Chapter 4

Barbara picked up a shard of broken porcelain from the floor and slashed it across her wrist.

Mom instantly panicked, hugging Barbara in distress and stopping her from continuing to harm herself.

Dad looked at me with anguish, his eyes ice-cold. "Did you deliberately lie about having parents in the mirror to make Barbara feel guilty enough to cut her wrist?"

"We've been so good to you. How can you be so vicious and come up with such twisted ideas?"

I shook my head violently, tears blurring my vision. "Dad, I'm not lying..."

But Dad wouldn't listen to my explanation. He said goodbye to the relatives and drove Barbara to the hospital.

After the relatives left, I was the only one standing there in a daze.

I'd already tried my best. Why wouldn't Mom and Dad believe me?

Barbara's wrist wound wasn't deep, so there was nothing serious.

But Mom and Dad still took turns staying by her side, afraid something else might happen to her.

I could only see them when they came home to cook for Barbara.

But whenever I got close, Mom and Dad would unconsciously push me away, distancing themselves from me.

"Somerville, stop hovering around us."

"You've already driven Barbara to cut her wrist. Do you have to see Barbara die before you're satisfied?"

I shook my head, looking completely wronged. "Mom, I don't know why Barbara cut her wrist either, but I really didn't want to see Barbara die."

Even when Barbara had emotional breakdowns and scalded me with hot water from her cup, or cut my bangs with scissors, I never resented her.

After all, Barbara got sick because of me.

If I, the second child, didn't exist, Barbara wouldn't have gotten sick.

And Mom and Dad wouldn't have to frown all day long.

But hearing Mom say these things still made my heart ache.

Two days later, Barbara was discharged and came home.

After coming home, Barbara was much more active than before.

Besides calling out "Mom" and "Dad," she could also speak some simple sentences.

According to Mom, it was when she cried like a mess that Barbara felt sorry for her and started speaking.

But I'd been trying to guide Barbara to speak for years, and she never responded.

Why did Barbara start talking as soon as Mom cried?

Holding the doll the mom in the mirror had given me, I quietly pushed open Barbara's door.

But I saw Mom and Dad sitting at Barbara's bedside, gently coaxing her:

"Barbara, from now on, just rest and recover at home. No matter how much Somerville tries to compete with you for our attention, Mom will only love you."

"Dad feels the same way. That's why we've been deliberately ignoring Somerville these past few days to teach her a lesson."

Barbara's eyes reddened as she slowly spoke, "Don't... blame Somerville. She's still young."

"If only I didn't exist..."

Hearing Barbara say this made Mom and Dad both angry and distressed.

Dad put his arm around Barbara's shoulder and gently promised, "Silly child, don't talk nonsense. You'll always be Mom and Dad's precious treasure."

"Somerville has complicated thoughts. We're planning to send her to Colleen's house for discipline for a while. Once you're better, we'll bring her back home."

The doll in my hand slipped and fell to the floor.