I was annoyed and entirely speechless, so I vengefully wrote him into my diary: "I'm a bad girl. How could I have these kinds of feelings for my own brother?" "They say having a brother complex is a sickness. It's not right; I shouldn't be like this." "But I really can't control myself..." From that day on, my brother looked at me like he'd seen a ghost every time we crossed paths. I held back my laughter and doubled down on scaring him in the diary entries. I completely failed to notice that his look of avoidance and panic was gradually morphing into painful, desperate suppression. Until a month later. A wealthy couple, the Sterlings, showed up with a DNA test in hand. Without a word, they hugged my brother and tearfully called him their son. Me: ? 1 Since my earliest memories, my brother, Liam Bennett, was always by my side. When I first learned to talk, the first word I said was his name. My dad said I was so fluent it was like I was born knowing how to say it. At my first birthday party, when a crowd of relatives reached out to hold me, I bypassed them all and grabbed his finger in a death grip. And as a brother, Liam never let anyone down. When I was six, I secretly drank orange-scented dish soap and was rushed to the ER. Liam stayed by my hospital bed for two days and nights, refusing to eat or drink, making himself look like a ghost. When I was eight, I tried to give our elderly neighbor a piggyback ride across the street and got chased by my dad with a rolled-up magazine. Liam shielded me like a mother hen, taking the hits and refusing to move an inch. When I was ten, blowing out my birthday candles, I solemnly made a wish: "I want to be with Liam forever." Liam looked at me and shielded the candle's glow with his hand. I looked up at him in the dim light, hearing him say, word by word: "Harper, you don't need to wish for that." When I was fourteen, Liam watched a TV show where a couple eloped to get a marriage license. He frowned and asked Dad: "Why do they need a license?" Dad laughed and explained: "Because they want to get married. Getting married means they become a legal family." Liam was almost six feet tall by then. Handsome, broad-shouldered, the guy all the girls at school sneaked peeks at. He listened to Dad's words and suddenly understood. "I get it now. Then Harper and I should just get married. We've been a legal family since we were kids." Dad almost dropped his coffee mug. He grabbed a broom from the corner and chased after him. Liam dodged, turning back to ask me earnestly: "Harper, don't you think I'm right?" I didn't even think about it and nodded. "Of course Liam is right." Dad froze, then silently traded the broom for a snow shovel, chasing him even harder. 2 In the blink of an eye, Liam and I had been inseparable, relying on each other as siblings for over twenty years. Last weekend, we had a massive blowout because he wouldn't let me go to a guy friend's birthday party. He couldn't win the argument, so in a fit of anger, he actually recited a paragraph from my private diary. That was when I realized he had been secretly reading my journal. I kicked him hard in the shin, turned around, and stormed upstairs. Sure, I sneaked peeks at his journal too, but I never read it out loud to his face! I just kept it a secret and laughed behind his back. Who acts as shameless as him? What an absolute jerk! The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. To get back at Liam, I deliberately went out and bought a diary with a physical lock. After writing mundane daily entries for half a month, I started scribbling furiously: "I'm a bad girl. How could I have these kinds of feelings for my own brother?" "They say having a brother complex is a sickness. It's not right; I shouldn't be like this." "But I really can't control myself. The internet says our red string of fate is hidden in..." I switched to a red pen and drew a crooked, dramatic heart right over the period. Liam didn't disappoint me. The next day, when he brought a bowl of fruit into my room, his eyes immediately locked onto the diary I had purposely left open on the desk. Maybe he remembered the kick I gave him a few days ago for snooping. Or maybe his conscience finally kicked in, making him realize a brother shouldn't invade his sister's privacy. Either way, he paused for five seconds. But it was only five seconds. His long fingers skillfully flipped open the thin pages. He still had that careless, lazy expression on his face, a hint of a mischievous what's the harm in one look pulling at the corner of his mouth. But after reading just two lines, the smirk vanished instantly. His fingers gripping the diary began to tremble visibly. The veins at his temples throbbed, and his vision clearly swam. Finally, he stumbled back two steps and collapsed heavily into the desk chair, clearly terrified half to death by what he read. I was hiding by the door, watching him look like the sky had just fallen, covering my mouth and laughing so hard I couldn't stand straight. Hehe. That's what you get for reading my diary. Serves you right. 3 Liam practically fled my room. At over six-foot-two, he stumbled out with all limbs flailing, tripping over himself. He didn't even notice me hiding by the door observing him. He dove straight into the bathroom, turning the sink on full blast and aggressively splashing his face with running cold water. I waited until the sound of the water stopped before walking over to ask: "Liam, what's wrong?" The noise inside came to a dead halt. After a long moment, his shaky voice finally sounded: "Nothing..." I let out a casual "Oh" and said, "I'll go back to my room then." "Wait!" The door was yanked open. Liam stood in the doorway, water dripping from his chin, looking at me with a heavily conflicted expression, hesitating to speak. "Harper, do you... is there someone you like recently?" I purposely frowned in confusion. "No? I've been busy applying for internships. I don't have time to think about dating." Liam went silent. He studied me with a grave expression, making sure I wasn't lying, before he breathed a massive sigh of relief and wiped the water from his face. Right. The "brother" in the diary wasn't necessarily him. It could be some older guy I looked up to at school, or a celebrity crush. It's fine, it's fine. The sky hasn't fallen, the family isn't ruined, my sister is still my sister. I suppressed a smirk. "If there's nothing else, I'm going back to my room." I turned around. I pulled a paperback manga out of my backpack and "accidentally" dropped it on the hardwood floor. It made a loud smack in the empty hallway. Liam instinctively looked toward the sound. On the cover, in bright, bold letters: "From Sister to Wife." "..." Liam stopped breathing. Then, he shakily pinched the bridge of his own nose to keep from passing out. 4 Before I could react, Liam snatched the manga off the floor. His eyes were wide, and his voice trembled slightly. "Harper Bennett! If you... if you ever buy this kind of trashy book again, I'm telling Mom!" I lowered my head obediently. "Got it, Liam." He let out an expressionless huff. Then he turned around and practically crawled up the stairs to his room. I watched him leave with a calm facade. Inside, I was screaming with laughter. To confirm I hadn't seen things wrong, I guessed he would definitely sneak into my room tonight to read the diary again. I pulled out my phone, searched for a bunch of angsty quotes, and copied them in: "The brother who raised me suddenly doesn't want to talk to me anymore. Is he annoyed by me? Is he trying to leave me?" "What should I do? What method can I use to keep him forever?" "108 plans to trap my brother by my side for the rest of his life..." I closed the diary. Stretched. Went downstairs to heat up some milk. When I came back, I noticed the diary had been slightly shifted, and there was a faint footprint on the edge of my rug. I took a cozy sip of milk and snuggled into my blankets for a good night's sleep. Half-asleep in the dead of the night, the dead silence next door was shattered by a gut-wrenching wail and something that sounded like a dying donkey. "Dad! Mom! I'm a monster!! Ahhh oooohh..." 5 Early the next morning. I ran into Liam at the top of the stairs. My brain wasn't fully awake yet. Out of habit, I mumbled: "Morning." Liam pressed his lips tightly together but didn't make a sound. He kept a rigid face and sped past me. I froze for a second, then called after his back: "Liam? What's wrong? Why aren't you answering me?" "..." Liam finally stopped. But he didn't turn around. He sounded as cold and distant as an automated customer service line: "Can I help you?" I shivered at his icy tone. Instinctively, I replied: "N-no..." He started walking again, heading downstairs without looking back. Dad was walking out of the kitchen with breakfast, seeing Liam leave me far behind. He laughed: "What's going on with you two? Having a fight?" Before I could speak, Liam, who had just sat down, stood right back up. His tone was cold and firm: "Dad, for me, a sister is a sister. Stop lumping us together." Mom paused upon hearing this. "Well, that's a first. Aren't you two inseparable?" Liam didn't answer right away. He thought for a few seconds, then slowly looked up at me: "Mom, Harper and I are grown up now." "As the saying goes, men and women are different, and we should maintain some boundaries." "Eventually, Harper will get married, and I'll find a wife. We'll be two separate families." "Harper, don't you agree? You can't stick to me forever. I need my own life, and so do you. Do you understand?" I understood perfectly. I just hadn't expected those two pages of the diary to hit him this hard. The overbearing brother who wanted to control my every move was actually initiating distance. And emphasizing his own life... I was shocked. Liam wiped his mouth. He slowly stood up: "I'm full. You guys eat. I'm heading out." He paused, looked at me, and said clearly: "Don't follow me. I'm not taking you anywhere today." Me: "..." Mom finally noticed something was off. She turned to me. "What's wrong with your brother?" I rubbed my temples. "Probably going through a late rebellious phase." Mom's eyes went wide. "He's 26! What kind of rebellious phase is that?!" "Uh... some people are just late bloomers." Mom looked skeptical. "That's way too late..." 6 Liam kept his word. Over the next few days, he left early and came back late, deliberately avoiding any time we might cross paths. Even if we accidentally bumped into each other at home, he would immediately stand up and brush past me with a blank face. I could count the number of times I saw him on one hand. If it weren't for the fact that I could still hear him making weird donkey noises in his room in the middle of the night, I would've thought he hadn't come home at all. Calculating the time, I figured it was about time to confess the truth to him. But the crucial evidence—the diary—had mysteriously vanished. I tore my room apart looking for it, sweating bullets. If my parents found those entries, it would be the absolute end of our family peace! Just as I was panting from exhaustion, my best friend Olivia called, inviting me out to a club. I glanced at the time and instinctively wanted to refuse; Liam would never let me out this late. But then I reconsidered. He had been distancing himself because of the diary. Maybe he wouldn't care anymore... I thought for two seconds, agreed to go, and hurried downstairs to find him. He was sitting on the couch reading a book. The warm yellow lamplight hit the side of his face, his eyelashes casting a small shadow over his eyes. Just sitting there, his mood felt inexplicably gloomy, like a brooding movie star. I stopped walking: "Liam, Olivia invited me to go out for a bit. I probably won't be back until tomorrow morning..." My voice dropped. His hand paused mid-page turn. I waited for a long time without getting an answer. I asked again softly: "Can I go?" "Why wouldn't you?" After a long silence, he finally spoke, smiling. He calmly pressed down his slightly trembling fingertips: "Of course you can. We both need our own lives. I won't control you anymore. Go have fun..." My eyes lit up: "Really? Are you telling the truth?" He kept smiling. His voice was very soft. Almost hollow: "Of course. Didn't I say it the other day? We both need our own lives. We're free. You are free, Harper..." I practically skipped upstairs: "Awesome! I'll get changed and head out! Bye!" Liam slowly dropped his smile. He tossed the book aside. His voice remained gentle: "Okay, bye..." 7 Being heavily managed by Liam for the past few years meant my closet was practically empty of anything suitable for a club. But things were looking up now! He wasn't hovering over me like a helicopter parent anymore. I even debated whether I should just tell him the truth about the diary right now. Whatever. I'll think about it later. I pulled every dress out of my closet and tossed them onto the bed. I held them up to the mirror one by one. White dress? Too plain. Black dress? Too boring. This off-the-shoulder one? The neckline was a bit low, and the back was completely open. I held it against myself in the mirror, debating if I should try it on. Suddenly, the back of my neck prickled. A cold draft hit my spine, and a strong sense of unease washed over me. I instinctively looked up at the mirror. In the reflection. Liam was standing quietly in the half-open doorway. I gasped sharply. I didn't know how long he had been standing there. I didn't know when he came up. I didn't know how he managed to walk without making a single sound. He just stood there. Half his body hidden in the hallway's shadow. The other half illuminated by my room's light. Revealing a completely expressionless face. He was looking at me. It wasn't that deliberate, distant gaze from before. It was something heavy, sticky, and hard to read. It pierced through the mirror, landing right on me, and then specifically on the backless dress in my hands. 8 I almost dropped the dress. I turned to look at him: "Liam, what are you doing standing there? You scared me..." It was as if my words yanked him out from some dark depth. He snapped out of it. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. When he opened them, they were calm again. He leaned against the doorframe. He shrugged helplessly: "Nothing. Just passing by." "Come on, Harper. Don't I have to walk past your room to get to mine?" His tone was so relaxed it felt like the terrifying presence I saw in the mirror a second ago was a hallucination. I stared at him for two seconds. Realization dawned: "I get it. You actually don't want me to go, right?" He paused. Then he curled his lips into a light, effortless smile, mixed with a hint of resigned indulgence. "How could that be? I haven't changed my mind. Don't overthink it." "Harper, I stand by what I said. We're both free. What kind of brother obsessively monitors his sister?" "It was fine before you turned eighteen, but now? Isn't it just annoying and redundant? I'm not that bored..." As he spoke, his eyes seemed pulled down against his will. Landing on the dress in my hands again. Just a quick glance. He immediately looked away: "Don't worry, I won't control you anymore. You can go out and have fun however you want." "Alright, pick your outfit. I won't bother you." "Oh, right. If you run out of money, just ask me. You can't go out without money." 9 His footsteps faded down the hall. But I stood frozen in place for a long time. This was the Nth time today. Liam had mentioned he wouldn't control me anymore. My slow brain finally picked up on how strange this was. He said it too decisively, too smoothly, like a script he had rehearsed a hundred times in his head. I held my breath. A terrifying thought surfaced in my mind. Did he already want to draw a line between us even before he saw my diary? Was he already sick of me? Did he stop wanting me as a sister? Diary or no diary, was he planning to abandon me anyway? Did my prank diary just give him the perfect excuse?! The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I hugged my arms tightly, my fingertips touching ice-cold skin. When I was ten, Liam promised me he would stay with me forever. He was only twenty-six now. Had he forgotten everything? Or was I the only one who ever remembered? I gritted my teeth. I raised my hand. And threw the dress hard against the mirror.
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