I looked at her calmly, my eyes devoid of any emotion. After a long while, Maria gritted her teeth, rushed to the balcony and stepped out with one foot.

"Since you don't believe me, I can only prove my innocence with my death, to atone for your sins!" she threatened.

John stared intently at me. "Do you really have to do this?"

My mom, who had been so concerned for me, suddenly lost all her emotions. She looked at me with a troubled and guilty expression.

"So many years have passed. Maria didn't do it on purpose. Perhaps this was your destiny. Olivia, please forgive her. She has life too."

I looked at them quietly. Actually, I had many grievances. I wanted to tell them about the most painful year, when they kicked me because I disobeyed them and from then on, I lost my legs and could never stand again. And several unborn children were lost through extremely harmful methods. That's why I lost the ability to be a mother, that's why I was no longer fertile.

But seeing how calmly they could excuse the trigger and ignoring all my suffering, I was speechless.

I smiled, tears falling. "I'm not angry. It's my worthless fate. I shouldn't have come back. I should have died there, never disturbing your family's happiness again."

John, his eyes red, slapped me. "What nonsense are you spouting? Your mom and dad suffered so much searching for you, how can you say such heartless things? If it weren't for Maria all these years, they would have been depressed long ago!"

I touched my burning cheek. Looking at my parents, who remained unmoved even after I was hit, busy pulling Maria down from the balcony.

I scoffed. "Thank you for the slap, it woke me from my sweet dream."

I moved my wheelchair outside. Gradually, faint sobs came from the ward. I knew they weren't crying for me. It's okay, I didn’t need anyone to cry for me anymore.

I came back home. I took out the old bag I'd brought with me when I was brought back. Looking around, I realized I could take very little with me.

In the closet were the pretty short skirts that Maria and I wore as sisters. Unfortunately, I couldn't wear them because of my amputation. On the bedside table was a family photo just like Maria's. The difference was, I wasn't in it.

And there's the pile of birthday gifts from every year on my desk. Each one was picked out for me by John and Maria. But none of them were my favorite things.