Chapter 3The Wish

Seeing them furious but helpless, I knew my moment had come. I whipped out my phone, hit record, and aimed the camera straight at their shocked faces.

"See? All you had to do was admit you wanted him. No need to pin it on me."

"Hey, future-brother, what's up," I said to the camera. "Just so you know, for the record, I was completely against this. It was Mom and Dad's idea. So if your life sucks, you can blame them. Your big sister has nothing to do with it."

"There's no throne for you to inherit in this family, just a sink full of dirty dishes. You're being born to be a wage slave, a cog in the machine, another speck of cosmic dust."

"Mom and Dad brought you into this miserable world, but they don't have the means to give you a good life. You're on your own, kid."

"Good luck! We're all just trying to survive out here~"

I stopped the recording and calmly hit "save." On the screen, my parents' faces had gone from red to purple to a pasty, dead gray.

"You... you heartless monster!" my dad finally found his voice, screaming with pure, unadulterated rage. "You say no? Fine! We're having him anyway!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Go for it. Be my guest. Just remember what I said today."

I had my video evidence. In my last life, whenever things didn't go my brother's way, he took it out on me, physically. My parents would either pretend not to see or add fuel to the fire.

"You're the big sister. You should be more patient with him."

"If it wasn't for you wanting a brother, he wouldn't even be here."

"He has feelings. You need to be his punching bag."

This time, let's see how "patient" they are when they're the ones being blamed and screamed at.

When winter break ended, the first thing I did back at college was start posting my daily workouts on social media. I'd finish my last sprint, my sweat-soaked tank top clinging to my stomach. It was flat and toned, with zero signs of childbirth. I'd zoom in on my abs and hit record. "Two miles done! Let's get it again tomorrow!"

It was crucial to document my body's status during my mom's pregnancy. In my last life, I didn't know she was pregnant. I came home for the summer and was handed a baby. I was sitting outside with the newborn when a high school classmate walked by. She stared at my puffy, sleep-deprived eyes and the screaming baby in my arms. "Wow, Jessie," she blurted out. "You're only a junior and you already have a kid?"

My mother didn't correct her. Instead, a sly little smile played on her lips. "Oh, we just call him her little brother, hehe." She deliberately let people believe he was mine. No matter how much I tried to explain, no one believed me.

This time, I posted everywhere. Every day, a two-mile run. Hiking on weekends. Crunches in my dorm room at night. My roommates thought I'd lost my mind.

"Jessie, you're already so skinny! Why are you trying to kill yourself? You're making the rest of us look bad!"

They didn't understand. I was doing it to stay alive.

The semester flew by. I had killer abs to show for it. I had just posted a new ab-selfie to my Instagram story when my dad called.

"Summer break started two days ago. Why aren't you home yet?"

"I just sent you two hundred bucks. Buy a bus ticket. I expect you home tomorrow!"

Oh, here we go. They were summoning me home to be their free postpartum nurse.

I accepted the $200, then immediately bought a ticket on a bus heading south.

[Dad, I got a summer job at a factory with some friends. Won't be home.]

My parents were cheap. Even if I didn't come home, they'd never pay for a real nurse. And my dad was the laziest man alive. With him in charge of my mom's recovery, things were about to get very interesting at home.