The day my parents died, I threw my sick sister out on the street. She was left homeless, starving, and freezing, and I turned a blind eye. My relatives called me a heartless monster. I ignored them. I forced her to sign away her inheritance, and she knelt on the floor, begging and sobbing until she could barely breathe. “Mom and Dad are barely cold in their graves,” she cried. “How can you be so cruel?” I laughed. “What are the dead going to do about it?” When she collapsed on the street from her illness, I cheered. I was ecstatic. The next day, the hashtag #ViciousSisterStealsInheritanceAndAbandonsDyingSibling went viral. I leaned back on my sofa, scrolling through the thousands of death threats, and casually sipped a glass of red wine. “Cry all you want. Curse me all you want,” I murmured to my phone. “The house, the money… it’s all mine now.” 01 At our parents’ funeral, I made my sister, Ruby, sign a waiver forfeiting her entire inheritance. The moment I had the signed papers in my hand, I started throwing her luggage out the front door, piece by piece. One of the suitcases cracked open on the pavement, her clothes spilling out onto the dirty ground. Ruby’s lips trembled, her eyes wide with disbelief and helplessness. “What?” I said, crossing my arms. “You really think a charity case like you gets to stay here?” She bit her lip so hard I was surprised it didn’t bleed, her whole body shaking. “Ava… how could you do this to me?” “What else did you expect?” I cut her off impatiently before she could say more. “Mom and Dad are gone. I’m not carrying a dead weight like you.” Her tears stopped instantly. Her face went deathly pale. I took a step closer, my gaze cold. “Are you going to get out, or do I have to make you?” Despair washed over her face. She couldn't process it. “Ava, why? We’re sisters… we’re family…” “Get out,” I said, pointing to the door. “I won’t say it again. You are not my problem anymore.” “Ava, you’ve gone too far!” My sudden outburst stunned everyone into silence. After a moment, one of our aunts finally found her voice. She stepped forward, her face red with anger. “Your sister is so pitiful. How can you be so heartless?” “You feel sorry for her?” I raised an eyebrow. “Great. You can take her home and look after her.” The aunt’s mouth opened, then closed. She didn’t say a word. “What’s the matter? Scared?” I scanned the room, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “She’s a bottomless pit of need! Any of you saints want to take her off my hands?” The faces of my relatives soured, but no one dared to speak. I let out a cold laugh. “Since none of you want her, what right do you have to tell me what to do?” Ruby’s sobs grew louder. She clutched the waiver, tears splashing onto the paper as she crumpled to the floor. I was done wasting my breath. I strode over, yanked her up from the ground, and shoved her out the door. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” I slammed the door on Ruby’s wailing and the muttered curses of my relatives, locking them all out. If she lived or died, what did it have to do with me? 02 Alone in the spacious house, I had the best night’s sleep I’d had in years. I woke up to my phone vibrating itself off the nightstand. #ViciousSisterStealsInheritanceAndAbandonsDyingSibling One of my relatives had posted a video of me throwing Ruby out. It was the number one trending topic, a furious, viral red. I clicked on it. A tidal wave of hatred washed over me. “Is this sister a demon? Kicking out her own sibling? Is she even human?” “So she’s rich and powerful, so what? That poor girl was sobbing her heart out, and she didn’t even flinch.” “Someone find this trash. We need to dox her. Don’t let her get away with this!” The comments section was a warzone. And below it, someone had already posted my personal information. My full name, my phone number, my home address, and even my work address had been leaked. My phone started ringing incessantly, one unknown number after another. I answered one. As expected, a torrent of abuse. “Ava, you’re going to burn in hell!” “You deserve to die alone!” “I hope you get struck by lightning, you piece of scum—” Click. I hung up and blocked the number. My screen kept flashing with notifications. My relatives were making the rounds on the news channels, weeping dramatically as if they’d just witnessed a murder. My uncle pounded his chest for the camera. “I just can’t understand how she became like this! She used to be such a good, sensible girl!” My aunt dabbed her eyes, going through a whole pack of tissues. “That poor child… kicked out by her own sister. What is she going to do now?” The camera then cut to Ruby. She was looking down, tears falling one by one, her voice choked with sobs. “Does my sister… does she really not care about me at all anymore?” Tsk. She looked so pathetic. A reporter gently prompted her, “Is there anything you’d like to say to your sister?” Ruby sniffled. “Ava… I really need you… Please, can’t you stop being so cruel?” On screen, she was a picture of frail, helpless beauty, her face stained with tears. The internet absolutely erupted. “Damn, that made me want to cry.” “She just wanted her sister, and she got kicked to the curb. How broken must she feel?” “How has this monster not gotten what she deserves yet?” I leaned back on my sofa, sipping my coffee, and slowly scrolled through my phone. Ruby was useless. Why should I pity her? BANG! Someone was pounding on my front door downstairs. I peeked through the curtains. A mob had already gathered outside, holding signs. “HAVE YOU NO SHAME?” “JUSTICE FOR RUBY!” “GIVE BACK THE INHERITANCE!” A few angry-looking men were trying to break down the door. Someone else threw an egg at my window, the yolk slowly dripping down the glass. My phone buzzed again. It was a text from my boss. Ava, the company has received too many complaints. Don't come in for now. Let this blow over. Ha. He caved quickly. Another call came in. A reporter. Her voice was trembling with rage. “Do you know your sister slept on a park bench last night? She hasn’t had a single hot meal! You cold-blooded monster, does your conscience not hurt at all?!” I glanced out the window. The crowd of protestors was growing. I picked up my phone, let out a lazy yawn, and murmured into the receiver. “It’d be easier if she were dead.” The line went silent. Then came a hysterical scream. 03 After two days of relaxing at home, I decided to go to work. The moment I pushed open the office door, the entire floor went silent. A few coworkers pretended to be busy, but their eyes darted away nervously. The office gossip, who normally lived for this kind of drama, wouldn’t even look in my direction. I smirked, walked to my desk, and had just turned on my computer when my manager called out, “Ava, the director wants to see you.” In the conference room, the director’s face was grim. “The company is aware of your situation.” I smiled. “Okay.” He frowned. “This has had a huge impact. Our partners are questioning our company’s values.” “And?” I stirred my coffee slowly. “You need to find a way to resolve this yourself. Don’t drag the company down with you.” “So you’re telling me to resign?” He didn’t answer. That was answer enough. I nodded, put down my cup, and stood up to leave. As I walked out, the security guard at the front desk gave me a long, complicated look. I pulled out my phone and clicked on a news alert. VICIOUS SISTER SCANDAL CONTINUES TO EXPLODE. VICTIM SISTER HOMELESS, SUSPECTED MENTAL BREAKDOWN! The comments were on fire. “Scum. Animal! A person like this doesn’t deserve to live!” “For the love of God, fire her already! Do corporations have no soul?” “Hasn't anyone beaten her up yet??” Such a bunch of busybodies. I shook my head, a cold smile on my lips. As I approached my apartment building, I was hit by the sharp, acrid smell of spray paint. Someone had vandalized my front door. “DEMON SISTER” and “DIE IN HELL” were scrawled across the wall in crooked, dripping red letters. Someone had also intentionally scattered trash and dead flowers all over the hallway. A gust of wind from an open window sent debris swirling around my feet. Tsk. Such poor taste. I stepped over the mess and was about to unlock my door when I heard a commotion from the stairwell. My relatives had arrived. My aunt was in the lead, flanked by a few of my cousins, all of them looking furious. “Ava! You cold-hearted bitch! If you don’t bring your sister home today, we’re not leaving!” My uncle slammed his cane on the floor. “Even an animal has more humanity than you! Your sister is starving and cold, where is your heart?!” One of my male cousins rolled up his sleeves, his eyes full of menace. “Maybe we should throw her out on the street, see how she likes it.” “Are you done?” I yawned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You’re all so righteous, aren’t you? She’s so pitiful, right? Fine. Which one of you is taking her in?” Silence. “What? No takers?” I sneered. “So easy to talk big, isn’t it? You don’t want the responsibility, so you try to force it on me?” My aunt’s face turned the color of a ripe tomato. “You’re going to get what you deserve!” she shrieked. “Is that so?” I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. “I’d like to report a home invasion and multiple threats against my person.” The police arrived in less than ten minutes. My relatives were escorted out, cursing and grumbling, but they scattered. But then came the real pests: the reporters. A whole pack of them was blocking the building entrance. They swarmed me, shoving cameras and microphones in my face. “Ms. Ava, how do you respond to the accusations online?” “Your sister is penniless. Do you feel no guilt whatsoever?” “Can you explain why you forced her to sign away her inheritance?” The camera flashes were blinding. I casually brushed a strand of hair from my face and gave them a lazy smile. “You all feel so sorry for her, don't you?” Facing the cameras, I slowly tilted my chin up, my tone dripping with disdain. “Fine. Then you can pay for her.” The reporters’ faces froze. The air grew thick. And then, the viewers watching the live feed lost their minds. “IS THIS WOMAN INSANE???” “DOES SHE LITERALLY NOT HAVE A HEART???” “I WANT TO KICK DOWN HER DOOR AND DRAG HER OUT BY HER HAIR!!!” The internet’s rage hit a fever pitch. My haters organized, launching a campaign to “socially execute” me, digging into every corner of my past. “I heard her grades in elementary school were terrible. Her teachers probably knew she was evil even back then.” “Her college roommate needs to speak up! I bet she was a manipulative snake!” “What about her boyfriend? Why hasn’t he dumped her yet?” Within a day, my social life was nuked from orbit. A former coworker: Are you crazy? An old classmate: Do you have any conscience at all? My ex-boyfriend: Delete my number. Don't ever contact me again. They all thought they could break me with their moral superiority. How naive. That evening, I posted a photo to my social media. A lavish dinner. Steak, foie gras, truffles, and a bottle of expensive red wine. The caption: Delicious. 04 After a few days of quiet, the online narrative began to shift. It was no longer just about cursing me; the main theme was now "pity for the sister." Because Ruby had posted a long, personal essay. I Don't Want the Inheritance, I Just Want a Home. It was accompanied by a blurry selfie. She was wrapped in a thin, filthy blanket, curled up under a bridge. Her eyes were helpless, her face smudged with dirt and tear tracks. “I never wanted to fight with my sister over money. After our parents passed, I thought she was all I had left. I never imagined she hated me so much.” “I have no money. When I’m hungry, I have to dig through trash cans. I sleep under a bridge at night, and a homeless man stole my jacket… Sometimes, I really don’t see the point in living anymore…” In just a few hours, the post was shared over a hundred thousand times. “Omg, I’m actually crying…” “How can a sister be so cruel? Making her own flesh and blood sleep under a bridge?!” “Can someone please help her?” In the comments, hordes of people offered to send her money. Someone even started a crowdfunding campaign for her to rent an apartment. The funny thing was, these "Good Samaritans" were sending her $5 or $10 at a time. Not a single one offered to actually take her in. Even funnier, my relatives were back at it. They cornered me in a cafe near my apartment, putting on a grand show of a "righteous tribunal." “Ava!” my uncle slammed his cane on the table, his face livid. “Your sister is living on the streets! Are you really going to let her die out there?” “What do you mean, ‘let her die’?” I stirred my tea, my voice lazy. “Be specific.” “The house, the savings,” my aunt interjected. “You have to give her half of what your parents left!” I let out a short, sharp laugh and slapped the notarized document I’d brought with me onto the table. “Legally, she gets nothing.” The air in the room went still. “You—” my uncle’s hand was shaking with rage. “She’s your sister! If your parents knew you were doing this, they’d be turning in their graves!” “Don’t use the dead to guilt me,” I said, my voice calm. “My parents are ashes. They can’t control me anymore.” No one spoke. I looked around at them. “I’m her sister. I can do whatever I want with her. What business is it of yours?” The cafe was so quiet you could hear the tea bubbling in the pot. The relatives looked sick, but before any of them could speak, I cut them off. “So,” I said, holding my hands out. “You all feel so sorry for her, right? Who’s taking her home?” No one answered. “What’s the matter? All talk and no action, as usual?” I laughed mockingly. “You’re not willing to take care of her yourselves, so you try to force me to? How noble.” Silence. Anger. Finally, my aunt slammed her teacup on the table, splashing hot tea everywhere. “Ava, you will get what’s coming to you!” I clapped softly. “I’ll be waiting.” The family meeting ended as expected. Not a single one of them was willing to actually help Ruby. But the wave of online sympathy was turning into a tsunami. The next day, the story was trending again. This time, it was a live, exclusive interview with my sister. In the video, Ruby was sitting on a park bench, pale and shivering in thin clothes. She kept her head down, her eyes red, her fingers twisted together in her lap. The reporter’s voice was gentle. “Your sister claims you’re only after the inheritance.” Ruby shook her head frantically, tears rolling down her cheeks. “No, that’s not true! I never wanted to take anything from my sister…” She looked up, her voice trembling. “I just… I just want a home…” The live chat exploded with fury. “Her sister is a monster! She doesn’t even want the money!” “This poor girl is so broken. Does Ava have a heart at all?” “AVA, GET ON HERE AND APOLOGIZE TO YOUR SISTER!!” My phone was buzzing nonstop. I opened the live stream and posted a comment under the interview. If you can’t handle living, then just die. You’ll be doing everyone a favor. The internet saw my comment. There was a moment of stunned silence. And then, a deluge of curses. But a second later, their rage was cut short.
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