Chapter 1

The first sign something was wrong wasn't a fight or a forgotten birthday, it was a sound. A specific notification chime from my sister Lily' s phone, a sound I' d never heard before.

We were sitting around the dinner table, the three of them-Mom, Dad, and Lily-laughing about something that happened on a show they all watched. I didn' t watch it, so I just pushed my mashed potatoes around my plate, trying to look interested.

"And then he just walked into the glass door!" Lily giggled, her phone lighting up next to her plate.

Chime-Chime-Pop.

It was a quick, cheerful sound. Mom glanced at the phone and smiled. Dad chuckled. It was a shared moment, a tiny bubble of connection that didn't include me.

I didn' t think much of it right then, but the sound stuck in my head.

Later that evening, Lily asked me to help her with her biology homework. She was struggling with a concept I had aced in high school.

"Chloe, I just don' t get this Punnett square stuff," she whined, flopping onto the bed in her perfectly decorated room. Her walls were covered in posters of bands I' d never heard of and photos of her with friends at parties I was never invited to.

"It' s easy, look," I said, pulling her textbook closer. I started drawing out the diagrams, explaining the dominant and recessive genes. Her phone buzzed again on the nightstand.

Chime-Chime-Pop.

"Oh, hang on," she said, grabbing it. She typed quickly, a small smile on her face.

"Who are you talking to?" I asked, keeping my voice casual.

"Just Mom," she said, not looking up.

But I knew Mom' s text tone. It was the standard one that came with the phone. This was different. My curiosity turned into a knot in my stomach. I felt a familiar coldness spread through me, the same feeling I got whenever I looked at old family photos.

In every picture, Mom and Dad are beaming at Lily. She' s on Dad' s shoulders, or holding Mom' s hand, or blowing out birthday candles on a huge, fancy cake. I' m usually on the edge of the frame, slightly out of focus, wearing a hand-me-down from a cousin. I was the practical child, the one who didn' t need much. The one who got good grades and stayed out of trouble and never asked for anything.

I remembered my high school graduation. I was the valedictorian. I had a speech to give. I told them the ceremony started at 6 PM. They showed up at 7:30, just as I was walking off the stage.

"Sorry, traffic was terrible," Dad had said, clapping me on the shoulder. "Did we miss anything important?"

Lily had a dance recital that same week. They bought a new video camera for it. They took the entire day off work.

The memory was sharp and unpleasant. It made the air in Lily' s room feel thick.

"Okay, so you cross the 'T' with the 't' ," I said, forcing my attention back to her homework. I explained the whole thing again, slowly and clearly.

"I still don' t get it," Lily said, tossing her pencil down. Her phone buzzed again. Chime-Chime-Pop. This time she laughed out loud.

"What' s so funny?" I asked.

"Dad just sent that meme of the cat freaking out. He said it' s you trying to explain biology to me."

My blood ran cold.

A meme. About me. In a conversation between her and Dad. But she had said she was texting Mom.

My hands felt numb. I looked at her phone, then at her. She was completely oblivious, still smiling at the screen. The pieces clicked together in my head with a sickening finality. A group chat. Mom, Dad, and Lily. A chat without me.

The room suddenly felt small, like the walls were closing in. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"I... I have to go," I stammered, standing up so fast the chair scraped against the floor.

"But what about my homework?" Lily asked, finally looking up, her expression one of mild annoyance.

"Figure it out yourself," I said. The words came out harsher than I intended.

I walked out of her room and into the hallway. The family photos lining the wall seemed to mock me. There was Lily at Disney World, Lily with her first car (a birthday present I helped pay for), Lily at her prom in a dress that cost more than my textbooks for a whole semester.

And me, always on the periphery. The responsible one. The good one. The one who paid her own way through community college while working two jobs so the family could afford Lily' s private school tuition.

The overlooked one. The one who wasn't even important enough to be included in the family' s digital life.

I went into my own small, plain room and closed the door. I sat on my bed and stared at the wall. I didn't cry. I just felt a profound emptiness, a hollow space where a sense of belonging was supposed to be. The cheerful Chime-Chime-Pop echoed in my mind, a symbol of an exclusion so complete, so casual, that they never even thought to hide it. They didn't have to. In their world, I was already invisible.