb confessed he’d taken it, thinking I had plenty. Dad punished him, but at home, Mrs. Thompson slapped me for making the family look bad. I told her, “You are you, I am me. We can never share honor and disgrace.”

I demanded my own place, and Dad agreed. I moved out, turning seventeen alone. When my siblings and Danielle showed up at my door, demanding I bless Danielle and Lucas’s engagement, I told them to get out. When Derek threatened me, Max blocked him. I dared Derek to hit me, promising to make a scene at City Hall. They left, and I taped a sign to my door: Derek and dogs not allowed inside. For the first time in my life, I didn’t care who saw. Let them talk. I was done playing by their rules.