Chapter 3

Phoebe and Lydia quickly figured out the rules of this house.

They imitated how Esme used to act cute, wore her favorite colors, and even mimicked her way of speaking.

Phoebe and Lydia quickly blended into the family.

For their first birthday at the house, Mom prepared two beautiful princess dresses, the style Esme loved when she was alive.

“My dear daughters, try them on. You’ll look beautiful.”

The two girls looked thrilled, “Thank you, Mom!”

The word “Mom” pierced my ears like a knife.

I bit my lip hard, my throat tight.

“Nora, go mop the floor,” Mom said without looking up.

I didn’t move.

“Are you deaf?!” She suddenly raised her voice and threw the remote at me.

I dodged, and the remote grazed my forehead, hitting the wall.

“How dare you dodge?” She rushed over and grabbed my hair, “You killed your own sister, and you don’t even feel guilty? Always with that dead face, it’s bad luck!”

My scalp burned with pain, but I stayed silent.

Lydia stood by, a slight smirk on her lips.

“Aunt, don’t be mad,” she said hypocritically, “Maybe my sister is just in a bad mood.”

“In a bad mood?” Mom sneered, “What right does she have to be in a bad mood? She’s not the one who died!”

My nails dug into my flesh, but I didn’t dare cry.

Crying would make things worse.

At night, I was locked in the storage room and made to kneel as punishment.

“Reflect on yourself!” Mom said before locking the door, “Think about your sister!”

In the dark, I curled up in the corner, my knees pressing against the cold floor.

Laughter came from outside the door.

“Mom, this cake is delicious!” Lydia’s voice drifted in.

“Eat more if you like it,” Mom’s voice was unbelievably gentle.

I closed my eyes, and finally, the tears fell.