Of course, there had been times Feng Suyin wondered who her real parents were and why they had abandoned her. Ever since Feng Yilan was born and she watched her adopted parents dote on the younger girl, something settled in her chest that she could never quite name. A low, persistent ache that followed her into mirrors.
She'd stand there and search her own face for clues: the set of her eyes, the line of her jaw. Features that came from somewhere. From someone who never came back for her.
Despite the unanswered questions that gnawed at her, Feng Suyin had learned to bury the want early. She threw herself into academics instead, pushed herself until her grades were something no one could argue with. If she couldn't be loved for existing, she'd make herself impossible to ignore.
