My dad always liked my sister better. I was the one who didn’t belong. So I married a man who lived a thousand miles away, and I never looked back. Yesterday, I got the call. He was dead. While cleaning out his belongings, I found his old phone. It only had one app on it: Maps. Not even a single social media icon. My sister walked in, snatched the phone from my hand, her eyes red-rimmed. “Candice, don’t. Just don’t look.” 1. At the funeral, I didn’t shed a single tear. My relatives stood around me, their shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. I just stood there, a complete outsider. My sister, Luna, came over, her eyes swollen and puffy from crying. She reached for my hand, but I pulled away. “Candice, please don’t be like this.” I stared at the black-and-white photo in the center of the hall. The man in the picture was smiling, but I could barely remember his face. “Be like what?” My voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the quiet weeping, silencing the room. A few of my aunts exchanged glances, making tutting sounds. “Some people are just ungrateful.” “Her own father dies and she doesn’t even cry. Her heart must be made of stone.” “I know, right? She was always stubborn, not half as sweet as Luna.” I’d been hearing variations of those lines for over twenty years. I was used to it. My dad’s preference for Luna wasn’t a secret. It was a blatant, unapologetic favoritism. For my tenth birthday, I had my heart set on the most popular doll of the year. Instead, my dad came home with a giant Transformer. It was what Luna had been begging for. He pushed the giant toy into Luna’s arms, ruffling her hair. “Our little Luna is the best girl.” Then, he pulled a crumpled notebook from his pocket and tossed it to me. “You’re a girl. Stop thinking about useless toys and focus on your studies.” The cover of the notebook had a cheesy slogan printed on it: Study Hard and Get Ahead. That night, I tore the notebook to shreds and flushed the pieces down the toilet, one by one. I didn’t cry. I just knew, in that moment, that there was no room for me in this house. 2. After the funeral, it was time to sort through his things. My dad didn’t own much. His room contained a single, beat-up wardrobe. I folded his clothes, one by one, and packed them into cardboard boxes. Luna knelt beside me, silently polishing a picture frame. It was a photo of her and our dad at an amusement park. She was perched on his shoulders, smiling like a sunflower. I searched the entire house. There wasn’t a single photo of just him and me. In the one family portrait we owned, I was standing in the far corner, my expression stiff, looking like I’d been awkwardly photoshopped in. Luna looked up, her voice hoarse. “Candice… Dad left something for you. It’s in his desk.” I pulled open the bottom drawer. Inside was a small metal box, covered in a thin layer of dust. I opened it. It wasn’t filled with anything valuable. It was a stack of certificates. “Student of the Year, Luna.” “First Place, Art Competition, Luna.” “Star Dancer, Luna.” The box was overflowing with proof of my sister’s achievements. At the very bottom, my fingers brushed against a few loose papers. They were mine. My university acceptance letter and a couple of certificates for academic excellence. They were just shoved at the bottom, not even in a plastic sleeve. The corners were frayed. A bitter smile touched my lips. My heart felt like a block of ice. See? Even in his memories, Luna’s accomplishments were more important than mine. Seeing my expression, Luna quickly tried to explain. “No, Candice, that’s not it! Dad… he showed your acceptance letter to all our relatives. He was so, so proud.” “Was he?” I held the letter up to the light. “So proud that he buried it at the bottom of a box, without even bothering to frame it?” 3. Most of the relatives were still lingering. My aunt took Luna’s hand, sighing dramatically. “Oh, Luna, this family will depend on you now. You can’t count on your sister for anything.” “Your father was sick for years, and you were the one here, taking care of him. He didn’t waste his love on you.” My uncle chimed in. “Exactly. Her sister moves across the country, doesn’t visit for years at a time. So cold-hearted.” “The house, the savings… it should all go to you, by right.” They said all of this openly, right in front of me as I stood in the doorway. My father… was sick? I didn’t know. No one had told me. After I moved away, he never once called me. Whenever I called home, my mom would answer, rush through a few pleasantries, and then hang up, saying Dad was busy or had stepped out. So he was sick. They’d hidden it so well. Were they trying to protect me from worrying, or did they just decide the daughter who didn’t matter didn’t need to know? I guessed it was the latter. I let out a cold laugh and walked into the living room. “Are you all done?” The room fell silent. All eyes were on me. I looked at my uncle. “You don’t need to worry about my father’s affairs. And what he did or didn’t leave for me is none of your business.” My uncle’s face turned beet red. “What kind of attitude is that? We’re your elders!” “And being an elder gives you the right to gossip about other people’s private lives?” I stood my ground. “You… you ungrateful child! Your father’s body is barely cold, and you’re already trying to tear this family apart!” Luna rushed over and stood between me and our relatives. “Uncle, Auntie, please stop. My sister… she’s hurting, too.” Her defense felt more like a performance. A way of showing everyone that she was the true master of this house. I pushed her aside. “Whether I’m hurting or not is my business,” I said, my voice sharp and clear. “But you were right about one thing. He loved Luna the most. You certainly can’t count on me.” With that, I turned, walked back to my room, and locked the door. Outside, the relatives’ whispers grew louder, more brazen. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. That man spent his entire life showing me I wasn't as good as Luna. And even in death, he was still using others to remind me of it. 4. I stayed in the old house to handle the arrangements. Luna tiptoed around me every day, wanting to talk but too afraid to start. She’d bring me food, and I’d eat it in silence. She’d pour me hot water, and I’d take it without a word. We were like two strangers living under the same roof, connected only by the man who was gone. One night, I couldn’t sleep. I walked out of my room and saw Luna sitting on the sofa in the dark living room. The only light was the glow from her phone, illuminating half of her face. She was crying. Silently. I stood there for a moment, about to retreat, when she saw me. “Candice.” She hastily wiped her tears and stood up. “Can’t sleep?” I asked, my tone flat. “No.” She looked down. “Candice, Dad… he really missed you.” That again. I was so tired of hearing it. “Did he? I never got that impression,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Luna flinched. She walked over slowly and held out her phone. “Look at this.” It was a video. The background was familiar—the riverfront park in the city where I lived. The camera was shaky, focused on the back of a young woman flying a kite. Her laughter, bright and clear, carried on the breeze. “What is this?” I asked, confused. “It’s a video one of your old college friends posted. She said she ran into you,” Luna said softly. “I forwarded it to Dad.” Then I heard his voice from the phone’s speaker, heavy with wheezing and a cough he couldn’t suppress. “Cough, cough… My girl… my Candice… she has such a beautiful laugh…” “Just like her mother…” My heart seized in my chest. The video was only fifteen seconds long. But he spoke as if he’d been watching it for a lifetime. “Dad’s phone had almost no memory,” Luna said. “He couldn’t save much, but he saved this one video. He watched it several times a day.” “He said that hearing your laugh made the pain in his body a little easier to bear.” 5. I snatched the phone from her, playing the video over and over. The man’s voice in the video was weak, frail. It was a world away from the booming, powerful voice I remembered—the voice of a man who could yell at me for half an hour without taking a breath. My hands started to shake. “When did he get sick?” “Three years ago. A heart condition. The doctor said it was an old problem, from overworking himself when he was young.” Three years ago. The year I got married. He didn’t come to my wedding. He just had someone deliver a card with a hundred-dollar bill inside. At the time, my husband’s family had mocked me, whispering about how my own father wouldn’t even show up for his daughter’s wedding. I was so angry I threw the money away and swore I would never have anything to do with him again. “Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice was trembling. “Dad wouldn’t let me.” Luna’s tears started falling again. “He said you lived so far away, you had your own life, and he didn’t want to be a burden.” “He said… he said the person he failed most in his life was you. He was too ashamed to face you, let alone ask you to come back and take care of him.” A burden? Ashamed? The words were so absurd I wanted to laugh. When had he ever felt sorry for me? Was it when he turned my bedroom into Luna’s piano room? Or was it when he gave the only spot at the good high school to Luna and told me I should go to a trade school instead? I stared at her, my eyes burning. “Do you really think saying all this now will make me forgive him? Don’t be so naive, Luna.” “You enjoyed his favoritism for twenty years. Now that he’s dead, you want me to remember his ‘good side’ so you can inherit everything with a clear conscience?” “No! That’s not it, Candice! I didn’t!” Luna was stung by my words, grabbing my arm frantically. “Then tell me why!” I shook her hand off. “Why did he do all of it?” Luna’s lips trembled, but no words came out. She just shook her head, tears streaming down her face. Seeing her like that only made me angrier. It was always like this. Whenever we argued, she used her tears as a weapon, making it seem like she was the one who was deeply wronged. 6. The next day, the lawyer arrived. He was an old friend of my dad’s, a man named Mr. Harris. He saw me and sighed. “Candice. You’re finally back.” I said nothing. My aunt and uncle, having heard the news, had also shown up. They sat on the sofa, looking smug and expectant. Mr. Harris pulled a document from his briefcase. “This is your father’s last will and testament.” Everyone in the room held their breath. My uncle cleared his throat, putting on a show of magnanimity. “My brother had a hard life. Whatever he decided, we’ll respect it. But Luna was always the most devoted daughter. It’s only right that he left a little more for her.” My aunt nodded eagerly. “Exactly. Candice was never around. She didn’t contribute anything.” I watched their performance with cold eyes. Luna sat next to me, wringing her hands, her palms sweating with nerves. Mr. Harris adjusted his glasses and began to read. “The contents of the will are quite straightforward.” “The house under Mr. Davis’s name, as well as all savings in his accounts, are to be left to…”
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