Chapter 3

Archer was trashing the very thing Asher had dreamed of owning but never could. My grip tightened around the rag until my knuckles turned white. I silently lowered my head, forcing myself to endure it.

"Isn't this the jinx who killed the eldest son of the Sullivan family?" one of the scions behind Archer scoffed, gazing at me. "I can't believe the Sullivans are still keeping her around."

Of course Mom and Dad had to keep me around. If they kicked me out of the house, who else would they have left to torment? How else could they make me atone for Asher's death?

"Are you deaf? Can't you hear me?" Archer abruptly brought his foot down onto the back of my hand, the heel of his expensive sneaker grinding mercilessly into my knuckles. An excruciating pain shot through every single cell in my body, and I could even hear the sound of my knuckle bones fracturing.

"You're not my brother. What gives you the right to wear the shoes he never got to wear before he died? You don't even share the same blood as me! How dare you monopolize everything that belonged to Asher!" I snapped, unable to hold it in any longer.

My outburst was cut short by his slap. "I'm the heir of the Sullivan family now, and I'll be the one inheriting the family business. You're nothing but a jinx. Do you actually think you're worthy of competing with me?"

I was thrown to the ground by Archer like an unwanted rag.

Just then, Dad walked over from a distance and kicked me hard in the head. "If you don't want to be here, crawl back to the basement. Don't make a damn scene in front of my guests."

My head hit the ground hard from the impact. My body began to twitch uncontrollably, and my consciousness started to slip away.

"I'm sorry, Asher. I don't want bubble tea anymore. Please don't leave me… I really can't hold on much longer…" I thought to myself before the darkness closed in.

…

I had no idea how I made it back to the basement. When I came to, a rat was gnawing on my fingernails. I wanted to reach out and stroke it, but it took fright and immediately scurried off into the shadows.

"Would you look at that? Even a rat thinks I'm bad luck and doesn't want to be my friend," I mused.

As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I heard voices at the entrance of the basement. "It's the charm Mom and Dad went all the way to the church to get for my protection. It represents their love for me, and now it's suddenly gone missing. Could someone be jealous of the love I receive from them—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, the basement door was violently kicked open. Several people barged in but were immediately driven back a few steps, gagging on the damp, stagnant odor of mold. Various pairs of shoes trampled over the floor, kicking up clouds of dust. Grimacing in disgust, they began tearing the place apart. Ultimately, among a pile of cluttered junk, they found a protection charm.

The guests' murmurs crashed over me like a tidal wave.

"I knew it! A leopard can't change its spots. The jinx of the Sullivan family is pure evil. Not only did she get her own biological brother killed, but she's now trying to steal her adopted brother's protective charm to get him killed too. Clearly, she wants to wipe out the Sullivans so she can hoard all of her family's inheritance for herself."

"I heard the eldest son of the Sullivan family, who died, was incredibly close to her. What an idiot, letting himself be killed by the sister he doted on the most."

Their venomous words ripped through me, and my eyes widened in rage. I tried to push myself up from the ground, intending to argue with them.

I was no thief, and Asher certainly wasn't a fool. He was the best brother in the world.

"If Phoebe likes it, why don't we just give it to her? It's normal for girls to like charms." Archer lowered his gaze. The look on his face bore a disturbing resemblance to how Asher used to look when he took the blame for my mistakes.