Chapter 4

The pulling force disappeared.

My mother instinctively let go.

It wasn't until I returned to my room and closed the door that her dissatisfied muttering drifted over faintly.

[Anna is really strange today.]

[Could she have found out that Ella being a porcelain doll is fake!]

I ignored the shocked comments.

My gaze swept across mine and Ella's room.

Bunk beds.

She had the bottom, I had the top.

Because my mother was afraid she'd be in danger climbing the ladder.

I rubbed the thick calluses on my palms.

All these years I'd relied on these hands to climb up and down.

At first, I fell countless times.

I'd asked my mother many times to change to two single beds, but it always came to nothing.

It seemed like my requests were never fulfilled.

The comments paused for a moment.

[Don't you think Anna is kind of pitiful?]

[Pitiful? She's just a tool to protect Ella. That's her mission.]

I smiled bitterly.

The front door opened and closed.

My father was home.

His first words were usually to ask about Ella.

Then, after noticing I wasn't shadowing and protecting Ella as usual, he'd ask about me.

It wasn't hard to guess what my mother would tell my father.

The bedroom door was soon knocked on.

"Anna, come out. I have something to say to you."

I didn't respond.

My father quickly lost patience.

The door was pushed open forcefully, slamming into the cabinet behind it.

That was the only space in the entire room that belonged to me.

From the impact, the dance costume and shoes hanging on the cabinet fell to the floor.

My father didn't even look before stepping on them.

It lay quietly on the ground.

Just like me.

"Anna, what kind of tantrum are you throwing today?" my father's voice was heavy.

He was truly angry.

My mother snorted coldly behind him:

"This girl must be resentful because we keep making her protect Ella!"

My father immediately put on a stern face, looking at me disapprovingly:

"Anna, you're the older sister. Isn't it natural for you to protect Ella?"

"What's more, Ella is a porcelain doll!"

What about my father?

Did my father know Ella's illness was fake?

The question was almost on my lips, but my father's voice drowned everything out.

"Your mother says you're tired. What's so tiring about sitting in a wheelchair all day?"

My heart suddenly felt hollow.

The answer didn't seem to matter anymore.

I pressed my lips together, silently enduring my parents' barrage of accusations.

Finally, they seemed tired of talking and looked at me with confusion.

Probably wondering why I'd suddenly changed.

My mother's eyes were ice-cold:

"Fine, be stubborn. You don't get any steak either!"

Being denied food was too normal a punishment.

After going hungry enough times, I guess I got used to it.

They turned and left the living room without closing the door.

The three of them laughed and chatted happily at the dinner table.

The comments weren't as active as before.

[Anna's silhouette is making me cry.]

[It's okay, it's okay. Tomorrow Anna's nightmare as a tool will end. After she saves Ella on stage and ends up bedridden, my parents will feel too guilty to make Anna protect Ella anymore.]

I stared at the comment before me for a long time, then laughed.

Was it because of guilt?

It was clearly because I'd be bedridden and unable to protect Ella anymore.