Tears kept slipping down my face as I stood alone in the hospital corridor.My mind would not stop dragging me back through old memories.After my father died in a mountain accident while trying to save me, my mother and sister never truly cared for me again.From that day on, I became the son who had lived when the wrong man died, while the only one they ever loved was my older brother, Lucian Vieri, seven years older than me and, in their eyes, worth more than the rest of us put together.When Lucian came of age, they threw him a lavish birthday party, invited nearly everyone at school, and ordered a ten-tier cake that stood in the center of the ballroom like a monument to how much he was adored. Whenever he got sick, my mother and sister took turns watching over him at his bedside. When I was hospitalized with pneumonia, no one came at all.For a long time, I believed I deserved it. I thought that as the son who had cost our father his life, I had no right to ask for love.Then came
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