Chapter 2

Chloe stubbed her cigarette out on the wall, looking at me playfully. "You're not going to be unable to accept reality and hang yourself in your room tonight, are you?"

"If you're going to die, do it at your own place. Don't ruin our property value."

She always spoke so cuttingly. Before, no matter what she said, I would always laugh and try to get closer to her.

But this time, I said nothing.

I had once imagined a happy passing, surrounded by my parents. My only regret was not having a good relationship with Chloe.

But now, I was about to lose all the family I loved most.

"Aren't you going to say your New Year's wish?" Chloe pulled a small box from her pocket. "Since you look so pathetic, I'll indulge you this year. I've got a little trinket for you—"

I ignored her and ran off.

Back in my room, I buried myself under the covers. I didn't want to cry out loud, just bit the corner of the duvet and sobbed, my chest aching.

In the dead of night, I was half-asleep, half-awake, burning with fever.

I clearly heard my parents' conversation outside the door.

"In a couple of days, we'll send Liam back. He's been occupying our son's life for too many years." That was Dad's voice.

"I always thought he didn't look like either of us."

Mom's voice sharpened. "Look at him, he can't learn anything well. Eight years of piano lessons, and he can't even play a full Chopin Nocturne. Painting, dance—what is he good at? All these years, he's had an elite education, yet he's still not as exceptional as our Ethan. Hmph, it's truly a base streak in his genes, just like his real parents."

"Forget it, we won't send him back," Dad said. "We've raised him for so many years; he should contribute something to our family."

"Go see if any families are looking for a marriage alliance. We can marry him off for some benefit. Doesn't Mr. Harrison have a daughter? Even if she has some issues, we can ask for a smaller dowry."

I wanted to cry and beg them to stop.

Please, stop. Why did fate have to make me learn all this right before I died, shattering my beautiful dream?

But my limbs were stiff, I couldn't move, couldn't fully wake up. My body felt nailed to the bed, my consciousness floating.

They never loved me after all.

All that tenderness, all that doting, was just for the "Hayes family's golden boy" identity.

Now that the real one was back, I, the impostor, had to exit the stage, preferably after being squeezed for every last drop of value.

A moment later, the door opened.

A cool hand rested on my forehead.

"Whoa, such poor coping skills. This little bit of news scared you into a fever. Should've known not to tell you." Her voice held its familiar mockery.

I wanted to retort: I'm sick, not weak! But I couldn't make a sound, only a faint gasp escaped my throat.

"Why are you so delicate? You're not the golden boy anymore, so stop acting like a spoiled brat."

She half-hugged me, her movements unexpectedly gentle. With her other hand, she held a cup, and the bitter medicine was poured into my mouth. I frowned, wanting to spit it out, but she pinched my chin and made me swallow.

"Swallow it," she commanded.

Then I heard Mom say, "Is Liam sick? Why didn't he call the family doctor?"

My heart warmed. Mom still cared about me; I knew she wouldn't completely stop loving me.

Then she spoke again, "I've arranged a blind date for him in a couple of days. What if he looks sickly and they don't want him?"

So that's how it was.

I thought I would cry, but I was surprisingly calm.

Maybe it was because I was going to die soon.

Once a person dies, everything dissipates, so nothing really matters anymore.

Chloe put me back on the bed and tucked me in.

She stood by the bed for a while. My eyes were closed, but I could feel her gaze.

"Such a pain," she finally said, and her footsteps receded, the door closing softly.