Chapter 4

Corbin's voice suddenly piped up from behind me.

"Oh, by the way, I didn't have anywhere to put my drum set, so I had no choice but to use Wilbur's room. I know it's going to be hard for you and Wilbur to squeeze into one room, but you won't get mad at me for that, will you?"

He stepped closer, a smug grin plastered across his face as he whispered maliciously in my ear.

"Mom and Dad love me the most. If you know what's good for you, get out of this house immediately. Otherwise, you won't even get to keep any of this junk anymore."

Seeing Wilbur's belongings completely desecrated pushed me past my breaking point. Blinded by rage, I threw a hard punch straight into his stomach.

Corbin collapsed to the floor with a thud, clutching his abdomen as his face drained of color.

"William! Mom and Dad saw that I didn't have a place for my drum set, so they offered to let me use Wilbur's room instead! But if you mind, I'll move it right out!

"I know you're closer to Mom and Dad than I am, and I don't deserve their love or to make any demands, but you can't just abuse your power and beat me up like this…"

His hypocritical act made my stomach churn. I raised my fist to hit him again, but Dad suddenly materialized behind me, yanking me backward before a heavy slap landed squarely on my face.

My vision blurred with flashing stars, and my ears rang deafeningly.

"How dare you hit your brother!" Mom shrieked, rushing forward to help Corbin up with a look of profound heartbreak. She pointed a trembling finger at my face and yelled, "Cory was just being considerate, and you treat him like this in return?

"It's not like you and Will spend much time at home anyway! What's wrong with sharing a smaller bedroom? It's not like we're forcing you to sleep on the floor!

"Wilbur really corrupted you! You've always been so spoiled and arrogant!"

She turned back to coddle Corbin.

"It's okay, Cory. Don't be afraid. Just tell me whatever you want, and I'll buy you something even better."

Even though I'd already lost all hope in them, watching them shower Corbin with such blind favoritism still twisted a knife in my chest.

Trembling, I picked up the shattered pieces of the clay figurine. My voice cracked into a hoarse scream.

"You've only ever had eyes for Corbin all these years! You never bothered asking what actually happened before pinning the blame on Wilbur and me!

"This clay figurine is all we have left of Wilbur! It was his final memento!"

Mom didn't miss a beat, waving away my grief as she continued stroking Corbin's back.

"It's just made of dirt. Tell Wilbur to make another one when he gets back. What's the point of throwing a tantrum over something so worthless?"

As if suddenly remembering Wilbur existed, she frowned and looked around. "Where is Wilbur anyway? Why isn't he back with you?"

She pulled out her phone and dialed his number, but the call failed to connect. Annoyed, she scoffed.

"All we did was block you from abusing your connections to buy tickets back home! It was to teach you humility and stop you from misusing your authority! We did it for your own good!

"How dare he throw a fit and refuse to come home just because of that? Tell Wilbur to get back here immediately!"

I broke down completely. "Wilbur is dead! He died in the riots! You'll never see him again!"

Another brutal slap cracked across my cheek.

Dad grabbed me by the collar, shoving his furious face right into mine. "What nonsense are you spewing? What do you mean he's dead? This is all his fault for corrupting you!

"If he doesn't want to come back, fine! We'll lock him out of the house for good and see how long he lasts on his own! You and Wilbur completely ruined our good mood after Corbin's safe return!"

Ignoring their demands that I apologize to Corbin, I spat out, "I hate you! I'll never, ever forgive you!"

I bolted back into my room and slammed the door shut, locking out their toxic noise.

I spent the entire night packing up Wilbur's belongings. By the time I finished, it was already noon the next day.

Mom knocked on my door, announcing that she had prepared lunch especially for me and instructed me to act like a magnanimous big brother and apologize to Corbin for yesterday.

I walked out to the dining table loaded with Corbin's favorite dishes—including a massive platter of shrimp scampi pasta, a dish that both Wilbur and I were deathly allergic to. I smiled bitterly.

"Wilbur and I spent three days hospitalized after eating shrimp just once. You've forgotten, haven't you?"

Mom looked momentarily flustered before quickly hardening her expression and scolding me.