Chapter 1

“Henry was accepted into that school before he died. You’re going there too!”

My teacher called to reason with Mom, but she cut him off with one sentence.

“If Henry hadn’t died, Harry would never have been born. What right does he have to become the top scorer?”

As I looked at her hysterical expression, I suddenly felt like everything was pointless.

If I had to copy my brother in everything, then I should not miss out on dying at 18 either.

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The day my community college acceptance letter arrived, several reporters appeared outside our house.

The moment Mom opened the door, microphones and cameras shoved their way inside.

“Are you the parents of Harry Stone, the top scorer? Was applying to a community college really Harry’s own decision?”

“Do you think it’s fair to sacrifice Harry’s future just to make up for the regrets of his late brother?”

The moment Mom heard their questions, she snapped. She pushed the reporters away and slammed the door shut. Then she grabbed me and dragged me to my brother’s memorial photo.

“Harry! Did you call those reporters here on purpose? I’m only asking you to attend the school your brother never got the chance to go to! And you’re acting like you’ve been wronged?”

The rattan cane struck my back again and again. I bit down on my lower lip until it bled.

Dad was furious and threw his teacup onto the floor. “So this is your way of going against us? You cheated your way into becoming the top scorer? Henry would never have done something like this!”

I was so hopeless that I almost laughed when I heard Dad’s words.

Back in middle school, I finally discovered that I was good at studying. The first time I came home as the top student in my entire school, I was greeted with a beating.

“Henry was always an average student. How could you possibly get such high scores?”

To keep from upsetting my parents, I learned to hold myself back. I deliberately kept my grades average, making sure I never outshone the son they remembered.

However, the SATs were the biggest turning point of my life, so I finally showed my true potential.

Instead of being proud of me, my parents changed my college application behind my back and then accused me of cheating to become the top scorer.

“I didn’t cheat. Just because Henry couldn’t get high scores doesn’t mean I can’t.” I straightened my back and, for the first time in my life, talked back to them.

Mom froze for a moment, clearly not expecting my answer. She stood there, pointing at me. “You…”

For a long time, that was the only word she could say.

In the end, she locked me inside my brother’s room and rushed outside to chase after the reporters.

“I’m going to report Harry for cheating on the college entrance exam!”

As I listened to her righteous voice outside the door, I laughed until tears filled my eyes. In the darkness, my brother’s portrait seemed to be watching me. When I was little, I was often forced to kneel before his photo as punishment.

Every time, I would cry because his portrait scared me. Now, I stared straight into his eyes and whispered, “I’m so jealous of you. You’ve been gone for 20 years, and Mom and Dad still love you this much. Will they finally like me when I die too?”

The boy in the portrait said nothing. The smile on his face was carefree and innocent. There was a deep dimple on his right cheek when he smiled. I did not have one.

That was why Mom never allowed me to smile in front of her.

My brother used to be athletic. Whenever he had free time, he loved being outdoors.

To force me to become more like him, Mom tore up my books and snapped my paintbrushes in half. She would not let me come home until after dark.

Even my birthday was not really my birthday. I was only allowed to celebrate my brother’s birthday.

The cake was always mango-flavored—his favorite when he was alive. However, I was allergic to mango.

Every year, when I blew out the candles, my brother’s portrait sat across from me. The only wish I was allowed to make was that he would be happy in the afterlife.

For 18 years, I lived as my brother’s replacement. I did not even know what the real me was supposed to be like anymore.

How could my parents love me when they never even wanted the real me?

I did not know how long I sat in the darkness, but suddenly, the bedroom door opened. Dad stood in the doorway, his figure outlined by the light behind him. He looked exhausted.

“Harry, apologize to your mother.”