Chapter 3

"I saw Dad. I didn't see Miles. Dad said Miles went to catch mice again. He's still so naughty at his age."

Helen's tone was full of disdain as she summarized what she'd seen.

I leaned in and looked at Dad on the video call.

His hair was combed back until it shone. He wore an expensive suit, and his skin looked good.

Everything about him carried the air of wealth that money brings.

Behind him was a bright, finely decorated home.

A pang of bitterness went through me.

So they had been living well in the city all along.

Like a fool, I'd always thought life in the city must have been hard for them.

That was why I never dared to call.

The only time I called was three days before I starved to death.

Maybe after pain has piled up long enough, it no longer makes waves.

I just stood numbly beside Helen.

"Honey," Dad said after thinking for a moment, "why don't we bring Dad and Miles to the city?

"No one is left in the village. It's inconvenient for Miles to go to school there. Dad is old too. Our situation is better now."

My shattered heart was stitched together a little, and my eyes shone with surprise.

Mom didn't love me, but Dad still cared.

I stared at Dad and smiled.

Even though he couldn't see me.

Helen sighed deeply. Her sigh was full of disappointment, disgust, and hopelessness.

She covered her nose and walked back into the house, pointing the camera inside.

"Look. Miles has turned the house into a landfill.

"I want to bring him back too, but look at how filthy he is. How am I supposed to bring him home like this?"

I felt terribly wronged and muttered stiffly, "I'm not filthy."

What can a five-year-old do?

I've been dead for five years, and you still don't know.

"Let me see Brother's house! I want to see!"

A bright, lively voice came from the video. An eight-year-old boy in a little suit appeared on the screen, looking like a small prince.

He was my little brother, Mason.

He had been raised so well. His skin was tender and pale, smooth as porcelain.

Confident. Lively. Like the little prince of a rich family.

The smile on his face vanished when he saw the broken-down house on the video.

His disgusted expression was exactly like Helen's.

"His house is so dirty. Even a landfill isn't that dirty.

"I won't let him come to our house. He's so unhygienic. He'll bring in so many germs!"

Oh.

So in their hearts, I wasn't family.

Daniel hurriedly pulled Mason into his arms and coaxed him, "All right, all right. We'll listen to our little prince. We won't bring your brother back yet.

"When he fixes his hygiene habits and becomes a clean child, we'll bring him back, okay?"

Mason pouted arrogantly and tugged Daniel's hand. "Let him see my room. When his room is as clean as mine, then he can come."

With complete superiority, Mason showed every corner of his room to the camera.

"Mom, let him see what a boy's room is supposed to look like.

"I don't want a brother who lives in a trash heap."

I stared at Mason's room.

He had a soft, beautifully designed prince-style bed.

The room was bright and cute, with an entire cabinet of neatly arranged toys and figurines.

His room was huge, connected to a transparent walk-in closet.

Inside, clothes of every color and style hung in rows.

The carpet was white and fluffy, like clouds underfoot.

I just looked at it, my mind going blank.

My heart was already full of holes. I couldn't even find the strength to hate or resent them.

"Your brother is only like this because he's in the countryside. Once he comes to the city, he won't be like that anymore.

"When your brother comes, you'll have one more person to play with and one more person to take care of you. Isn't that good?"

Daniel's coaxing words stabbed my heart like knives.

I hated that sentence most of all.

You're the older brother, so you should take care of him. You should give way to your little brother.