Chapter 3

But I died before the results came out.

Right up to my death, I still couldn't become an outstanding child like my brother.

A child my parents loved.

I watched them fill my brother's empty bowl with rice and quietly add food.

The same scene had repeated every day for eight years.

Wasn't I the one who'd made them this way?

The one who'd killed him?

Perhaps someone like me really did deserve to die.

Then came a knock.

And a voice familiar from memory.

“Mom! Dad! Open up! I've brought your daughter-in-law home!”

I saw my usually composed father jump to his feet.

His bowl fell and shattered.

Mom, always so quick, went limp and dropped into her chair.

Tears streamed down her face.

She kept asking Dad, “Is it him?”

“Is it really him?”

Dad stumbled to the door, his limbs moving awkwardly together.

He gripped the handle for a long time before opening it with a trembling hand.

The door swung wide.

A tall man stood outside.

I recognized him immediately.

My brother.

The brother I'd spent eight years accused of killing.

Dad's voice was hoarse.

“Xiaojing...”

“Is it really you?”

My brother nodded hard, his own eyes red.

“Dad...”

“It's me.”

“I'm home!”

My quiet father suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace.

Both hands kept patting his son's back.

“You're alive...”

“You're warm...”

“My son...”

“Your mother and I...”

“We've waited eight years...”

“You're finally back...”

“My son! My Xiaojing's home!”

Mom rushed over, seized his arms, and collapsed into him, sobbing.

“Where have you been all these years? Why didn't you even call?”

Red-eyed, he soothed her gently.

“Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I only wanted to build a career and make you proud. I didn't mean to keep it from you.”

Crying, Mom struck him lightly.

Eight years of longing and suffering dissolved into choked sobs.

Dad supported her and studied him.

“The plane crash... were you hurt?”

“Yes,” Mom sobbed. “We searched for eight years. No one on that plane survived. We thought you...”

He guided them to the sofa and thumped his chest.

“Don't worry. I wasn't on that plane.”

“Oh, right!”

He brought forward a woman whose belly was already rounded and introduced her with a smile.

“This is my wife. Your daughter-in-law, Huihui.”

Dad had an excellent memory.

One look, and he recognized Zhao Hui, the girlfriend they'd forced my brother to break up with eight years earlier.

His voice trembled.

“So... you disappeared for eight years because you eloped with her?”

My brother immediately knelt to apologize.

He produced a pile of expensive gifts, hoping to make amends.

He'd admitted it.

Eight years ago, he'd faked his death to run away with the woman he loved.

The enormity of the injustice hit me like a boulder.

At his funeral, my parents had screamed in hatred, “Why weren't you the one who died?”

Every year, they'd made me kneel at his grave.

Every day, plain rice with water.

Forced to eat seafood until I nearly died.

Beaten by Mom in the hospital.

Shut out by everyone.

Called a walking curse.

Bullied at school.

So many sleepless nights of guilt and regret, tormenting me day after day.

Dad's white hair.

Mom's bent back.

Eight years of remorse.

Eight years of hatred.

And my death.

All of it, just to make my brother's love story possible.

Ridiculous.

Utterly ridiculous.

Mom glared at Dad and defended my brother.

“What matters is Xiaojing's home safely. We're going to be grandparents. Why bring all that up?”

Dad pressed his lips together, then nodded.

“Yes... as long as he's home.”

They became the gentle, loving parents they'd once been.

The warmth of that scene made envy hurt inside me.

So they did know how to protect their child.

Yet when I'd been bullied at school and begged them for help, Mom had scolded me.

“Why do they bully you and nobody else? It takes two to make trouble. If there weren't something wrong with you, who'd waste their time picking on you?”

I'd looked at Dad, my eyes red.

Mom had sneered at him.

“Look at your daughter, Lin. She's about to start acting pitiful again. As though the whole world owes her. That wretched look every day. I can't stand it.”

Dad's warning had been cold.

“Stop acting, Lin Yan.”

“Disgusting.”

This was the brother I'd prayed day and night would return safely.

But no one had told me the truth would be so bloody and cruel.

Maybe I really was as wicked as my parents said.

Then my brother suddenly asked, “Where's Yanyan? I brought her birthday presents for every year from ten to eighteen.”

Only then did my parents seem to remember me.

They hurried to get up, intending to fetch me from the cemetery.

My brother was startled.

“The cemetery? What's she doing there?”

Dad was silent.

Mom answered casually.

“Every year on the anniversary of the crash, we make her go and kneel at your grave. But that wretched girl never repents, so this year I added two days.”

“What?”

“How could you do that to Yanyan?”

“No one can kneel without moving for three days!”

“Have you called her?”

My brother was so agitated his eyes reddened.

There was pain and pity in them.

Before, he'd loved me even more than our parents had.

He'd saved his pocket money to take me out for good food.

When I got into trouble, he'd taken the blame.

If someone bullied me, he'd get battered himself but leave the other person worse off to avenge me.

He'd been the best brother in the world.

My own hero.

But now...

I didn't dare believe in you anymore.

Mom curled her lip.

“She's old enough. What could happen?”

“Mom!”

“Stop!”

My brother grabbed the car keys and rushed outside, his steps unsteady.

“I'm going to find her!”

But I'd long since become pieces of flesh on the autopsy table.

Even Dad hadn't recognized me.

How could you find me?

Three hours later, he returned through the rain.

Soaked to the skin.

His face was grave.

“Yanyan isn't there.”

“Mom, Dad...”

“She's missing.”

Mom only fussed a little and handed him a dry towel.

“Go upstairs and change. I've kept your room exactly as it was. Don't catch cold.”

As she said that, did she think of me?

Her child kneeling in the cemetery in the pouring rain?

My brother let the towel fall.

His usually straight back curved.

His lips trembled.

“Mom. Dad.”

“I said...”

“Yanyan is missing!”

Dad tried awkwardly to reassure him.

“It's fine.”

“She often sulks and pretends to disappear.”

“She'll be hiding at a friend's.”

“She's always like that.”

“Don't worry.”

But Dad.

My only friend...

Hadn't you driven her out of the police station yourself?

Habit was a frightening thing.

They knew now that they'd wronged me.

That I'd endured eight years of humiliation.

Yet while my brother searched, neither of them had called me once.

He dropped onto the sofa and clutched his head in remorse.

“It's all my fault...”

“I made her suffer so much.”

“She'll never forgive me.”

Mom, Dad, and my sister-in-law gathered around to comfort him.

In that moment, I seemed to change from the person who'd killed my brother into the person making the whole family miserable.

Dad spoke firmly.

“When Yanyan comes home, we'll all treat her better.”

“We'll make it up to her.”

But Dad.

I couldn't come home anymore.

There would be no afterward.

The next day, he worked on the reconstruction of my skull, little by little.

Brows.

Eyes.

Nose.

Lips.

Slowly, they appeared.

When he finished, he leaned back slightly.

The instant he saw the reconstructed face that looked exactly like mine, his expression froze.