Chapter 3

I had nothing left.

You blamed me for taking everything from Victor in the womb and told me more times than I could count that I should die.

Now I had finally returned that life to you.

When Victor went home, my parents were waiting in the living room with a hot dinner already laid out.

I thought of myself again before I could stop it.

I had died without ever tasting a meal my parents cooked especially for me.

I laughed until I started crying, watching the three of them sit together like a complete family while grief twisted through me.

Only after dinner did my parents remember I existed, and even then it was casual.

"Where is Julian? He doesn't even bother coming home. Always making trouble."

Victor answered without interest.

"Who knows?"

My mother's carefully made-up face tightened with irritation.

"He called me more than ten times. I was playing cards. I didn't have time to deal with him."

Victor laughed along with her. She tapped his forehead affectionately, and I couldn't see the slightest guilt in his eyes.

I didn't know when my spirit might vanish, so when my parents went to bed, I simply stayed on the couch all night.

My spirit followed Victor to a private racing club and then to a luxury marina, places I had never once been allowed to enjoy.

Victor moved through the crowd easily, basking in his friends' praise, and never once remembered the brother he had locked in the basement.

Even as a ghost, I could still feel how completely I didn't belong in his world.

We had grown up in the same family, yet I had always been no more than dust beneath everyone else's feet.

Three days later, in the middle of his friends' laughter, Victor finally remembered me.

Victor drove alone to the lake house and knocked mockingly on the basement door.

"Julian, how was it? Have fun?"

Silence answered him.

He cursed, flicked away his cigarette, and unlocked the basement.

Victor always said he liked watching me beg and lower myself like a dog. When he opened the door, that same ugly anticipation was still in his eyes.

But in the absolute silence, the loudest sound became the key slipping from his hand and striking the floor.

He staggered toward my body, still swearing at me, until his hand touched skin that had gone cold and begun to reek.

His face was so ugly in that moment.

Victor's face turned gray as he checked for breathing and finally understood I was really dead. Then he paced through the empty lake house, shouting curses at no one.

When my mother called, he answered stiffly and forced out a few ordinary replies.

She was complaining that I still had not come home.

Beside my body, Victor's lips trembled.

"Mom, why do you keep bringing him up?"

After the call ended, Victor searched online for ways to get rid of a body.

He then hid my body in his car and dumped it in a river.

My spirit watched my mother play cards and attend gatherings until, more than a week later, my body was recovered.

Police called her and said they had found her son's remains.

"What are you talking about? Julian was healthier than anyone. I'd die before he ever would."

After she hung up, I thought I saw her hand tremble.

I laughed bitterly and told myself she was probably only angry. It was easier than believing she might actually be grieving for me.

But the lights in my parents' bedroom stayed on the entire night.

Early the next morning they left before Victor could even finish calling after them.

I tried to follow them, but my spirit couldn't move far from Victor.

Victor had not looked this weak in years. He sat pale and silent in his room.

He didn't eat all day. I couldn't tell whether he feared my parents discovering what he had done or whether guilt had finally reached him.

Cigarette ends filled the ashtray. When my parents came home with red eyes, Victor rushed toward them nervously.

"Mom... Dad..."

He reached for my mother's arm, but she tore herself away.

It was the first time in my life - or death - that my parents ignored Victor because of me.

If I had seen that while I was alive, I probably would have cried from happiness.

But I was already dead. By the time my parents finally looked at me, all that remained was a body marked by years of suffering.