Chapter 4

"Besides, these things originally belonged to Asher. If he were still here, he would probably have given it to Phoebe too."

As soon as Archer's words fell, tears welled up in Dad's eyes. "Who does she think she is?"

The very next second, a slap whipped across my face with a gust of wind.

Dad's face contorted, making him look just like an evil spirit. He glared at me as if I was his mortal enemy he wanted to kill. "Ash should never have saved you, you ungrateful wretch! Why wasn't it you who died?"

My vision went red as blood pooled in my ruptured eye. The crimson hue flooded my retina, and through the haze, I thought I saw 18-year-old Asher in bloodstained sneakers, shooting hoops in the yard. Slowly, I extended my hand. "Save me, Asher. Take me with you!"

Seeing my reaction, Mom and Dad hurriedly turned around to look behind them. But how could Asher possibly be there?

Assuming I was playing mind games, Dad swung his fist at my face once more. The harder he hit me, the more violently his fists trembled.

Mom, who was beside him, lowered her head, as if she couldn't bring herself to watch anymore. For a fleeting moment, I thought I caught a flicker of heartache in Mom's and Dad's eyes. However, it was eclipsed by pure, unadulterated hate.

In a heartbeat, grief, self-reproach, regret, and sorrow swirled in my heart. I was well aware that Asher, who had sacrificed his life to save me, would never have wished for me to go through this. Yet, I couldn't help but feel like I deserve punishment.

It was less about enduring suffering and more about atonement. This self-inflicted suffering was the only thing that kept my overwhelming guilt from keeping me awake all night.

…

After that farce of a birthday banquet, I became completely invisible in my own home.

Then came the day Archer beat everyone else back home. He was on the phone with someone. "I sold the sneakers for 500 thousand dollars. Then, I spent 300 dollars to have an exact replica made. Those idiots in the Sullivan family won't suspect a thing.

"Don't sweat it. I've already swapped a bunch of the Sullivans' valuables for fakes and sold them off on the sly. The dead guy's things are worth the most; I made a fortune off them. Even if I do get caught, I'll just pin it all on that jinx!"

Archer thought he was home alone, so he bragged to the person on the other end of the line without a care in the world. Little did he know, I was crouched in the corner of the kitchen. I had intended to sneak some food to quiet my growling stomach, but I ended up overhearing his secret.

My mind spun with the words he had just uttered. "The dead guy's things are worth the most…" He had sold Asher's belongings, which were all he had left behind in this world.

"How could you do this, Archer? Mom and Dad are so good to you! Why would you lie to them? Give me back my brother's belongings—"

Just then, the front door swung open, and Mom and Dad walked in. Seeing me throw myself at Archer, they immediately demanded, "What do you think you're doing now, Phoebe?"

Startled, I stumbled and almost lost my footing. "Mom, Dad, Archer sold—"

Before I could finish speaking, Archer grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me backward. "How dare you frame me! Mom, Dad, Phoebe's been secretly stealing valuables from the house to sell them off! I caught her red-handed, so she tried to pin it on me.

"When that didn't work, she tried to bolt. I feel so bad for you both. Phoebe, not only did you cause Asher's death, but you're now even eyeing the family's property!"

After hearing that, the hatred in Mom's and Dad's eyes could no longer be concealed.