It wasn't until three years after I died that my parents finally came to my boarding school to visit me. And only because my sister’s kidney disease had worsened, and she urgently needed a transplant. Clutching the donation agreement, they searched everywhere but couldn't find a trace of me. When they asked my teacher about my whereabouts, he let out a cold laugh. "That neglected orphan? She had stage-four stomach cancer. She was rushed to the hospital right after she enrolled. Resuscitation failed. She’s been dead for a long time." My parents, however, were convinced I was conspiring with the teacher to lie to them. My dad was furious: "That wretched girl isn't studying; she must have run off to party and sleep around!" "Please pass this message to her: if she doesn't show her face within three days, we are disowning her. We won't send her a single cent for living expenses ever again!" The teachers looked at each other in confusion, asking: "What living expenses? There hasn't been a penny in her account since the day she arrived." 1. "Where did she run off to? Not even in school during class hours!" My parents kicked the dorm room door open with zero patience. The room was empty. In the corner, the bed with my name tag on it was covered in a thick layer of dust, choking the air and making them cough. They hurriedly shielded my sister, Hailey, behind them. "Don't go in there, Hailey. Don't let that jinx's filth affect you." The commotion was so loud that the house mother, Mrs. Higgins, stormed up the stairs, hands on her hips. "You people have the wrong room! The only person assigned to this dorm was an orphan with no parents." My mom raised an eyebrow, letting out a sharp, cold scoff. Her words dripped with acid: "Pathological liar. She’s probably out messing around with some wild boyfriend, isn't she? Doesn't even come back to the dorm." My dad chimed in, "She’s a disgrace to the family. If Hailey wasn't sick, I wouldn't even bother looking for her! She's humiliated us enough." Mrs. Higgins stood frozen for a long time before she spoke. "She wasn't messing around. When she enrolled, she was already in the late stages of cancer. She had no money for treatment. She passed away three years ago." The three of them looked stunned for a split second before erupting into mocking laughter. "Don't joke around. She was as strong as an ox. How could she have stomach cancer?" "How much did Winter pay you to lie like this?!" With that, Dad shoved a few crisp bills into Mrs. Higgins' hand. His face was twisted with impatience. "I don't care where she's hiding. Please tell her that if she doesn't show up within three days, we are cutting ties. She won't get another dime from us!" Mrs. Higgins fingered the brand-new banknotes, looking up suspiciously to scan my parents' attire. Designer suits, luxury jewelry, expensive watches. "Such rich relatives," she shook her head with pity. "If only you had come three years ago." "That little girl never spent a dime because she didn't have one! She couldn't even afford the cheapest painkillers. In the end, she died screaming for her mom and dad, literally tortured to death by the pain." 2. She wasn't wrong. Before I died, I was consumed by despair and agony. I ended up becoming a wandering spirit, tethered to this world. My parents dismissed Mrs. Higgins' words entirely. They quickly drove Hailey back to the hospital, exhausting their connections to find a kidney source just to extend her life. If they had spared even a fraction of that energy on me, they could have easily found my death certificate online. But they didn't. Wasting half a day to look for their "ungrateful" daughter was already the biggest sacrifice they were willing to make. Hailey was the pearl in their palm, spoiled and adored. I was the unwelcome second child, the "accident" that cost them opportunities, the jinx of the family. So, I accepted the favoritism. Three years ago, I got into a prestigious private high school on a full academic scholarship. For a moment, my parents actually paid attention to me. But my joy didn't last long. Hailey had an accident. She fell down the stairs at my birthday party, breaking both legs. "Winter pushed me!" She buried her face in Mom's chest, sobbing softly, but I saw the flash of cunning in her eyes. She had jumped down herself! No one listened to my defense. My parents were furious. They immediately canceled my enrollment at the elite school. I was dumped into a cheap, remote boarding school. Hailey was hurt "badly," so they stayed by her side 24/7. I had to go handle my own enrollment alone. When filling out the forms, the admissions teacher called my parents countless times. No answer. It wasn't until half a day later that Mom finally picked up, impatient. "My daughter needs rest after surgery. Stop harassing us!" "I only have one daughter, Hailey. I don't know anyone named Winter!" Click. She hung up. The teachers looked at me with pity and marked "Orphan" on my file. I wiped my tears and tried to pay the tuition with the debit card they gave me. But the cold electronic voice announced: "Insufficient funds." No money, no love. I forced myself to work odd jobs everywhere just to cover tuition, but my body, ruined by years of irregular eating, finally broke down. Stage four stomach cancer. I needed a huge sum for treatment. But I couldn't get through to my parents' phones. The teachers assumed I was truly an orphan. After a small fundraising effort, even they were out of options. Alone, curled up in the corner of a hospital ward, the pain made my bones shake. I still held onto hope. Mom and Dad will come. I can still be saved. In the endless waiting, the pain eroded my nerves, and death quietly arrived. 3. I had been squeezed into a crowded ward, ignored by everyone. Hailey, however, enjoyed a VIP suite with doctors regularly checking in on her. "Winter still hasn't forgiven me," she whispered. Her eyes were red, her voice trembling with grievance. "It's my fault for making her jealous... I don't blame her for pushing me down the stairs three years ago..." Dad’s heart broke for her. He gently wiped her tear-free face and said: "She bullied you like that, and you're still defending her? You're too kind for your own good!" "Don't worry, Hailey. Mom and Dad will find that wretched girl and make her donate her kidney." After soothing Hailey, Dad walked out of the room. His eyes turned cold as he pressed the call button hard. The screen lit up with "Winter"—my name. The mechanical ringtone echoed through the empty hallway. I was dead. Who was going to answer the phone? 4. The three-day deadline passed. Naturally, they couldn't find me. Furious, they stormed back to the school. "You call yourselves educators, yet you help a student scam her parents?!" Mom scolded every teacher she saw, stomping her foot in anxiety. "My daughter's kidney disease is worsening, she can't wait any longer! How much did Winter pay you? I'll pay double! No, ten times!" The teachers were exasperated, explaining until their mouths were dry. Finally, someone slammed their hand on the desk. It was my homeroom teacher, Mr. Lewis. He had always sympathized with me. When I fell ill, he took care of me the most. Seeing my parents acting so arrogantly, Mr. Lewis couldn't hold back his anger. "Our school might not be elite, but we don't joke about life and death!" "You abandoned the child here without a care, and now you want to make a scene?!" "Get out and go to the hospital to check her medical records!" I always had stomach issues. The records clearly documented every step from ulcer to cancer. I had once timidly handed those records to my parents, hoping they would take me to a big hospital for a checkup. Instead, they "discovered" that the painkillers I was taking were just vitamins! Hailey had tugged at Dad’s shirt, acting cute: "Winter just wants attention. That's why she's taking vitamins and pretending to be sick." They hugged Hailey and tore up my medical records without a second glance, throwing the pieces in my face. "Learning to lie at such a young age? If you try to scam us with fake reports again, we'll disown you for real!" But my pale face from the pain, the blood in my vomit... None of that was fake. They just chose not to see it. After that day, I never mentioned my stomach pain again. Until it was too late.
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