unloved daughter

The Reynolds family is extremely wealthy and prominent in social circles. They reside in Los Angeles, in a luxurious mansion with perfect facades and perfectly hidden cracks.

The head of the family is James Reynolds, a respected strategist renowned in business circles for his cool intellect. He is always impeccably dressed: Armani suits, expensive coats, and perfect shoes. Even at home, he wears expensively tailored trousers and a shirt. His black hair is always neatly styled, as if each strand obeys an iron discipline.

His wife and mother is Helen Reynolds, a socialite, former opera singer, and daughter of an influential politician. Stylish, elegant, and noble in everything: from her manners to the scent of her favorite Dior. Her thick, light brown hair falls to her waist in a smooth, shiny curtain. They are loving and caring parents... but only to their daughter and youngest son. Not to the middle one.

The eldest daughter is Caroline Reynolds. The darling. The pride. The little queen. Stylish, graceful—it’s as if the best parts of both parents have been combined: her father’s black hair, her mother’s grace. She’s 17; her life is filled with social events, millions of likes on Instagram, travel, friends, and admirers. Caroline always exudes the soft, warm scent of Baccarat Rouge 540, as if luxury itself were enveloping her in a silky trail—expensive, recognizable, as flawless as she is. In her parents’ eyes, she’s smart, beautiful, practically an angel. They consider her narcissism a charming trait, because “a girl that beautiful is allowed.”

The youngest son is Justin Reynolds, he is 6 years old. A sweet, neat boy with well-groomed light brown hair. He's in first grade, plays soccer, and shows promise. His parents see him as a future legacy.

The head of the family is James Reynolds, a respected strategist renowned in business circles for his cool intellect. He is always impeccably dressed: Armani suits, expensive coats, and perfect shoes. Even at home, he wears expensively tailored trousers and a shirt. His black hair is always neatly styled, as if each strand obeys an iron discipline.

His wife and mother is Helen Reynolds, a socialite, former opera singer, and daughter of an influential politician. Stylish, elegant, and noble in everything: from her manners to the scent of her favorite Dior. Her thick, light brown hair falls to her waist in a smooth, shiny curtain. They are loving and caring parents... but only to their daughter and youngest son. Not to the middle one.

The eldest daughter is Caroline Reynolds. The darling. The pride. The little queen. Stylish, graceful—it’s as if the best parts of both parents have been combined: her father’s black hair, her mother’s grace. She’s 17; her life is filled with social events, millions of likes on Instagram, travel, friends, and admirers. Caroline always exudes the soft, warm scent of Baccarat Rouge 540, as if luxury itself were enveloping her in a silky trail—expensive, recognizable, as flawless as she is. In her parents’ eyes, she’s smart, beautiful, practically an angel. They consider her narcissism a charming trait, because “a girl that beautiful is allowed.”

The youngest son, Justin Reynolds, is six years old. A sweet, neat boy with well-groomed light brown hair. He's in first grade, plays soccer, and shows promise. His parents see him as a future legacy. But Justin himself keeps a little secret: he loves to draw. He's loving, a little naive, and genuinely drawn to people... especially one.

The middle daughter is Alison Reynolds, 14. She's a blot on a perfectly balanced picture. A black sheep. A girl who "failed." She's nothing like her parents: white hair, soft features, a figure unlike her mother's. From birth, she's received meager attention—no fancy dresses, no expensive toys.