Chapter 1

Raymond's POV

I looked into Joyce Sinclair's bloodshot eyes and asked calmly, "Are you unhappy with the terms of this agreement? I'm willing to leave with nothing to fulfill his wish."

Joyce shoved me away and rasped, "When you posted those photos on the internet, why didn't you think about fulfilling his wish? When you wanted to drag everyone down with you, why didn't you think about sparing me then? Why are you pretending to be magnanimous now?"

Gazing at her, a sharp pang struck my chest again. "You're right, I was out of my mind. Now that I've come to my senses, I'm setting you free. Isn't this what you want?"

Joyce was rendered speechless. Her chest heaved violently, like a trapped beast with nowhere to vent its fury.

Bryan Long's eyes were brimming with tears as he choked out, "I'm sorry, Joyce. I shouldn't have made that wish. Please don't fight because of me." Right after saying that, he raised his hand and slapped himself twice.

Joyce immediately grabbed his hand and gently reassured him, "It's not your fault. I let my emotions get the best of me. I prepared a surprise for you at the beach. Let's go celebrate your birthday!"

Joyce led him outside. When she passed me, she paused for a beat. "I don't want to argue with you, Ray. Let's talk when I get home." The front door clicked shut.

I slowly rose to my feet and threw the cake into the trash. Then, I took the paycheck I'd just collected for the month and went to Mom and Dad's house.

Unsurprisingly, the door to the old apartment was locked tight. I took a deep breath and knocked on it. It was dead silent inside.

Suppressing the lump in my throat, I softened my tone and pleaded, "Mom, Dad, you haven't spoken to me in three years. Please... just talk to me!"

Still, no one answered. Tears dripped onto the floor, spreading into dark, damp stains.

Three years ago, at my older sister Rachel Lovett's funeral, Mom and Dad publicly severed all ties with me. From then on, no matter how much I cried and begged, this door never creaked open.

I slipped the money through the gap beneath the door and turned to leave. I wandered aimlessly down the street until I found myself at the beach, where Rachel and I used to play all the time when we were kids.

I was about to take a picture and head home when I spotted several familiar figures inside a seaside restaurant. Bryan, who was beside Joyce, wore a birthday hat, making a wish with a bright smile on his face. Mom and Dad sat beside them with tender smiles.

I instinctively walked over, and through the glass window, I watched as Mom set a plate of spaghetti down. "Happy birthday, Bry!"

Bryan leaned against her shoulder and chirped, "Thanks, Ma!"

Dad pulled out a bank card and slid it toward Bryan. "I'm getting old, and I don't understand you youngsters like these days. There's 100 grand on this card. Go get yourself whatever you want."

Bryan's eyes lit up. "You're the best, Pops! I'll be your real son in my next life."

Joyce smiled and booped his nose. "That's not all. I have another surprise for you!"

She clapped her hands, and as melodious classical music began to play, a figure wheeled a birthday cake toward them. As the figure drew closer, the blurred face gradually came into focus. My eyes widened, and the blood in my veins ran cold in an instant.

Rachel's voice rang out with piercing clarity. "Happy 25th birthday, Bry!"