Chapter 1Brother, I Wish I’d Never Been Born

I had one month left to live when my brother threw me out of the house.

I found an old video camera, wanting to record one last message for myself.

"Holly, in your next life, don't be born into this family again. It's not a role you can bear."

But the moment I turned it on, it started playing a video automatically.

My brother was smiling, holding the camera.

"I swear," his younger voice said, "I promised Mom I would protect my sister with my life. I'll never let anyone hurt her."

I froze, a tear tracing a path down my cheek.

"But... I don't want to be your sister anymore," I whispered.

To my shock, the boy in the video suddenly stared straight at me, his expression defiant.

"Who are you? What gives you the right to say that?"

…

I stood stunned, watching as the little figure on the screen looked around the room in the video.

"Who's talking? Is that my sister?"

In the video, my mother gently touched my brother's head, her face full of loving confusion.

"Owen, honey, it's just us in the living room. You must have misheard."

Seeing the warm, kind woman on the screen, my tears began to flow freely. My mother died in childbirth when I was born. I had never met her.

And my brother, Owen, had become the person who hated me most in the world.

Young Owen looked bewildered, waving his hand dismissively.

"I guess I heard wrong. I thought I heard… I thought I heard my sister say she didn't want to be my sister."

His expression was a mixture of hurt and confusion, and he looked down at his mother’s pregnant belly, his eyes welling up.

"How could that be possible?" she soothed. "Owen is the best big brother in the world. Your sister will be so excited to meet you."

Watching this scene, a bitter smile touched my lips.

Owen really was the best brother in the world.

But he wasn't my brother anymore.

In the camera's memory, young Owen nodded, his face breaking into a grin.

"I can't wait to meet her, either. I bet she'll be really cute."

A tightness gripped my chest. I turned the camera off, the idea of recording anything forgotten. Staring into the darkness of my tiny rental room, I took a deep breath and forced myself to my feet to open the curtains.

Every step sent a jolt of pain through my torso, as if my organs were being twisted into knots.

When I finally pulled the curtains back, the first rays of morning light streamed in, illuminating my reflection in the glass.

I had wasted away to just seventy-four pounds. My body was little more than a skeleton, my cheekbones jutting out sharply over a gaunt face. Only my eyes seemed alive, large and dark in their hollowed sockets.

Even I was frightened by my own appearance.

I quickly grabbed a hat and a mask, pulling them on. My body felt lost inside my baggy clothes, almost swaying with the motion.

Holly, your life is anything but holy.

I laughed at the cruel irony and picked up my phone.

The screen saver was a photo of Owen and me. And another girl… the sister whose hand he was holding. I was standing off to the side, clutching a ragged doll, too afraid to step closer.

It was the only picture I had with him.

The other girl in the photo, Ivy, was the one who was truly his sister. She was beautiful and sweet, everything he imagined a sister should be, and he gave her the world.

I was four years old the day Ivy was brought home.

I was crouching in a corner, playing with the ragged doll Owen had tossed to me once, and I stood up when he walked in, holding Ivy’s hand.

"You're scaring Ivy," he said, shielding her behind him before turning his cold eyes on me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Ivy peeked out from behind him, her wide eyes fixed on me.

"Brother, is she your sister, too?"

"No. I only have one sister, and that's you." Owen smiled, ruffling Ivy's hair.

My own eyes went wide.

I asked him, "Then, brother… what am I?"

If Ivy is your only sister, then what am I?

"You're just someone living in our house," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "When Ivy turns eighteen, we'll send you away."

Then he turned and left with Ivy, without giving me so much as a second glance.