Even through the screen, I could practically smell the fake sweetness in her words.
I typed back:
【Snow: Oh? When did I ever say that?】
【Snow: Anyway, I’m going to die soon. You can take care of my corpse, how about that?】
Our family wasn’t poor, but living this way felt meaningless.
As soon as I said that, another notification popped up.
【You have been removed from the group chat by Daniel Miller.】
Immediately afterward, Daniel’s furious messages poured in like firecrackers.
【You pulled this stunt just because you’re afraid we’d blame you, didn’t you?】
【Emily slashed her wrists! She still defended you, but what about you?!】
【You’re just jealous we celebrated her birthday without you, aren’t you?!】
【You’d die if you went a single day without playing victim, huh?】
A sudden stab of pain hit my chest.
I bit my lip and replied with a bitter smile:
【Oh, I can die. And I will soon enough.】
Emily—my so-called “sister,” born on the same day as me.
After I went missing at six years old, my parents adopted her as a way to console themselves.
Just because she shared my birthday, she became my “replacement.”
And for seven years, they treated her as if she were truly theirs.
Until I was found and brought back.
Watching their intimacy, I envied them desperately.
Seven years of hardship had left me unable to fit into that kind of family warmth.
In her princess dresses, graceful Emily was a sharp contrast to me—skinny, gloomy, and joyless.
She could cling to them, pouting and wheedling, just to get them to take her to an Italian restaurant for dinner.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t even bring myself to say that my underwear didn’t fit.
In fact, I had never worn real underwear.
At the foster home, I only used strips of cloth to bind myself.
At that age, my chest developed too quickly for my thin body, attracting mocking stares and inappropriate comments.
Frightened, I scavenged an old worn vest from an elderly lady at the shelter and used it as a chest binder.
When she saw my struggles, she felt sorry for me and even cut off my long hair, making me look like a scrawny boy.
Still, I clung to the belief that my family wouldn’t despise me—that they would love me.
I grew my hair out again, tried wearing dresses, imitating Emily, doing everything I could to be a “proper girl.”
But no matter how much I tried, they always favored Emily.