My brother has always hated me. He once looked me in the eye and said he wished I was dead. So I gave him what he wanted—I got stomach cancer. He regretted it, of course. But I still died. I died smiling, right in front of him.

Chapter 1My brother has always hated me. He once looked me in the eye and said he wished I was dead.So I gave him what he wanted—I got stomach cancer.He regretted it, of course.But I still died.I died smiling, right in front of him.1Caleb called just as I got home.The diagnosis was still crumpled up in my bag, the paper twisted and battered.He never used to call me first.“Dad’s birthday was the day before yesterday.”His voice was cold, sharp as ice. Always was.“Why didn’t you come home—”“Because I didn’t want to.” I cut him off. “You were there, weren’t you?”“Janie flew in from overseas, too.”Janie was my uncle’s daughter, raised in our house since we were kids.“She was there, that’s all you needed. She’s the only one you treat like a real sister anyway.”I must’ve hit a nerve, because he snapped my name, low and angry, “Georgia!”I hung up on him.The last light of sunset crept into the room.I sat at the kitchen table, tearing the diagnosis into tiny pieces.As the scraps drifted down, my phone lit up again.Caleb: [Mom’s memorial is soon.]2Caleb is my brother.He’s hated me for as long as I can remember.Because I’m the reason his mom is gone.Our mother died giving birth to me, over twenty years ago. I arrived, and she left forever on the operating table.It’s a so-called miracle that felt more like a crime.Nobody celebrated my birth.Because of me, Dad lost the love of his life.And Caleb lost his mother.That resentment started the day I was born and never let up.I didn’t mean to skip Dad’s birthday.That day, my stomach hurt so badly I nearly passed out. That’s when I realized something was really wrong.But honestly, maybe everyone was better off without me there.3Caleb never reached out again.I stood outside the office, taking a deep breath.After I graduated, I entered his company.I started at the bottom and worked my way up. No one ever guessed we were siblings.I actually saw him less than most regular employees did.Last week, a senior manager resigned. This Monday, they were announcing a replacement.Everyone said the promotion would be mine.I believed it too—at least, before the diagnosis.I ran into a coworker in the hallway. She grinned and leaned in, whispering,“Georgia, when you get that promotion, you owe us a huge dinner!”I ducked my head and smiled. “It’s not a done deal.”“Come on,” she said, hooking her arm through mine. “You’re the best we’ve got. No contest.”We walked into the conference room. Caleb was already there. Our eyes met for just a second before he looked away, cold as ever.“Good morning, Mr. Mulford,” I said.He didn’t look up. Just nodded, like we’d never even argued that night.People trickled in, filling the room.Caleb cleared his throat. My coworker nudged me, waggling her eyebrows.I avoided her eyes, staring at the table.And then I heard a name I knew too well.“Janie.”She walked in, elegant and slim, her smile as gentle as always.Caleb stood beside her and introduced her to everyone. “Janie just got back from overseas. She’ll be stepping in as our new assistant manager.”A few people glanced at me. I looked away, my eyes fixed on Janie’s bright smile. For a second, the whole room seemed to freeze.There was something tense, hidden under the surface.I smiled and clapped along with everyone else.The scattered applause broke the awkward silence.Janie caught my eye, her smile deepening.4The coffee in the break room was so strong it almost made me gag. I stirred it absently, took a sip, and felt a wave of nausea rise up.My coworker glared, fuming.“Seriously? She just waltzes in and takes your promotion? Nepotism much?”“Georgia, aren’t you pissed?”“That job should’ve been yours. You worked so hard—remember when you almost ended up in the hospital from all that overtime?”Her gaze zeroed in on the bags under my eyes. “Georgia, seriously, you don’t have to work yourself to death. Maybe ease up on the coffee, okay?”The heat from my mug seeped through the ceramic, burning my hand a little. I murmured a quick thanks, “Mr. Mulford probably has his reasons.”She shot me a wide-eyed look, about to complain, when her phone suddenly started ringing, loud and jarring.Caleb’s voice came through the tiny break room like a knife—sharp, tightly controlled, and pissed off. “Georgia, come to my office. Now.”My hand slipped, and a few drops of coffee splattered onto my white shirt. The heat stung my skin, even through the fabric.I kept my voice low. “Coming.”5The second I walked into Caleb’s office, I saw Janie on the sofa, head down, clutching a crumpled piece of paper.Caleb was at his desk, face like stone, barely holding back his anger.People used to say that even though Caleb and I came from the same family, the only thing we had in common was our eyes—sharp at the corners, cold as ice when we weren’t smiling.Problem was, neither of us ever smiled much.And Caleb? He’d never smiled at me.“Janie might be new here, but she’s got what it takes.“Georgia.”His voice was tight, eyebrows pulled together.“If you’ve got something to say, say it to my face. Don’t gossip behind people’s backs or rally the others to freeze out Janie. Georgia, is being cruel just part of who you are?”It had only been half a day.I glanced at Janie—she looked up at the same time, our eyes locking for a split second. Her face was young, cheeks still round, eyes rimmed in red, tears shining under the harsh office lights.She looked away again, fast.Everyone was in their place, ready for the show. All they needed was for me to play along, but I had zero interest in acting out their drama.“People can say whatever they want. That’s not on me.“And anyway—“They’re not idiots.”There was a choked sob, then the sharp crack of something hitting the desk—Caleb’s fancy fountain pen, snapped in half. Black ink spread across the floor by my feet.“Georgia! You—”A single sheet of paper floated down onto his desk.Caleb’s words died in his throat. When he realized what it was, his anger came back twice as hard. “Georgia!“Are you a child?“Is this some kind of tantrum?”He balled up my resignation letter and tossed it to the floor like it was nothing.But this wasn’t about throwing a fit.I’d known for a long time.I didn’t have the right to throw fits.Only people who are loved get that luxury.And I never was one of them.“I’ll go to HR myself.”I shut the door behind me, leaving his yelling on the other side.I barely got a few steps down the hall before Janie caught up.“Georgia.” Her voice was thick with tears as she reached for my hand, tentative and shaky.“Georgia, please don’t be upset. I don’t want this job, I’ll tell Caleb. Don’t do this because of me.”“I never should’ve come back. Please, don’t let me come between you and Caleb.”The hallway was empty.I stopped and stared at her.Janie’s eyes always had that innocent, helpless look—add in her red-rimmed eyes and trembling nose, and people just melted. She’d always been like that, since the day she moved in all those years ago.“Janie.”I stepped closer, pinched her chin between my fingers. “This trick of yours never fails, does it?”Her face went ghost-white.The elevator dinged.I let go and stepped inside, leaving her standing there, stunned.I shot her a small, tired smile. “You know, there’s never been any real sibling bond between me and Caleb.“If anything, you’re more of a sister to him than I ever was.”6As the elevator doors slid shut, I caught my own reflection—blank, expressionless.A sharp pain twisted in my stomach.Things between Caleb and me hadn’t always been this bad. Not at the start.When we were kids, Caleb never really liked me—but he never crossed any lines or said anything truly cruel, either. Compared to my dad, who acted like I didn’t exist, Caleb was the only one I could call family.Back then, I used to think: Even if Caleb isn’t fond of me, we’re still related. That’s just how family works, right?Everything changed when Janie moved in during middle school.That’s when I realized how different things could be. Caleb could actually be kind—smiling, gentle, never telling Janie to “go away” or mocking her the way he did with me. That was what a real brother-sister relationship looked like.But Janie always wanted more.Just five days after she transferred to my school, I came home from class and Caleb slapped me—hard. I was stunned, my hand pressed to my cheek, trying to make sense of the words he spit out, words that barely made sense:Troublemaker.Bad seed.Poisonous.Apologize.And then I saw Janie behind him, her head down, clutching the back of his shirt for protection.Suddenly, all those scattered words pieced together in my mind, forming one big, ugly lie.I tried to defend myself, but Caleb didn’t believe a word. That day, the way he blew up at me—how obvious his favoritism was—shattered every hope I had that “family” meant anything.Caleb wasn’t stupid. He could tell right from wrong.He just didn’t care.That was the day I finally understood: my brother honestly, deeply hated me.After that, things between us just kept getting worse. But I was too stubborn to back off. I thought—if he ignores me like Dad does, I’ll disappear completely. So instead, I fought back. At least then, Caleb had to notice me.Our constant fighting went on until I turned eighteen.And then, at eighteen, it all fell apart—I got dragged into my own personal hell.After that, it was like the war just stopped. Overnight, we became strangers. No more screaming, no more arguments, no more sharp words—just cold, empty silence, like we never knew each other at all.7By the time I finished the paperwork and got home, it was already dark. The streetlights in the neighborhood were still off; the only light came from the warm yellow glow in windows across the street.The pain in my stomach—there since the afternoon—was still there, gnawing at me. I curled up on the couch, hunger and pain crawling over me. Eventually, I forced myself up and opened the fridge.A wave of rotten air hit me. That’s when I remembered—I hadn’t opened the fridge in over a month.I grabbed a handful of wilted greens, gave them a quick rinse, and dropped them on the cutting board. The knife hit the wood in uneven, shaky thuds.Then, out of nowhere, bright red drops splattered across the green leaves—like a raw, ugly flower blooming.I froze.The pain shot up from my hand—I’d sliced myself. The urge that followed was old and familiar. This time, I didn’t even try to stop it.Scars, old and new, tangled together as another fresh line ran from my forearm to my wrist.The knife clattered to the floor. I knelt there, breathless, gasping.It was getting harder to stop myself. Harder to resist the need to hurt.The doctor once said, Take your meds when you feel it coming on.But I hadn’t.She also said, “Georgia, let your family stay close. Feel loved. It’ll help.”But...I watched the blood winding down my arm.But I don’t have a family.8The food I cooked last night? I didn’t touch it. It all ended up in the trash. Hunger and pain twisted together until I finally passed out on my bed.Early the next morning, someone knocked on the door.Half-awake, I shuffled off the couch, walked to the door, and cracked it open. As soon as I saw who it was, my mind snapped awake.Caleb stood there—his eyes cold as ice, his face blank as ever.On instinct, I slammed the door shut, the metal echoing between us.I rushed to my room, pulled on a sweater, changed into long pants.When I opened the door again, Caleb’s eyes landed on my face, cold enough to make me shiver.Chapter 2My brother has always hated me. He once looked me in the eye and said he wished I was dead.So I gave him what he wanted—I got stomach cancer.He regretted it, of course.But I still died.I died smiling, right in front of him.1Caleb called just as I got home.The diagnosis was still crumpled up in my bag, the paper twisted and battered.He never used to call me first.“Dad’s birthday was the day before yesterday.”His voice was cold, sharp as ice. Always was.“Why didn’t you come home—”“Because I didn’t want to.” I cut him off. “You were there, weren’t you?”“Janie flew in from overseas, too.”Janie was my uncle’s daughter, raised in our house since we were kids.“She was there, that’s all you needed. She’s the only one you treat like a real sister anyway.”I must’ve hit a nerve, because he snapped my name, low and angry, “Georgia!”I hung up on him.The last light of sunset crept into the room.I sat at the kitchen table, tearing the diagnosis into tiny pieces.As the scraps drifted down, my phone lit up again.Caleb: [Mom’s memorial is soon.]2Caleb is my brother.He’s hated me for as long as I can remember.Because I’m the reason his mom is gone.Our mother died giving birth to me, over twenty years ago. I arrived, and she left forever on the operating table.It’s a so-called miracle that felt more like a crime.Nobody celebrated my birth.Because of me, Dad lost the love of his life.And Caleb lost his mother.That resentment started the day I was born and never let up.I didn’t mean to skip Dad’s birthday.That day, my stomach hurt so badly I nearly passed out. That’s when I realized something was really wrong.But honestly, maybe everyone was better off without me there.3Caleb never reached out again.I stood outside the office, taking a deep breath.After I graduated, I entered his company.I started at the bottom and worked my way up. No one ever guessed we were siblings.I actually saw him less than most regular employees did.Last week, a senior manager resigned. This Monday, they were announcing a replacement.Everyone said the promotion would be mine.I believed it too—at least, before the diagnosis.I ran into a coworker in the hallway. She grinned and leaned in, whispering,“Georgia, when you get that promotion, you owe us a huge dinner!”I ducked my head and smiled. “It’s not a done deal.”“Come on,” she said, hooking her arm through mine. “You’re the best we’ve got. No contest.”We walked into the conference room. Caleb was already there. Our eyes met for just a second before he looked away, cold as ever.“Good morning, Mr. Mulford,” I said.He didn’t look up. Just nodded, like we’d never even argued that night.People trickled in, filling the room.Caleb cleared his throat. My coworker nudged me, waggling her eyebrows.I avoided her eyes, staring at the table.And then I heard a name I knew too well.“Janie.”She walked in, elegant and slim, her smile as gentle as always.Caleb stood beside her and introduced her to everyone. “Janie just got back from overseas. She’ll be stepping in as our new assistant manager.”A few people glanced at me. I looked away, my eyes fixed on Janie’s bright smile. For a second, the whole room seemed to freeze.There was something tense, hidden under the surface.I smiled and clapped along with everyone else.The scattered applause broke the awkward silence.Janie caught my eye, her smile deepening.4The coffee in the break room was so strong it almost made me gag. I stirred it absently, took a sip, and felt a wave of nausea rise up.My coworker glared, fuming.“Seriously? She just waltzes in and takes your promotion? Nepotism much?”“Georgia, aren’t you pissed?”“That job should’ve been yours. You worked so hard—remember when you almost ended up in the hospital from all that overtime?”Her gaze zeroed in on the bags under my eyes. “Georgia, seriously, you don’t have to work yourself to death. Maybe ease up on the coffee, okay?”The heat from my mug seeped through the ceramic, burning my hand a little. I murmured a quick thanks, “Mr. Mulford probably has his reasons.”She shot me a wide-eyed look, about to complain, when her phone suddenly started ringing, loud and jarring.Caleb’s voice came through the tiny break room like a knife—sharp, tightly controlled, and pissed off. “Georgia, come to my office. Now.”My hand slipped, and a few drops of coffee splattered onto my white shirt. The heat stung my skin, even through the fabric.I kept my voice low. “Coming.”5The second I walked into Caleb’s office, I saw Janie on the sofa, head down, clutching a crumpled piece of paper.Caleb was at his desk, face like stone, barely holding back his anger.People used to say that even though Caleb and I came from the same family, the only thing we had in common was our eyes—sharp at the corners, cold as ice when we weren’t smiling.Problem was, neither of us ever smiled much.And Caleb? He’d never smiled at me.“Janie might be new here, but she’s got what it takes.“Georgia.”His voice was tight, eyebrows pulled together.“If you’ve got something to say, say it to my face. Don’t gossip behind people’s backs or rally the others to freeze out Janie. Georgia, is being cruel just part of who you are?”It had only been half a day.I glanced at Janie—she looked up at the same time, our eyes locking for a split second. Her face was young, cheeks still round, eyes rimmed in red, tears shining under the harsh office lights.She looked away again, fast.Everyone was in their place, ready for the show. All they needed was for me to play along, but I had zero interest in acting out their drama.“People can say whatever they want. That’s not on me.“And anyway—“They’re not idiots.”There was a choked sob, then the sharp crack of something hitting the desk—Caleb’s fancy fountain pen, snapped in half. Black ink spread across the floor by my feet.“Georgia! You—”A single sheet of paper floated down onto his desk.Caleb’s words died in his throat. When he realized what it was, his anger came back twice as hard. “Georgia!“Are you a child?“Is this some kind of tantrum?”He balled up my resignation letter and tossed it to the floor like it was nothing.But this wasn’t about throwing a fit.I’d known for a long time.I didn’t have the right to throw fits.Only people who are loved get that luxury.And I never was one of them.“I’ll go to HR myself.”I shut the door behind me, leaving his yelling on the other side.I barely got a few steps down the hall before Janie caught up.“Georgia.” Her voice was thick with tears as she reached for my hand, tentative and shaky.“Georgia, please don’t be upset. I don’t want this job, I’ll tell Caleb. Don’t do this because of me.”“I never should’ve come back. Please, don’t let me come between you and Caleb.”The hallway was empty.I stopped and stared at her.Janie’s eyes always had that innocent, helpless look—add in her red-rimmed eyes and trembling nose, and people just melted. She’d always been like that, since the day she moved in all those years ago.“Janie.”I stepped closer, pinched her chin between my fingers. “This trick of yours never fails, does it?”Her face went ghost-white.The elevator dinged.I let go and stepped inside, leaving her standing there, stunned.I shot her a small, tired smile. “You know, there’s never been any real sibling bond between me and Caleb.“If anything, you’re more of a sister to him than I ever was.”6As the elevator doors slid shut, I caught my own reflection—blank, expressionless.A sharp pain twisted in my stomach.Things between Caleb and me hadn’t always been this bad. Not at the start.When we were kids, Caleb never really liked me—but he never crossed any lines or said anything truly cruel, either. Compared to my dad, who acted like I didn’t exist, Caleb was the only one I could call family.Back then, I used to think: Even if Caleb isn’t fond of me, we’re still related. That’s just how family works, right?Everything changed when Janie moved in during middle school.That’s when I realized how different things could be. Caleb could actually be kind—smiling, gentle, never telling Janie to “go away” or mocking her the way he did with me. That was what a real brother-sister relationship looked like.But Janie always wanted more.Just five days after she transferred to my school, I came home from class and Caleb slapped me—hard. I was stunned, my hand pressed to my cheek, trying to make sense of the words he spit out, words that barely made sense:Troublemaker.Bad seed.Poisonous.Apologize.And then I saw Janie behind him, her head down, clutching the back of his shirt for protection.Suddenly, all those scattered words pieced together in my mind, forming one big, ugly lie.I tried to defend myself, but Caleb didn’t believe a word. That day, the way he blew up at me—how obvious his favoritism was—shattered every hope I had that “family” meant anything.Caleb wasn’t stupid. He could tell right from wrong.He just didn’t care.That was the day I finally understood: my brother honestly, deeply hated me.After that, things between us just kept getting worse. But I was too stubborn to back off. I thought—if he ignores me like Dad does, I’ll disappear completely. So instead, I fought back. At least then, Caleb had to notice me.Our constant fighting went on until I turned eighteen.And then, at eighteen, it all fell apart—I got dragged into my own personal hell.After that, it was like the war just stopped. Overnight, we became strangers. No more screaming, no more arguments, no more sharp words—just cold, empty silence, like we never knew each other at all.7By the time I finished the paperwork and got home, it was already dark. The streetlights in the neighborhood were still off; the only light came from the warm yellow glow in windows across the street.The pain in my stomach—there since the afternoon—was still there, gnawing at me. I curled up on the couch, hunger and pain crawling over me. Eventually, I forced myself up and opened the fridge.A wave of rotten air hit me. That’s when I remembered—I hadn’t opened the fridge in over a month.I grabbed a handful of wilted greens, gave them a quick rinse, and dropped them on the cutting board. The knife hit the wood in uneven, shaky thuds.Then, out of nowhere, bright red drops splattered across the green leaves—like a raw, ugly flower blooming.I froze.The pain shot up from my hand—I’d sliced myself. The urge that followed was old and familiar. This time, I didn’t even try to stop it.Scars, old and new, tangled together as another fresh line ran from my forearm to my wrist.The knife clattered to the floor. I knelt there, breathless, gasping.It was getting harder to stop myself. Harder to resist the need to hurt.The doctor once said, Take your meds when you feel it coming on.But I hadn’t.She also said, “Georgia, let your family stay close. Feel loved. It’ll help.”But...I watched the blood winding down my arm.But I don’t have a family.8The food I cooked last night? I didn’t touch it. It all ended up in the trash. Hunger and pain twisted together until I finally passed out on my bed.Early the next morning, someone knocked on the door.Half-awake, I shuffled off the couch, walked to the door, and cracked it open. As soon as I saw who it was, my mind snapped awake.Caleb stood there—his eyes cold as ice, his face blank as ever.On instinct, I slammed the door shut, the metal echoing between us.I rushed to my room, pulled on a sweater, changed into long pants.When I opened the door again, Caleb’s eyes landed on my face, cold enough to make me shiver.Chapter 3My brother has always hated me. He once looked me in the eye and said he wished I was dead.So I gave him what he wanted—I got stomach cancer.He regretted it, of course.But I still died.I died smiling, right in front of him.1Caleb called just as I got home.The diagnosis was still crumpled up in my bag, the paper twisted and battered.He never used to call me first.“Dad’s birthday was the day before yesterday.”His voice was cold, sharp as ice. Always was.“Why didn’t you come home—”“Because I didn’t want to.” I cut him off. “You were there, weren’t you?”“Janie flew in from overseas, too.”Janie was my uncle’s daughter, raised in our house since we were kids.“She was there, that’s all you needed. She’s the only one you treat like a real sister anyway.”I must’ve hit a nerve, because he snapped my name, low and angry, “Georgia!”I hung up on him.The last light of sunset crept into the room.I sat at the kitchen table, tearing the diagnosis into tiny pieces.As the scraps drifted down, my phone lit up again.Caleb: [Mom’s memorial is soon.]2Caleb is my brother.He’s hated me for as long as I can remember.Because I’m the reason his mom is gone.Our mother died giving birth to me, over twenty years ago. I arrived, and she left forever on the operating table.It’s a so-called miracle that felt more like a crime.Nobody celebrated my birth.Because of me, Dad lost the love of his life.And Caleb lost his mother.That resentment started the day I was born and never let up.I didn’t mean to skip Dad’s birthday.That day, my stomach hurt so badly I nearly passed out. That’s when I realized something was really wrong.But honestly, maybe everyone was better off without me there.3Caleb never reached out again.I stood outside the office, taking a deep breath.After I graduated, I entered his company.I started at the bottom and worked my way up. No one ever guessed we were siblings.I actually saw him less than most regular employees did.Last week, a senior manager resigned. This Monday, they were announcing a replacement.Everyone said the promotion would be mine.I believed it too—at least, before the diagnosis.I ran into a coworker in the hallway. She grinned and leaned in, whispering,“Georgia, when you get that promotion, you owe us a huge dinner!”I ducked my head and smiled. “It’s not a done deal.”“Come on,” she said, hooking her arm through mine. “You’re the best we’ve got. No contest.”We walked into the conference room. Caleb was already there. Our eyes met for just a second before he looked away, cold as ever.“Good morning, Mr. Mulford,” I said.He didn’t look up. Just nodded, like we’d never even argued that night.People trickled in, filling the room.Caleb cleared his throat. My coworker nudged me, waggling her eyebrows.I avoided her eyes, staring at the table.And then I heard a name I knew too well.“Janie.”She walked in, elegant and slim, her smile as gentle as always.Caleb stood beside her and introduced her to everyone. “Janie just got back from overseas. She’ll be stepping in as our new assistant manager.”A few people glanced at me. I looked away, my eyes fixed on Janie’s bright smile. For a second, the whole room seemed to freeze.There was something tense, hidden under the surface.I smiled and clapped along with everyone else.The scattered applause broke the awkward silence.Janie caught my eye, her smile deepening.4The coffee in the break room was so strong it almost made me gag. I stirred it absently, took a sip, and felt a wave of nausea rise up.My coworker glared, fuming.“Seriously? She just waltzes in and takes your promotion? Nepotism much?”“Georgia, aren’t you pissed?”“That job should’ve been yours. You worked so hard—remember when you almost ended up in the hospital from all that overtime?”Her gaze zeroed in on the bags under my eyes. “Georgia, seriously, you don’t have to work yourself to death. Maybe ease up on the coffee, okay?”The heat from my mug seeped through the ceramic, burning my hand a little. I murmured a quick thanks, “Mr. Mulford probably has his reasons.”She shot me a wide-eyed look, about to complain, when her phone suddenly started ringing, loud and jarring.Caleb’s voice came through the tiny break room like a knife—sharp, tightly controlled, and pissed off. “Georgia, come to my office. Now.”My hand slipped, and a few drops of coffee splattered onto my white shirt. The heat stung my skin, even through the fabric.I kept my voice low. “Coming.”5The second I walked into Caleb’s office, I saw Janie on the sofa, head down, clutching a crumpled piece of paper.Caleb was at his desk, face like stone, barely holding back his anger.People used to say that even though Caleb and I came from the same family, the only thing we had in common was our eyes—sharp at the corners, cold as ice when we weren’t smiling.Problem was, neither of us ever smiled much.And Caleb? He’d never smiled at me.“Janie might be new here, but she’s got what it takes.“Georgia.”His voice was tight, eyebrows pulled together.“If you’ve got something to say, say it to my face. Don’t gossip behind people’s backs or rally the others to freeze out Janie. Georgia, is being cruel just part of who you are?”It had only been half a day.I glanced at Janie—she looked up at the same time, our eyes locking for a split second. Her face was young, cheeks still round, eyes rimmed in red, tears shining under the harsh office lights.She looked away again, fast.Everyone was in their place, ready for the show. All they needed was for me to play along, but I had zero interest in acting out their drama.“People can say whatever they want. That’s not on me.“And anyway—“They’re not idiots.”There was a choked sob, then the sharp crack of something hitting the desk—Caleb’s fancy fountain pen, snapped in half. Black ink spread across the floor by my feet.“Georgia! You—”A single sheet of paper floated down onto his desk.Caleb’s words died in his throat. When he realized what it was, his anger came back twice as hard. “Georgia!“Are you a child?“Is this some kind of tantrum?”He balled up my resignation letter and tossed it to the floor like it was nothing.But this wasn’t about throwing a fit.I’d known for a long time.I didn’t have the right to throw fits.Only people who are loved get that luxury.And I never was one of them.“I’ll go to HR myself.”I shut the door behind me, leaving his yelling on the other side.I barely got a few steps down the hall before Janie caught up.“Georgia.” Her voice was thick with tears as she reached for my hand, tentative and shaky.“Georgia, please don’t be upset. I don’t want this job, I’ll tell Caleb. Don’t do this because of me.”“I never should’ve come back. Please, don’t let me come between you and Caleb.”The hallway was empty.I stopped and stared at her.Janie’s eyes always had that innocent, helpless look—add in her red-rimmed eyes and trembling nose, and people just melted. She’d always been like that, since the day she moved in all those years ago.“Janie.”I stepped closer, pinched her chin between my fingers. “This trick of yours never fails, does it?”Her face went ghost-white.The elevator dinged.I let go and stepped inside, leaving her standing there, stunned.I shot her a small, tired smile. “You know, there’s never been any real sibling bond between me and Caleb.“If anything, you’re more of a sister to him than I ever was.”6As the elevator doors slid shut, I caught my own reflection—blank, expressionless.A sharp pain twisted in my stomach.Things between Caleb and me hadn’t always been this bad. Not at the start.When we were kids, Caleb never really liked me—but he never crossed any lines or said anything truly cruel, either. Compared to my dad, who acted like I didn’t exist, Caleb was the only one I could call family.Back then, I used to think: Even if Caleb isn’t fond of me, we’re still related. That’s just how family works, right?Everything changed when Janie moved in during middle school.That’s when I realized how different things could be. Caleb could actually be kind—smiling, gentle, never telling Janie to “go away” or mocking her the way he did with me. That was what a real brother-sister relationship looked like.But Janie always wanted more.Just five days after she transferred to my school, I came home from class and Caleb slapped me—hard. I was stunned, my hand pressed to my cheek, trying to make sense of the words he spit out, words that barely made sense:Troublemaker.Bad seed.Poisonous.Apologize.And then I saw Janie behind him, her head down, clutching the back of his shirt for protection.Suddenly, all those scattered words pieced together in my mind, forming one big, ugly lie.I tried to defend myself, but Caleb didn’t believe a word. That day, the way he blew up at me—how obvious his favoritism was—shattered every hope I had that “family” meant anything.Caleb wasn’t stupid. He could tell right from wrong.He just didn’t care.That was the day I finally understood: my brother honestly, deeply hated me.After that, things between us just kept getting worse. But I was too stubborn to back off. I thought—if he ignores me like Dad does, I’ll disappear completely. So instead, I fought back. At least then, Caleb had to notice me.Our constant fighting went on until I turned eighteen.And then, at eighteen, it all fell apart—I got dragged into my own personal hell.After that, it was like the war just stopped. Overnight, we became strangers. No more screaming, no more arguments, no more sharp words—just cold, empty silence, like we never knew each other at all.7By the time I finished the paperwork and got home, it was already dark. The streetlights in the neighborhood were still off; the only light came from the warm yellow glow in windows across the street.The pain in my stomach—there since the afternoon—was still there, gnawing at me. I curled up on the couch, hunger and pain crawling over me. Eventually, I forced myself up and opened the fridge.A wave of rotten air hit me. That’s when I remembered—I hadn’t opened the fridge in over a month.I grabbed a handful of wilted greens, gave them a quick rinse, and dropped them on the cutting board. The knife hit the wood in uneven, shaky thuds.Then, out of nowhere, bright red drops splattered across the green leaves—like a raw, ugly flower blooming.I froze.The pain shot up from my hand—I’d sliced myself. The urge that followed was old and familiar. This time, I didn’t even try to stop it.Scars, old and new, tangled together as another fresh line ran from my forearm to my wrist.The knife clattered to the floor. I knelt there, breathless, gasping.It was getting harder to stop myself. Harder to resist the need to hurt.The doctor once said, Take your meds when you feel it coming on.But I hadn’t.She also said, “Georgia, let your family stay close. Feel loved. It’ll help.”But...I watched the blood winding down my arm.But I don’t have a family.8The food I cooked last night? I didn’t touch it. It all ended up in the trash. Hunger and pain twisted together until I finally passed out on my bed.Early the next morning, someone knocked on the door.Half-awake, I shuffled off the couch, walked to the door, and cracked it open. As soon as I saw who it was, my mind snapped awake.Caleb stood there—his eyes cold as ice, his face blank as ever.On instinct, I slammed the door shut, the metal echoing between us.I rushed to my room, pulled on a sweater, changed into long pants.When I opened the door again, Caleb’s eyes landed on my face, cold enough to make me shiver.