All Chapters of Parents’ Regret After I Died for My Sister: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

Dad frowned at me. “Iris is sick. What are you so happy about?”I didn't know what to say.I tucked the test paper behind my back and bit my lip.Mom's eyes were red, as if she'd been crying.“The doctor said Iris fainted from anemia, mainly due to prolonged low mood and malnutrition.”Her voice was like a needle, jabbing at my chest with every word.“Don't you know… don't you know what her life is like at home?”I knew.When I sneezed, Mom would sit by my bed all night.When I caught a cold and lost my appetite, Dad would take time off work and stand in line for three hours to buy me the most expensive little cake in the city.Then Mom would rub her back in the morning and sigh, “I'm so tired, but it's okay. Mommy loves you the most.”Dad would look at his paycheck and groan, “There goes my attendance bonus. I'll just have to pick up extra shifts next month.”When I told them I didn't really want the cake, Dad said, “I work this hard for you and you don't even appreciate it. We've spo

I was dead.But my soul was still trapped here.Mom and Dad finally came home with Iris.She was pale, and Dad carried her gently up to her room.Mom saw the broken cake on the floor, candles still stuck in it, going sour. Something flickered across her face that looked like guilt.“Did we say too much to Elena? She's still a kid.”“Locking her up, ignoring her calls.”Dad put an arm around her shoulder. “She's not a baby anymore. She needs to learn. But I think she's probably figured it out by now. If she apologizes, I'll give her the egg tarts she likes.”Mom nodded. “Yeah. Elena's always been easy to win over.”But when Dad knocked, there was no response.I stood next to him. His eyes were red.He probably hadn't slept all night.That was how they used to be when I was sick.“Dad, come in and talk to me. I can still hear you.”Mom looked stricken.“She's still upset with us.”She tapped the door lightly.“Elena? It's Mom. You won't even open up for me?”Dad worked so much that Mom h

“Elena.”Mom let go of Iris and stumbled forward, staring at me as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.Iris peeked out from behind her, eyes huge, and my curled-up body was reflected in them.“Elena?”Her voice was as thin as a thread of spider silk about to snap, trembling in the air.No one answered her.The small body on the blanket didn't move, didn't breathe.Mom knelt down and touched my cheek.It was stone cold, cold all the way through.Her hand jerked back.She froze in place, like a statue someone had broken.“No.” She shook her head faster and faster, as if she were trying to throw the thought out of her skull. “No, no. Jason, come look. Is she sick? Is Elena sick?”Dad rushed over and pushed her aside.He held his hand near my nose, hesitating.His hand was shaking violently.He didn't believe it, so he laid his head on my chest, trying to hear a heartbeat.There was nothing.He collapsed onto the floor, muttering, “She really was hurting.”He covered his face and

The doorbell rang.It was Mrs. Collins from next door, coming to borrow something, and Mom answered the door with red eyes.“My God, what happened?”She saw me in Grandma's arms, and her gaze hitched.“Elena? Don't tell me—”Mom looked up sharply with bloodshot eyes.Mrs. Collins patted her shoulder.“She was always frail. It's not your fault she didn't make it.”“Things will be easier for you now.”“Just yesterday you were telling me Elena was here to collect on a debt from a past life.”“Get out.”Mom's eyes turned vicious.Mrs. Collins's lips moved, and then her eyes drifted to Grandma.“Out.”It was Grandma who had spoken.“Now,” she said. “Out.”The look in her eyes finally shut Mrs. Collins up, and she backed sheepishly out the door.The moment it closed, Mom collapsed, as if every ounce of strength had been drained out of her.“It was me…”“Elena must have heard me say things like that, and she must have thought I didn't want her anymore. That's why she left.”Dad pulled her aga

Grandma got on the train back to the village with my urn in her arms.I floated next to her.The fields ran past the window in long green sweeps, and her white hair lifted in the breeze.I remembered that when I was little, back before I got so weak, the whole family used to ride the train out here together, and the view had looked just like this.Grandma rested the urn on her knees and held it carefully.The train rocked for over four hours, and she barely moved.By the time we reached the town, it was already dark.Grandma didn't turn on a light. She felt her way into the old wooden house she'd lived in for forty years and struck a match.“Elena.” She said it softly, as if she were checking whether someone else were still in the room.She set the urn on the mantel, then dug a white candle out of a cabinet, lit it, and stood it next to the urn.The flame wavered, then steadied.She sat down in the rocking chair in front of the fireplace and just looked at the urn and the candle.She l