There were three of us on the bed, inside the room. My mum was sleeping.
Asna and I, on the other hand were chatting.
Then, she rolled on the bed and hugged my mum (who was still sleeping). While she was doing that, she was looking at me with a smug face worthy of a slap, trying to ignite the jealousy in me by saying:
“She loves me the most!”
I really couldn’t give a damn. But since she was at it:
“No, she doesn’t. She loves me the most. I’m the first. You’re adopted.”
She argued, but was still calm.
“No, I’m not. She gave birth to me! You’re adopted.”
While we were still at it, my brother came into the room. Good timing. So I sought help:
“Asna says she’s Mama’s child and we’re adopted. Siapa yang adopted, again?”
And he pointed to her.
“We’re your foster family.”
Little girl threw a fist in the air.
“You’re trying to make me sad, huh!”
Asna’s attempt totally backfired.
In case you’re wondering… no, she’s not adopted.