They Said I Was Allergic to Meat,So My Sister Could Eat It All

1: 1

I was allergic to meat. Not a single bite of it could touch my lips.

The eighteenth time I collapsed from malnutrition and got carried into a hospital, I messaged the family group chat.

I fainted. I'm at the hospital.

No one replied.

Two hours later, the doctor walked in holding my blood test results.

"These say you aren't allergic to any meat at all. Did your family get something confused?"

I snapped a photo of the report and posted it in the group.

The doctor says I can eat meat.

Mom replied instantly.

Angela Fox, what are you trying to say? You think this family can't spare you a bite of meat?

Dad followed right behind.

Don't go upsetting your mother.

I stared at the messages, frozen.

And it came back to me, how it was only after my sister was born that Mom and Dad started saying I was allergic to meat.

I was six then, and I didn't believe it. I secretly fished a half-eaten chicken drumstick out of the trash that my sister had thrown away.

Mom caught me and jammed her fingers down my throat.

She forced me to vomit until my stomach bled, and I spent two weeks in the hospital.

After that, I never dared to touch meat again.

My social feed refreshed with a photo of my sister, standing at a table covered in barbecue, flashing peace signs with both hands.

The caption:

The Herms of all-you-can-eat barbecue. Oh yeah.

That place cost eighteen hundred and sixty dollars a head. The vouchers came from a project partner at my company, two of them.

With one line, "You can't eat meat," Mom had decided to hand both to my sister.

Tears splattered onto the screen.

This lie had fooled me for twenty years.

It wasn't that they couldn't spare me a bite.

They were just afraid that every bite I took was a bite less for my sister.

I opened my boss's chat.

"That offer to send me to the Montgomery branch office to run the project, I accept."

I'd heard the beef and lamb in Montgomery were rich and delicious. From now on, I'd eat meat by the mouthful, alone.

After the last bottle of IV nutrients drained, the doctor wrote up the papers and discharged me.

When I got home, Mom and Dad were on the couch with Vera Fox, watching a variety show, all three of them laughing at whatever was on the screen.

Hearing the door, Mom turned her head toward me.

"You're back? Your sister brought home skillet chicken for me and your dad. We already finished it."

She raised a hand and pointed at the dining table.

"You can't eat meat, so cook yourself some rice and heat up whatever's there."

One plate held the beef-and-lettuce stir-fry, picked down to nothing but the lettuce. The other held some yellowing bok choy.

I looked at the food on the table, and something hot and heavy lodged in my throat, aching and bitter at once.

Seeing the look on my face, Mom rolled her eyes.

"Your sister goes out and still remembers to bring food back for me and your dad. You come home empty-handed, fine, but who's the sour face for?"

Then she turned back to the TV.

My hand shook around the test report. I drew in a breath and walked over to stand in front of them.

"I already posted the blood results in the group. The doctor says I was never allergic to meat at all. I've always been able to eat it."

Mom gave me a flat glance.

"Oh. Got it."

Dad cleared his throat, hard.

"Are you blaming us? The doctor back then said you couldn't eat meat. How were your mom and I supposed to know?"

"Besides, you can eat it now, so eat it. Nobody's stopping you."

I looked down at the purple bruises around the needle marks on the back of my hand. My chest felt tight and choked.

After a few seconds of silence, Mom said,

"Fine. It's a good thing you can eat meat now. There's a few pieces of chicken left from what your sister brought. I'll get it out for you."

She stood, opened the fridge, and pulled out a container tucked behind a pile of vegetables.

She lifted the lid. Inside were two drumsticks and five loose scraps of meat.

She dropped the five scraps onto a plate, closed the container with the drumsticks inside, and put it back.

"That was going to be for your sister's noodles tomorrow morning. I'll give you a few pieces. Your little recovery really has good timing."

"That's all right."

My voice was very quiet.

But Mom reacted as if something had set her off, slamming her chopsticks down on the table.

"Angela Fox, who's that sour face for?"

"I'm tired. I want to rest."

Then I turned and walked toward my room.

The moment I shut the door, a plate shattered against the floor in the living room.

"She actually dares to make a face at me? I raised her with everything I had. What did I ever do wrong by her?"

"Come on, Vera's been sweet and obedient since she was little. Don't waste your anger on her."

Vera coaxed them, sweet and wheedling.

"Dad, Mom, don't be mad. Come watch TV with me."

The laughter started up again.

As if none of it had happened at all.

My phone lit up with a message from my boss.

"Report to the Montgomery branch office in seven days. Tickets are booked. Get your handover done in the next few days."

I forced the wronged tears back down.

Never mind.

I was leaving this family anyway.

2: 2

The next day was Vera's birthday party.

Early that morning, Mom pushed my bedroom door open and started digging through my closet.

She pulled out the princess dress at the very back, still zipped inside its garment bag.

It was a gift from my boyfriend, Simon Dickerson.

I'd never had the heart to wear it.

"The dress I got for Vera is the wrong size. I'll borrow this one to tide us over."

She didn't wait for me to answer. She just turned and walked out with it.

I got up and got dressed.

Mom and Dad flanked Vera on either side, and I trailed behind.

Simon's car was parked downstairs.

That surprised me.

Vera hurried up to it.

"Simon! I only mentioned it in passing yesterday. I didn't think you'd actually come to pick me up!"

Simon smiled.

"You treated me to barbecue yesterday. Of course I'd come get you."

My steps stalled.

"Didn't you say you were working late at the office yesterday?"

Yesterday, the moment I woke up in the hospital, the first thing I did was call Simon.

He didn't pick up. He texted back: "Working late. Busy."

Simon came around Vera and stopped in front of me.

"I was having dinner with Vera at the time. I couldn't just leave her there on her own to go find you, and I'm not a doctor anyway, so showing up wouldn't have helped."

"I said I was working late because I didn't want you overthinking it. I wasn't trying to lie to you."

"Right, right."

Vera cut in.

"Angie, I'll keep an eye on Simon for you, so don't read too much into it."

"Got it."

My hand had just touched the passenger door when Simon caught me by the wrist.

"Angela, you ride in back with Mom and Dad. Vera's in a dress, it's a hassle for her to squeeze into the back."

It was an order, not a suggestion.

I gave him a long look and walked to the back seat.

Simon opened the passenger door and put his hand over the top of Vera's head as she got in.

"Vera, that dress really suits you."

I sat in the back, a heaviness pressing on my chest.

Back when I bought this dress, I was too thin and frail to fill it out, and it hung on me all wrong.

But Simon had swiped his card and paid for it anyway, telling me not to worry, that he'd feed me up nice and healthy, and one day I'd fit into it.

And now he thought the dress suited Vera.

We reached the restaurant and went into the private room.

Vera settled in beside Simon as if it were the natural thing to do, and I took whatever empty seat was left.

Simon glanced at me and said nothing.

Not long after, my uncle's family and my aunt's family arrived too.

Amid the small talk, the dishes came out one by one.

The last one was a plate of steamed crab, a complimentary dish from the restaurant, counted out one per person.

The server was portioning out the crab for everyone.

When it came to me, Mom cleared her throat.

"You don't need to give her any. She can't eat meat. Give hers to her."

She pointed at Vera beside her.

The server said yes and reached to lift the crab off my plate.

"Mom."

I put my hand down over the crab.

"I can eat meat. The doctor said I've never been allergic to meat. I already told you that yesterday."

My aunt frowned.

"Didn't your mom say you were sickly at six, and that's what made you allergic to meat?"

"When I was six was when Vera started on solid food."

My uncle set down his chopsticks.

"What does Vera have to do with your allergy?"

"Back then Dad's business hadn't taken off yet. We were poor. There was only enough meat for one child."

Mom slammed both hands on the table.

"Angela! What kind of nonsense are you spouting!"

Dad hurled the wine glass in his hand at me. Blood ran down my forehead and blurred my vision.

"You just had to make a scene at your sister's birthday party?"

My aunt-in-law stepped in.

"Come on now, what's past is past. It's a good thing Angie can eat meat now. Meat's good for you."

The other relatives chimed in one after another, urging peace.

Vera suddenly stood up and ran out, eyes red.

Simon shot me a disapproving glare, then rushed out after her.

The birthday party broke up in bad blood.

I took a cab to the hospital myself to have the cut on my forehead treated.

It wasn't that they hadn't seen the wound.

They just didn't care.

That night I didn't go home. I checked into a hotel near the office.

Early the next morning I went in to handle my transfer paperwork.

By the time I finished, it was already noon.

Simon sent me a text.

Mom, Dad, and Vera are all waiting for you at home. They said they want to apologize to you.

3: 3

I stared at my phone screen, my nose stinging.

I flagged down a cab and headed straight home.

The second my hand touched the keypad lock, the door opened from the inside.

It was Simon.

"Angela."

His eyes moved over the bandage on my forehead.

I made a small sound of acknowledgment and walked past him into the living room.

The table was covered with dishes, all of them meat. Braised pork trotters, fried ribs, cola chicken wings.

Vera took my hand and led me to the table, watching me carefully.

"Angie, I thought about it all night. It really is my fault you couldn't eat meat all these years, and I don't know how to make it up to you."

"I had Simon go out with me first thing this morning to buy everything, and Mom and I cooked it all together."

Our parents' tone softened too.

"Angie, you must be hungry. Come eat."

"Your mom and Vera spent the whole morning on this table of food."

Looking at the scene in front of me, something in me softened.

Maybe I should give this family one more chance.

Simon pushed a pair of chopsticks into my hand.

"Try some."

I sat down on the stool and picked up a piece of rib, put it in my mouth.

The greasiness burst across my tongue, and I forced down my discomfort and swallowed the chewed meat.

The next second, I rushed into the bathroom and threw up over the toilet.

I only came back to myself after I'd brought up sour bile and emptied my whole stomach.

I lifted my head and found myself facing a phone camera.

Vera was smiling a nasty little smile.

"See? You just can't eat meat. Not only did you wrongly blame Mom and Dad, you pinned the whole thing on me."

"I haven't touched meat in twenty years. It's normal for my body not to handle it right away"

"Angela, stop making excuses."

Simon cut off my explanation, his eyes going cold.

"You've been jealous since you were little that Vera was prettier than you, that our aunt and uncle doted on her more. If you talk her down to me, I can put up with it."

"But the one thing you should never have done was slander her in front of that many people."

The corner of my mouth twitched, but no smile came out, only a thread of exhaustion.

Simon and I were college classmates. We got together over shared interests, and I poured out to him all the hurt I'd suffered at home.

Back then he was so angry he wanted to help me cut ties with them, and he swore he would always favor me.

But after I brought him home, he told me, "Is there some misunderstanding between you and your sister? I think she's a nice person."

Now he even called what I'd suffered jealousy, and called the truth slander.

The phone screen lit up.

Messages kept popping up in the big family group chat.

I tapped in.

One minute ago, the video of me throwing up in the bathroom after eating meat had been posted to the group.

With a line of text below it.

Yesterday Angela lied and framed my mom and dad and ruined my birthday dinner. Watch the video, she just can't eat meat.

Below that was a voice message from Mom.

See? We made her a whole table of meat and she still couldn't eat it.

She was just born to suffer, can't handle nice things, and holds a grudge against her own sister. Serves her right.

Then Dad.

Ah, we made everyone laugh at us yesterday. Let me apologize for that here.

If Angela had even half the sense Vera does, her mother and I wouldn't have had it this hard.

I looked at my phone and just found it absurd.

I'd thought their conscience had finally caught up with them. Instead it was a trap they'd carefully set for me.

Vera clung to Simon's hand, cooing.

"Simon, you're amazing, teaching us how to expose my sister's lies!"

I looked at Simon.

His gaze darted away, but it went cold again quickly.

"Angela, whose fault is it for framing Vera."

I didn't answer.

I got up, washed my face, went back to my room and started packing.

Once I was done and about to leave, I found the door had been locked from the outside.

Mom's voice came from behind it.

"Angela, tonight we're throwing Vera a makeup birthday party. You stay put at home and don't go making trouble."

4: 4

I dragged in a breath and forced the shaking down.

"Open the door. I won't cause any trouble."

"Angela, you lost your mind in front of a room full of people yesterday. What wouldn't you do at this point?"

Simon's voice was thick with impatience.

"Look, we're taking Vera out to buy a new dress now."

Dad said it like an afterthought.

"We'll pack you some food when we get back tonight."

The door slammed, and the hallway outside went dead quiet.

I lay curled on the bed, and my stomach, emptied out from throwing up, cramped again with hunger.

The pain spread like cold water, from my stomach out through the rest of me.

There was nothing to eat in the room.

I would just have to hold on until they came home that night.

In the end I don't know if it was the low blood sugar or the pain.

My mind went hazy, and I blacked out.

I don't know how long it was before the smell of smoke choked me awake.

I opened my eyes to find black smoke, from somewhere, filling the whole room.

I scrambled off the bed, my hand landing on the door handle before I remembered Mom had locked it from the outside.

I threw the window open.

Below me, the ground floor was on fire.

Covering my mouth and nose, I called my parents and Simon.

I called; they hung up.

On the twenty-ninth call, Simon finally picked up.

"Hello?"

"There's a fire downstairs. The whole apartment is full of smoke. Come home and open the door, hurry."

"Don't be scared, I'm coming right now!"

His voice was frantic.

"Angela! You're lying again to wreck Vera's birthday party. How convenient, the minute you're locked in you've got an emergency?"

Mom's furious shout came through the phone.

The smoke had me coughing without stop.

"That cough sounds so real. Angela, you almost had me."

Simon sounded let down.

I pushed the words out through the suffocation.

"I'm not lying. If you don't believe me I'll show you on video."

The second I hung up I switched to a video call.

I aimed the phone out the window at the black smoke pouring up from the flames below.

"Look."

On screen, Mom and Simon went white in an instant.

Then Vera's face squeezed in between them, pointing at the screen, laughing out loud.

"Sis, your AI really is convincing. Even Mom and Simon fell for it."

"Your company makes good products."

Simon remembered my work was in AI research.

His face went cold at once.

"If there's really a fire, call the fire department. What good is calling us? You just want to ruin Vera's birthday, don't you!"

The call ended.

The fire trucks had reached the complex gate long ago, but a few illegally parked cars were blocking the entrance and they couldn't get in.

The firefighters were still moving those cars now.

The smoke stung so badly I could barely keep my eyes open, and the suffocation closed in around me.

I pushed half my body out the window.

I clenched my teeth, shut my eyes, and jumped.

In the private room at the restaurant.

Dad was peeling shrimp for Vera, Mom was ladling soup into her bowl.

Beside them, Simon was taking her picture.

When he finished, Vera trotted over and rested her chin on Simon's shoulder to look at the photos.

"Simon, you made me look so pretty."

Her warm breath brushed against his ear.

Simon's shoulder stiffened, but he didn't push her away.

Just then the cousin from the aunt's side shot up out of his seat, his voice sharp.

"Uncle, Aunt, your complex is on fire! It's your building, the one where it happened."

The smile froze on Mom's face.

She quickly opened her phone.

The muted property group chat had over a hundred unread messages.

She tapped into one of the videos.

Through the smoke, a figure fell from the high floor and hit the ground with a huge sound.

Simon caught a glimpse of the video, and his face went white in an instant.

He dialed Angela's number right away.

"Sorry, the number you have dialed is powered off"