“Miss Hannah, you can still wait for another compatible soul,” said the therapist in a gentle voice.
I shook my head slightly.
There was no point in waiting any longer.
Everything I valued before no longer matters.
I just signed the discharge papers when my phone rang.
“Hannah, here’s your chance to make amends.”
“Lisa wants some beef soup. Hurry up and bring it over.”
Before I could respond, my mother hung up.
Back then, I would have argued.
Now, I no longer had the strength.
I carried the beef soup into the hospital room.
My mother was sitting by the bed, patiently wiping Lisa’s sweat.
My father stood nearby, watching her nervously, afraid she might frown in discomfort.
In that room, I was the only one who felt like a stranger.
Lisa was the first to acknowledge me.
“Hannah, come sit with us.”
My father turned around immediately. His brows furrowed, snatching the bowl of soup from my hands.
“What took you so long? Don’t you want to make soup for your sister?”
My mother glanced at the spilled broth and her face tightened in disapproval.
“Hannah, you can’t even handle something this simple?”
“She can barely drink this with how much you spilled.”
Then, she tossed the bowl straight into the trash.
I told myself not to feel anything, but a heavy stone pressed down on my chest, aching.
I stood there with a pale face, saying nothing.
“We’ve talked it over,” my father said suddenly.
“All our savings and property will go to Lisa—as your way of making it up to her.”
As he said that, he pulled a waiver of inheritance agreement out of the drawer.
“If it weren’t for you, Lisa would not be lying in a healing ward. Just sign it.”
I looked at the paper and smiled.
“All right.”
I signed it quickly and handed it over.
His expression softened the moment he took it from me.
Then I added,
“I’ll transfer all my personal assets and savings to her, too.”
At that, their eyes lit up with warmth.
My mother even took my hand and gave me a bright smile.
“Hannah, you really are my good daughter.”
“When Lisa recovers, we’ll start over—as a real family.”
Her sudden kindness felt almost ironic.
Only when I gave up everything did she remember I was her daughter.
If they ever discovered that Lisa’s sickness was nothing but a lie she had spun from the start, would they finally feel the kind of fury my soul once did?
Lisa noticed our mother leaning in, about to hug me. A hint of annoyance flashed across her eyes.
She gave a soft cough.
Just like that, my parents hurried back to her side.
Late that night, I returned home, my body heavy with illness.
I had barely stepped through the door, not even sat down, when Raine’s voice came from the hallway.
“Lisa’s getting discharged soon. I am letting her stay in the master bedroom, so it will be easier to take care of her.”
