Chapter 4

A woman's voice came through the phone.

"Hello? Is this Monica Moretti, Beth's sister?"

I frowned. "Who is this?"

"Beth was caught in a firefight while escorting a weapons shipment and was badly wounded. The doctors have stabilized her, but she's still in danger. She doesn't want us to call your parents and worry them, so she asked me to tell you."

I froze. My heart sank at the news.

"How is she?" I demanded.

"She took two bullets to the shoulder. The wounds have been treated. She asked me to tell you she's fine and not to worry."

"All right."

I hung up.

For a moment, I just stood there in the departure lounge, my mind blank.

Beth had been badly wounded. But instead of telling our parents, she'd had someone call me.

She wanted to keep them from worrying. Apparently, it didn't matter if I worried.

It had always been like this. Whenever there was something difficult to deal with, I was the one she turned to.

I struggled with the thought for a long time before calling back.

Beth answered, sounding perfectly calm.

"Monica."

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing. There was a small clash during an operation. It isn't serious."

"If it isn't serious, why tell me?"

My cold tone seemed to catch her off guard.

After a moment, she said quietly, "Mom and Dad fuss over me if I even skip a meal. If they knew I'd been shot, they'd panic. I didn't want to burden them."

Her voice dropped to a murmur.

My grip tightened on the phone.

"But it's fine to burden me? I'm busy. Can you stop bothering me over something this trivial?"

The resentment I'd buried for years suddenly came pouring out.

Beth fell silent, stunned.

"No. I just thought I should tell you because we're family. If something had happened to me, you could have told Mom and Dad."

"But nothing happened to you, did it?"

My tone sharpened.

Even I was startled by how harsh I sounded.

Maybe I'd kept everything bottled up for too long, and Beth had simply become the person I finally exploded at.

I ended the call before she could say anything else.

After I hung up, my chest felt tight and my eyes stung.

The feeling stayed with me even after Dante and I boarded the plane.

I stared out the window, feeling as if a heavy weight were pressing down on my chest.

It wasn't really because of the call.

The call had only confirmed what I'd known all along.

There was no place for me in that family.

A few days later, my mother called me.

It was the first time she'd called since she and Dad took Beth to Naples. After answering the call, the mother said, "Christmas is approaching. Beth said she would come back with us to celebrate Christmas. You should come back too."

The mother didn't give me any chance to negotiate; she had already decided that I would definitely go back.

I was silent for a moment.

"I don't have time."

"How can you not have time? Your job isn't even part of the core business."

I paused and let out a breath.

"I'm busy."

"Alright then. If you don't want to come back, it's up to you. You always act this way, not caring about your family. This year, your Christmas present can only go to your sister. I'll make up for it for you next year."

"Okay."

I ended the call without another word.

In 25 years, 20 of my Christmas presents had been freebies that came with Beth's gifts.

For the past few years, I had spent Christmas at school.

Eventually, even those freebies started going to Beth.

The gifts meant nothing to me.

Dante and I stayed in Turin until just before Christmas. I booked his flight back to Milan and saw him off at the airport.

He asked, "Aren't you coming back?"

I shook my head. "I want to spend the holiday in Turin."

So I stayed. Turin or Milan, it made no difference to me.

I'd never liked Christmas anyway.

Before Christmas Eve, my mother posted another photo of the three of them on social media. Beth stood in the middle, smiling and holding a stuffed animal.

My parents stood on either side of her with their arms around her.

They looked like a happy family.

On Christmas Eve, Dante was the only person outside the family group chat who sent me a greeting. My family didn't even remember me.

I stared at the screen in silence and took a deep breath.

Then I left the family group chat.

After that, I blocked all three of them.

The whole thing took less than a minute.

When it was done, I felt lighter than I had in years.

The invisible weight I'd been carrying was finally gone.

At that same moment, Beth was posting another photo. She suddenly noticed that the member count at the top of the group chat had dropped from four to three.

Beth frowned and said, "Monica left the group."

She opened our private chat.

Mom and Dad were sitting beside her eating fruit. As soon as they heard her, they came over.

She typed, "Monica, why did you leave the group?"

The message had gone through, but there was no reply.