Born As Kidney Donor For My Sister Novel by BEIJITA

Amidst the cheers from the audience, I made my way to the control booth.

The staff was methodically managing the lights, so I walked over and said, “The person on stage is my sister. She’s a bit unhappy with the content on the big screen and asked me to change it. Could I please do so?”

After fabricating this excuse, the staff agreed.

I then turned to them and said, “Today is my sister’s debut. I’d like to handle it personally.

You all can take a break.”

After learning the basic operations, the staff stepped aside.

I connected my phone and began uploading the video.

There was a delay before the video would start playing, but I wasn’t in a rush.

I’d waited seven years–I could wait a little longer.

After a moment, I heard gasps from the audience and knew the video had begun to play.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

The staff assumed Charlotte was dazzling the audience with her performance, so they didn’t intervene.

That’s when I left the control booth and slowly walked onto the stage.

On the big screen, the video of me being held down in the frozen lake played clearly.

The voice in the video unmistakably belonged to Charlotte, who was on stage.

She looked on in disbelief, frantically jumping up to try and cover the screen.

But the screen was far too large, and after a long struggle, she barely managed to cover a small corner.

“This video is fake! Fake! Don’t watch it.”

“Someone edited this video to frame me! That person in the video isn’t me!”

As I stepped onto the stage, I coldly glared a Charlotte. “But, sister, this video came from your phone!”

“Did you forget what happened when you recorded it? You said you were afraid I’d steal

Mom and Dad’s love, so you wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“You said you were the only princess in this family and told me to stay away.”

“You also said you’d keep this video forever so you could watch it whenever you wanted.”

As I spoke, Charlotte’s face grew paler and paler until she finally collapsed to the floor, completely drained of color.

“You’re lying! It’s not true! You’re slandering me!”

But everyone could see what was really happening. The reporters, who had expected to just cover a piano recital, were now raising their cameras to capture this explosive story.

My parents–Mr. and Mrs. Smith–stood frozen in disbelief, staring at the stage.

No one moved.

Perhaps they were too afraid.

Afraid to discover that their precious daughter wasn’t as innocent as they had thought.

Afraid to admit that their little princess had done something wrong and couldn’t bear to punish her; Or maybe they feared the truth would be too hard to accept.

With one hand, I forcibly pressed Charlotte’s head to the ground.

“Charlotte, don’t be upset. You’ll soon have nothing at all.”

I relentlessly pushed those video segments in front of everyone’s eyes, making them watch my despair over and over.

I wanted them to understand that I had never wronged the Smiths.

All along, I had been the one who was tormented.