The Daughter They Optimized Away

For as long as I could remember, a family scorecard hung by our front door like a corporate dashboard.

At the end of the semester, my older sister Ava ranked first in her class, and Dad stuck a bright gold star beside her name.

I had studied until my eyes burned, but my score still came in exactly three points lower than hers.

Dad shook his head in disappointment and drew a huge red mark beside my name.

"Mia, do you know how much money you cost this family this month?"

He tapped at his calculator and said in a cold, businesslike tone, "Tutoring, supplements, private coaching. Five thousand dollars altogether. Terrible return on investment."

"Starting next month, your allowance is in the negative by two thousand. You can work it off by taking over every chore in this house."

Ava's eyes curved into a smile.

"Mia, according to the performance rules, starting today you have to handle my laundry for a whole year."

I clenched my fists, but all I could do was nod.

That night, I hid in the bathroom and searched how to raise grades fast. A strange forum link flashed onto my screen.

"Do you want to make a trade?"

"Give up what is yours. Receive what you desire."

"Tap to begin."

I stared at the forum until my fingertips went cold.

"Give up what is mine. Receive what I desire?"

But what did I even have?

All I had were grades that never rose high enough.

All I had was a debt I could never pay off.

All I had were chores that never ended.

All I had was my name sitting under that cold red mark on the scorecard by the door.

Maybe none of that was worth anything. Maybe none of it could buy what I wanted.

After hesitating for a long time, I was about to close the page when I heard my parents talking outside.

"What happened to Mia this time? Why did she mess up again? Is the pressure getting to her?" Mom's voice carried its usual exhaustion as she sighed. "Her total score was three full points lower than Ava's. Her ranking dropped, too."

"At this rate, even Westbridge Academy will be out of reach."

Dad let out a low, dismissive laugh.

Then I heard the calculator reset with a hard click.

My entire body flinched on instinct.

I knew that sound too well. Dad pressed that button every time he calculated the cost of raising me. The sound had carved fear into my bones.

Sure enough, his voice turned sharp with disgust.

"Do the math. Tutoring, private coaching, those so-called brain supplements. Which one of them doesn't cost money?"

"We've thrown almost five thousand dollars at her. For what? The sound of money going down a drain?"

"I just told her. The return on investment is frighteningly low. She's a bad investment. The fundamentals are terrible. Keep pouring money in, and it still comes back as a loss."

He had said things like that countless times.

Still, my heart clenched so hard that the bar of soap slipped from my hand and splashed into the basin.

"Then should we stop her supplements next month?" Mom asked, lowering her voice.

I could still hear every word.

"Ava's grades improved after taking them, so they work for her. Mia takes them and nothing happens. We might as well stop wasting money."

Dad agreed without a second of hesitation.

"Stop them.

"Cancel the tutoring and coaching, too. It's all a waste anyway. Our resources are limited. Ava is the one with potential. She's the one who can make this family proud.

"As for Mia... she can at least be useful around the house. A live-in housekeeper isn't bad."

My heart dropped.

Were my parents giving up on me?

Footsteps suddenly came toward the bathroom.

I fumbled to stuff my phone into the pocket of my pajamas, then plunged my hands back into the freezing water and scrubbed Ava's laundry as hard as I could.

To save money, my parents never let me use hot water for laundry.

My hands were covered in chilblains. The cracked skin burned whenever I touched anything.

My parents pretended not to see it.

But when Ava got a tiny hangnail, they rushed her to urgent care like the world was ending.

There were two symbolic knocks on the bathroom door.

Then Mom raised her voice.

"Mia, hurry up. Stop dragging your feet. After you finish, mop the living room.

"Your sister has an early honors class tomorrow. Don't make noise and disturb her."

"Okay..."

Only after hearing my answer did Mom leave, satisfied.

I leaned against the cold tile wall and slowly slid down until I was sitting on the floor.

The words they had used buzzed inside my skull.

Bad investment.

Waste.

Maid.

Was that really all I was?

With shaking hands, I took out my phone and opened the forum again.