Two months after I died, it finally occurred to my parents that they'd forgotten to bring me back from their trip. My father scowled in frustration. "She was supposed to walk back herself. Does she really need to make such a big deal out of it?" My brother, ever smug, opened our chat and sent an emoji, along with a message. [You'd better die out there. That way, Scarlett and I will split Grandma's inheritance.] He received no reply. With a frosty expression, my mother said, "Tell her if she shows up for her grandmother's birthday on time, I'll let the whole pushing-Scarlett-into-the-water thing go." They never believed I hadn't made it out of those woods. After digging six feet into the ground, they finally found my bones deep in the forest.
View MoreThe news of my tragic and despairing death shattered my mother, bringing her to the brink of collapse. Every day, she clung to the silk scarf I had gifted her, tears flowing freely as she held it close. My father, though in deep pain, managed to maintain a certain restraint, embodying the stoicism expected of men. He took care of my mother, who seemed lost in a fog of grief, working tirelessly to keep their fractured family together. Aunt Lillian came to comfort my mother, sharing stories that my mother had never had the patience to hear before. "Do you remember when Whitney was in elementary school?" Aunt Lillian asked gently. "She entered an art competition and would spend every evening after finishing her homework, sketching away until late into the night. She didn't feel tired at all! When she won, she rushed home to show you first. She loved you so much, always thinking of you. "But on the walls of your home, only the awards and artwork of your other two children were
Scarlett clenched her hands tightly, panic coursing through her.But there was no stopping the police from continuing. "We found several deleted messages on her phone."The coroner's report confirms Whitney died after being buried alive. Those last few calls she made to you were her cries for help. But you didn't answer a single one."My mother's face drained of color. "How is that possible? I was waiting for her to call and apologize, but she never did!"She quickly pulled out her phone, confronting the officers, only to find a record of my rejected calls buried in the trash folder.At that moment, my mother's phone had been in Scarlett's hands. She sat there completely motionless, as if her soul had been sucked out.Scarlett, flustered, tried to explain, "I-I was just upset with her. She pushed me, so I didn't let my mom answer her calls. I never wanted her to get hurt!""She was out in the wilderness and made so many calls, and you, her sister, chose to ignore it?""I…" Sc
In the interrogation room, my mother held Scarlett close, her voice soothing yet firm. "I'm the guardian of this child. You can direct all the questions at me. Scarlett is still young; she can't handle being scared like this."Scarlett nestled against my mother while trembling slightly, looking genuinely pitiful and helpless.The officers exchanged glances, one of them smirking, "She's twenty-six; she's not that young!"My mother gently patted Scarlett's back, trying to calm her nerves. She raised her gaze to the officers. "I understand you're just doing your job, but Scarlett truly knows nothing. Even though she and Whitney are sisters, they live their own lives.""We received a report that someone was caught gambling in a rented apartment yesterday. The officers in Acturia found some of Whitney's belongings in that apartment. Was it Scarlett who went to retrieve them?"My mother paused, her mind racing. "Yes. I just handed over her phone and ID. But I thought the person was a th
My grandmother's sixtieth birthday party was a small gathering, limited to close relatives and dear friends.As the event unfolded, my parents were constantly scanning the room, searching for me. Even Flynn seemed taken aback. "Mom, Dad, is Whitney really not coming? What if something happened to her?"Scarlett smacked his hand lightly. "Stop being ridiculous. Whitney's an adult; she'll be fine."Her words seemed to ease my parents' worries.My mother sighed. "If that girl doesn't show up, all our relatives will start blaming us for not raising her right."Hearing this, I couldn't help but smile wryly.So that was what they were worried about. I had thought they were eagerly waiting for me out of concern.Setting that aside, my mother instructed Scarlett to take the opportunity to present a lavish gift to my grandmother, knowing she wouldn't dare act out in front of the guests.Scarlett beamed with excitement.My grandmother was a prominent entrepreneur in the city, wealthy
As soon as my mother answered the phone, she launched into a tirade. "You little brat, can you stop goading your grandmother into getting mad at me?"The voice on the other end was somber. "Hello, is this Whitney Patterson's family?"Hearing a man's voice made my mother frown. "What's going on? Why do you have Whitney's phone?""We found Whitney's ID and her phone in a rental apartment. Can you please come to the police station to verify some information?"My mother's furrowed brow relaxed slightly. "So that brat really moved out. She's always stirring up trouble." She hung up and resumed her meal nonchalantly. Scarlett glanced nervously at her. "Mom, isn't that about Whitney?""She lost her phone, and the police are asking us to get it. It can wait; we'll go after we finish eating."Scarlett's face tightened with worry. "Mom, I should go. Whitney is my sister, after all."My mother praised her for being so considerate before agreeing. I stood beside my mother, disappointm
My grandmother had disapproved of my mother's relationship with my father years ago, fearing the hardships they would face because he was broke.As a result, my mother had spent many nights drowning her sorrows in alcohol, only to be assaulted by a thug, which led to her pregnancy.At the time, she was still young, with many better options ahead of her.But she chose to punish my grandmother and make her feel guilty by insisting on giving birth to me.When I turned three, my mother caught a glimpse of my father's features on my face and took me for a paternity test.The results confirmed what she longed to hear: I was indeed my father's child, not that thug's.Elated, my mother used this revelation to win back my father.Yet, the couple always viewed me as a blemish in their pure love story, choosing to dump me, a young child, into my grandmother's care as they set off for a new life elsewhere.At that time, my father had just divorced his first wife, and Flynn was already two.
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