You Told Me to Leave

I was born a little slow to understand things. At five, the neighbor promised to come by for dinner whenever they had time, and from then on I showed up at their door every day with a bowl, eating there for thirteen straight years. At ten, my homeroom teacher refused to let me go home until I finished my homework, so I stayed at school for three days. Then, at eighteen, my wealthy birth parents found me and I became the real daughter who had been switched at birth. When the fake heiress saw that my room was bigger than hers, she said with red eyes, "Sister is the one who belongs here. I was never meant to stay in this family." She even said, "I'll leave now and return everything to my elder sister." I nodded and spent that night packing twenty-eight boxes for her. When my elder brother found out, he was furious and asked why I did that. I said, "Didn't she say she was leaving on her own?" I never expected him to pick up a knife...