Chapter 1

My parents’ scolding overwhelmed my barely audible words as I made my wish.

“You heartless creature, how could you still be in the mood for cake when your father and I are so angry?”

A slap landed on me.

I belatedly opened my eyes to see the hatred written clearly on Mom’s face.

“What is it that we’ve failed to provide for you? Why did you have to fake an illness to scare us? Since you were already pretending to be depressed, why not make it more believable by just dying?”

The heart I thought had been numb for a long time still managed to feel a pang of hurt.

I looked at Mom and recalled her affectionate and encouraging words from just a few seconds before. “I will give you anything you want as long as you get better, Finley. I would die for you.”

It was like a dream, and I had just awoken from it.

Mom was back to her old ways, looking at me in distaste and with castigation.

“Playing mute now that you’ve been found out, are you?”

Dad frowned and sighed. “Your mother and I took more than a month off work to take you for treatments. Do you know how much less money we have been making?

“We have three kids, and that means a lot of money spent. Why can’t you be more sensible? Why did you have to get up to all this trouble?”

I had heard the same tirade many times before I became depressed.

When it was time to get new clothes, my parents would say that they had many kids and told me to be good and accept my older sister’s hand-me-downs.

When it was time to pick a room, my parents would say that they had many kids and told me to be good and take the smallest one.

When we went on vacation, my parents would say that they had many kids and told me to be good and remain behind.

Every time, I would argue with them out of my own sadness.

My sister Rhea was older than me, and my younger brother Caleb was stronger than me.

So, why was it that I was the only one being asked to be sensible, to be good?

After developing depression, I lost the energy to argue with my parents.

Contrarily, they no longer asked for me to be sensible. Instead, they kept emphasizing, “Finley, your mother and I will do anything to take care of you as long as you’re healthy.”

When I did not respond to my parents’ demands, Mom slapped me.

“Talk then! What are you so unhappy with?”

My ears rang.

Strangely, however, I did not feel any pain on my face. Even my heart did not hurt.

I was suddenly certain that my parents would only be happy after I died.

Therefore, I shook my head.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be good from now on.”

Yes, I would be good, even if it meant I killed myself.