Three years after I was released from prison, I ran into my adoptive brother, Danny, at the hospital. I was there for my psychiatry appointment. He was carrying a bag from the high-end cosmetic clinic, filled with the signature facial masks his new sister, Isabelle, loved. When he caught sight of me, thin and worn, a frown creased his brow. “Why didn’t you say anything about being released early?” My expression was neutral. “You changed your number. I couldn’t reach you.” He cleared his throat, a flicker of embarrassment in his eyes. “Well, since you’re out, you should come home.” I took a step back. “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Shock flashed in his eyes. “Carol, are you still angry with me?” I just shook my head, saying nothing. I had found my real brother. You can’t love or hate someone who has become irrelevant. … I bent down to pick up the medical file he’d knocked from my hand, but he was faster. The words “Autism Spectrum Disorder” printed neatly on the cover seemed to sting him. His brow furrowed. “Carol, it’s been years. Isabelle has forgiven you. So have I.” “You shouldn’t let these negative emotions consume you.” I offered a faint smile. “I won’t.” After a polite and distant goodbye, I started to walk away, my gait uneven. Behind me, Danny’s eyes turned red. “Carol, your leg… is it injured?” His voice was strained. “How can you dance like that?” I paused for a second, my gaze dropping to the prosthetic beneath my slacks. I managed a small smile. It had been a long time since its existence had caused me any pain. Danny rushed forward, grabbing my wrist. His voice was a low, urgent whisper. “You have a prison record, a bad leg… how are you supposed to survive on your own?” “Come home with me. I’m your brother, and Isabelle’s. Even if you made mistakes, I’ll still take care of you both, just the same.” Before I could refuse, Isabelle stepped out of the clinic, a radiant smile on her face. The smile froze when she saw me, but it returned a second later, brighter than before. “Sister! You’re out of prison?” Her voice was deliberately loud, drawing the eyes of everyone in the hallway. Danny’s frown deepened. “Isabelle, keep your voice down. Carol is still my—” He trailed off as Isabelle’s expression crumpled into her usual look of wounded innocence. I cut him off. “It’s fine.” “No need to hide it. She’s telling the truth.” Isabelle reached for my hand, but I shifted away. Her smile never faltered. “It’s my birthday today. My brother brought me for a six-figure rejuvenation treatment. So expensive, isn’t it?” “He also baked me a cake himself, and since he knows I love a celebration, he ordered fireworks for the whole city.” She paused, then covered her mouth, her brow furrowed in mock concern. “Oh, sister, I’m so sorry.” “What I mean is, I wanted to invite you to my birthday party. It’s just one more plate at the table. My brother and I wouldn’t mind.” Danny shot her a warning glance before turning to me, his tone placating. “Carol, I’ll do all of this for your birthday, too. Just… come tonight, say hello to everyone.” I looked at them both, my face a placid mask. “No, thank you. I have plans. I wouldn’t want to intrude.” The silence stretched for a moment. Danny’s voice was laced with bitterness. “All your old friends cut ties with you after what happened. Who could you possibly have plans with?” “Carol, I know you blame me, but no matter what, we are the closest people to each other in this world.” I gave a noncommittal smile. Once, that was true. I was born with a severe form of autism. Everyone called me a monster. My mother, unable to bear the whispers and stares, took my older brother and ran. When my father was at work, he left me with the old woman downstairs. The neighborhood kids would throw rocks at me, trying to see if they could make the silent monster speak. Danny was always the one who chased them away, pressing a lollipop into my hand afterward. Then he saw his mother having an affair with his uncle. At an age where secrets are impossible to keep, he told his father. That night, his father murdered them both before leaping from the roof of their apartment building. The day social services came for him, I clung to his hand and refused to let go. So he stayed. That day, my father gained a new son, and I gained a new brother. To escape the whispers that Danny had caused his parents’ deaths, my father moved us to a small coastal town. During a typhoon, my father was swept out to sea while saving Danny from the churning waves. That night, Danny held me as I huddled in a corner and swore an oath. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll make up for all the love you’ve lost.” He delivered milk at dawn, hauled bricks on construction sites during the day, and delivered takeout at night, all to pay for my expensive therapy. Seeing his bruised shoulders and cracked hands, I began to understand. I found something I loved: dance. The doctors said it would help me open up, so Danny worked himself to the bone to send me to the best dance academy. One afternoon, the studio caught fire. By the time Danny arrived, the flames were painting the sky red. Someone shouted that the quiet, non-verbal girl was still inside. He didn’t hesitate, charging toward the inferno. “I have to save my sister!” The fire singed his hair, but he kept pushing forward. I saw him through the crowd, choking on the thick black smoke, and for the first time in my life, I spoke. “Brother, I’m okay.” In that moment, Danny, who never cried, held me and wept with joy. “Carol, you spoke! You finally spoke!” After that, everything changed. I went to school, I danced, and Danny, free from worry, built an empire. In just a few years, he became one of the city’s most successful entrepreneurs. Everyone knew he had a sister he treasured more than life itself. Cocooned in his absolute devotion, my autism receded. I became a happy, thriving dancer. I thought we would live like that forever. Then he brought Isabelle home. She was a dance student from a prestigious university, working as a summer intern at his company. She’d been disowned by her mother for exposing an affair between her mother and a senior partner. Her father blamed her for driving his wife away and left her to fend for herself. Danny said her lonely, desperate state reminded him of himself as a boy, so he decided to take her in. I knew how much his parents’ death still haunted him, so I agreed. One day, Isabelle looked at the locket I always wore. “Your locket is so beautiful, sister.” Before I could respond, Danny unclasped it from my neck and handed it to her. “Think of it as a welcome gift.” I snatched it back instinctively. Danny’s face fell with disappointment as he met Isabelle’s tear-filled eyes. “I’ve bought you so much jewelry, Carol. It’s just a locket. Is this who I’ve spoiled you into becoming?” Tears of betrayal streamed down my face. “I have a lot of jewelry, but this… this is the only thing my father ever gave me.” I ran out of the house in a rage, forgetting my phone. I sat on a bench outside, just as I had countless times before, and began counting down from twenty, waiting for him to come and apologize. I counted through the entire night, but he never came. When I finally returned home, he was feeding Isabelle breakfast. At that moment, something inside me began to harden. That evening, Danny apologized, promising he would never favor Isabelle again. I let it go and threw myself into rehearsals for the dance company’s national tour. A month later, Danny decided to throw a lavish party for Isabelle, to celebrate her “new life.” He insisted that as her older sister, I had to be there. Not wanting to ruin the mood, I took time off from rehearsals and bought Isabelle a pink diamond as a gift. But at the party, she fell to her knees before me. “Sister, I don’t want the diamond. My lifelong dream has been to be a principal dancer. Please, just give me your role in this tour. Please?” It was a role I had worked over a decade for. I refused without a second thought. The party ended on a sour note. On the first day of the tour, someone hid nails in my dance shoes. My feet were shredded. I fell from a ten-foot platform. While I was in the emergency room, Isabelle took my place as the principal dancer, dazzling the audience. Danny was there, recording her entire performance. The hard shell around my heart grew thicker, heavier. I couldn’t breathe. I trashed my entire hospital room, demanding that Danny send Isabelle away. His expression was cold. “You were careless. It has nothing to do with Isabelle.” “She coveted the role!” I screamed, hysterical. “She put the nails in my shoes!” He looked at me with the same expression I had seen so many times in my childhood, when others called me a monster. “Do you have to be this way?” “Have you forgotten? It was this monstrous side of you that drove your mother away.” His words were more devastating than a thousand stones. The shell around my heart tightened, suffocating me. After I was discharged, I frantically searched for proof, obsessed with making him see that he was wrong, that Isabelle had hurt me. But all the security footage had been tampered with. I offered a huge reward for information. Finally, another dancer came forward with a video on her phone, showing Isabelle planting the nails. I put the video online. It was my last stand, my final attempt to make him see the truth. But Isabelle was more ruthless. She slit her wrists, waiting until the floor was slick with blood before allowing Danny to “discover” her. Outside the operating room, for the first time in his life, Danny hit me. “Isabelle is just insecure! She never meant to hurt you,” he seethed. “Because of you, she has nightmares. She spends every day praying for forgiveness. Isn’t that enough?” His words cut through my shock. “So you knew? You knew she put the nails in my shoes? The security footage… you had it erased?” His eyes flickered. He didn’t speak, but I had my answer. “She didn’t mean for it to be serious,” he said softly, trying to placate me. “Otherwise, your legs would have been permanently damaged.” “It’s just a principal role. If you post a clarification for Isabelle right now, I’ll buy you your own dance company. You can be the principal every day.” I slapped him, my hand stinging. “So that’s it, Danny? You’re trying to insult me with your money?” His face was a blank mask. “What else is there?” I laughed, a sharp, broken sound. “If you think I will let you destroy Isabelle,” he continued, his voice cold, “you are mistaken.” He picked up one of the nails from the evidence bag and drove it into his own foot. “I’m paying for your pain with my own. Is that enough for you?” Drops of crimson splattered on the white floor. Isabelle ran out, crying, pressing her hands to his wound. “Brother, I’m sorry. I was just jealous of her,” she sobbed. “Jealous of your love, of her career. I couldn’t control myself.” He comforted her gently. “It’s okay. I know you’re a good, kind girl at heart. I’ve shed her blood for her. She has no right to blame you anymore.” I lost control. “Danny! This isn’t over between us!” He looked at me with disgust. “Carol, if Dad could see how vicious you’ve become…” “You have no right to talk about my father!” I shrieked. “You’re the one who’s blind! I will prove it to you!” I hired a private investigator. It didn’t take long to discover that Isabelle was no innocent flower. I bought a compromising video of her and her boyfriend. In it, she was tied up, crying for help as he had his way with her—a scene that looked exactly like an assault. But her boyfriend explained it was just a game they played, a BDSM-style roleplay that she loved. I threw the USB drive at Danny. “Isabelle is not who you think she is! She’s been making videos like this since she was eighteen! She doesn’t deserve to be part of our family!” At the same time, the clip of Isabelle “being assaulted” was leaked online. She collapsed into Danny’s arms, weeping. “Sister hates me so much… she’s exposed my most painful trauma to the world. I can’t live with this shame. The life I owe you, brother… I’ll repay it in the next one.” She raised a dagger to her heart. Danny caught the blade with his bare hand, blood dripping from his palm. His gaze pierced through me, his voice like ice. “Can’t you see she was forced? Do you have any idea how important a girl’s reputation is?” “The video online… it wasn’t me who—” I tried to explain. He cut me off as if he hadn’t heard. “It seems you don’t. Perhaps it’s time you learned firsthand.” He hired the best lawyers in the country. The trial was broadcast live. He had me convicted for slander and invasion of privacy and sent to prison. I became a pariah. When I tried to appeal, he crushed my hope. “You look down on my money? I want you to understand that everything you have, I gave to you. As long as I’m here, you won’t find a single lawyer in this city to help you.” “I hope five years in prison will teach you respect, compassion, and weakness.” The shell around my heart sealed shut, trapping me in an endless darkness. My last memory was of him walking away with Isabelle, never once looking back. The man before me blurred, merging with the face from my memories. I felt no pain, no resentment. Nothing at all. My psychiatrist was right. I had truly moved on. I smiled calmly. “The closest person in your life can be your sister, Mr. Crawford, or your future wife. But it will never be me.” The bitterness in Danny’s voice deepened. “Carol, do you have to speak like this? I know my punishment was harsh, but I just didn’t want you to become spoiled and arrogant.” “Listen to me. Come home. I’ll take care of you. The world is a dangerous place. You’ve been sheltered your whole life. Only at home can I give you the best protection, the best medical care, the best of everything…” “Carol!” A voice from down the hall cut him off. I turned and saw my brother, Adrian, jogging toward me, a mask covering his face.
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