Substitute No More: The Sister They Lost

After my 99th call for help to my brothers was declined, I asked the doctor for the treatment withdrawal agreement.

"Ms. Sinclair, are you certain you want to give up all active treatment?" Dr. Jones asked me once more for confirmation.

I hummed in response and signed my name on the agreement.

"You're still so young..." Dr. Jones looked at me with deep sympathy. "What about your family? Are you sure you don't need to notify them?"

Before I could respond, the door behind me was suddenly pushed open. It was my brothers. They had actually come.

Hope flickered in my heart. If they despised me, they wouldn't have rushed here. Maybe they still cared about me, even just a little?

My eldest brother, Joseph, strode up to me. "What are you making a fuss over?"

"Joe." I looked up at him, my weak voice carrying a thread of hope. "I... I need—"

"Need what?" Joseph interrupted me, clearly angry.

"Money? Attention? Cynthia, you're actually pretending to have a terminal illness just to compete with Sarah for our affection? And you came to this kind of place to frighten us?"

The angrier he got, the more his chest heaved violently, and suddenly, he raised his hand. Almost immediately, a loud slap struck hard across my left cheek.

I was stunned by the blow. Clutching my burning cheek, my voice was barely audible as I said, "I'm not faking my illness."

My second brother, Thomas, frowned and stepped forward. He glanced at the diagnosis report in my hand and let out a mocking laugh. "Pancreatic cancer? If you're going to make something up, at least pick a believable disease.

"You've been living in luxury since childhood and have always been much healthier than Sarah. How could you possibly get this kind of illness?"

The usually gentle Thomas shook his head, looking at me with complete disgust. "Cynthia, you've been disappointing us more and more lately."

I wiped away the blood flowing from my nose and lowered my head. Joseph's expression wavered slightly, as if he realized he had struck too hard.

Sarah, who was also present, immediately teared up and said in a soft voice, "Joe, Tom, it's all my fault for insisting on celebrating my birthday. Cynthia must've felt hurt seeing how good you guys were to me, which is why she's acting this way."

As she spoke, she reached out as if to help me. But when she got close, she whispered in a voice only I could hear, "Playing the victim card now? Do you think you deserve to?"

My whole body turned cold, and I could feel the cancer sending waves of excruciating pain through my stomach.

Joseph tenderly pulled Sarah into his embrace, gently comforting her. "It's not your fault. She's just being unreasonable."

Thomas glanced at me coldly. "Cynthia, even if you're going to throw tantrums, you need to know how to pick your timing."

Ah... I had forgotten. Today was Sarah's birthday.

Joseph and Thomas, these two busy CEOs, had deliberately postponed several important meetings just to personally oversee the arrangements at the banquet hall. They hadn't rushed here to save me but to hold me accountable.

I withdrew my gaze and turned to Dr. Jones. "Dr. Jones, I'd like to reserve a burial plot."

"Cynthia!" Joseph's expression was incredulous. "Do you really have to use such manipulative tactics to compete for attention on Sarah's birthday?"

Behind me came Thomas' mocking laughter. "Fine then. Since you love cursing yourself so much, I'll just wait and see. If you're not dead in seven days, then get out of this family forever."

They then left with Sarah. Dr. Jones silently handed me tissues, his expression showing a tangle of emotions. I carelessly wiped the blood and tears from my face and numbly finished signing all the documents.

When I walked out of the hospital, the sunlight hurt my eyes. I now had seven days left in this world.