Chapter 2

Mommy stormed home in a rage.

Daddy was still playing video games.

When he saw her come back, he didn’t even turn his head.

“Wasn’t Cassie at the playground?”

“She’s dead!

“That damn girl—when she comes back, I’ll beat her to death!”

Daddy’s fingers never paused on the keyboard.

“Don’t talk like that.

“You’re at fault too. If you hadn’t altered the dress you promised Cassie to fit Bella instead, Cassie wouldn’t have run out in anger.”

Mommy exploded at the slightest provocation and suddenly hurled a sofa cushion at Daddy.

“How is that my fault?”

“That performance dress was something Bella urgently needed! Cassie has so many dresses—what difference does one more make?”

“When you put it that way, Cassie wasn’t wrong to say you were biased!” Daddy retorted.

“Biased? Bella is younger. What’s wrong with letting her have her way? Shouldn’t Cassie, as the older sister, know better?

“I spend tens of thousands every year on Cassie’s tutoring—doesn’t that count as favoring her too?”

“Know better? Is that what you call being scolded so badly she doesn’t dare come home?” Daddy challenged.

“That’s because she has a guilty conscience! Who knows where she’s hiding, having fun on purpose just to anger me!” Mommy replied in growing anger.

My parents shouted back and forth, neither giving an inch.

They did not notice a small figure crouched in the corner of the living room, covering her ears in terror.

She was still wearing the dress I had never worn before—the one that had been taken back to the mall and exchanged for a smaller size.

I drifted over, hugged my knees, and curled up across from her, staring at the dress on her body.

It was blue, studded with rhinestones, and very beautiful as it glittered brightly.

Like the dress Cinderella wore in cartoons.

Daddy had promised long ago that he would buy it for me if I passed my exam.

I studied desperately for a long time, and finally, I passed.

But on the day the dress arrived, Bella cried and said she wanted to wear a princess dress for her kindergarten performance.

Without another word, Mommy took the dress and the receipt and went to the mall to exchange it for the smallest size.

“Cassie, you’re the older sister. Give in to Bella. I’ll buy you something better next time.”

There was no next time.

I lowered my head and looked at the dress I was wearing, washed until it had faded.

At the lower right corner were a few ink stains splashed onto the hem by my deskmate, stains that no amount of washing could remove.

Bella’s expression grew more and more unfocused.

Every time she heard my name, her body trembled.

At last, she could no longer bear it and burst into loud, wrenching sobs.

“Cassie ran! Cassie ran away!”

My parents’ fierce argument came to an abrupt halt.

Mommy hurried over, pulled Bella into her arms, and gently patted her back.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I was wrong. I scared you, didn’t I?

“It’s all Cassie’s fault for running off. When she comes back, we’ll punish her!”

Daddy also walked over.

He sighed, his voice weary.

“All right, all right. Don’t cry. Tomorrow, Daddy’ll buy you a doll, okay?”

But Bella cried harder than ever, hysterical, endlessly calling out to me.

That night, Bella developed a high fever.

Mommy held Bella’s hand, her face drawn with exhaustion as she stroked it again and again.

In the silence, she sounded as if she were talking to herself, her voice hoarse as she complained, “Cassie has always been trouble. Now she won’t even come home, and she still has to torment us like this…

“If she hadn’t been so disobedient and run off, how would she have frightened you like this?

“How would you have gotten a fever…

“If she had even a shred of conscience, she should come back on her own and admit her mistake…”

I stood on the other side of the hospital bed, watching Mommy’s worn yet gentle profile.

When she looked at Bella, the pain and tenderness in her eyes were so unmistakably real.

I had longed for that kind of tenderness countless times in my dreams, even if only once.

Now that I saw it with my own eyes, it was not for me.

A sharp ache rose in my chest.

So it turned out that even ghosts could feel sorrow.

I slowly reached out my hand, wanting to touch Mommy’s hair, loosened by exhaustion, wanting to tell her to stop scolding me, as I was never coming back.

My fingertips still passed straight through, causing not even a ripple.

Apart from making Bella sick and giving Mommy one more reason to complain about me, my death left nothing at all.