1 It was the fifth year since I’d cut all ties with my family. I saw them again at the prison gates. They were there for my sister’s first day of work as a corrections officer. I was there because I was an inmate being released. When they saw me, my parents froze, a wave of awkwardness washing over them. After a tense silence, my mother spoke first. “Luna… when we asked you to take the fall for your sister, we truly had no other choice.” “We never thought you’d actually cut us off, that you wouldn’t even call us once from inside…” I sidestepped her outstretched hand, grabbed the last of my things, and turned to leave. As I passed, my father grabbed my sleeve, his eyes red. “Luna! It’s been five years! Are you going to hold onto this forever? Is this how you treat your parents and your sister?” “Whatever you have to say, you can say it at home. It’s not like you have anywhere else to go…” What was there to say? I was no longer that desperate little girl, starved for her parents’ affection. Besides… My gaze shifted to a car parked a short distance away. I pulled my arm free. “I have somewhere to go. My family is waiting for me.” … When I pulled away, my father’s temper flared. “Luna Reed! Did five years in prison rot your brain? You won’t even acknowledge your own mother and father?!” “Still as stubborn as ever! You’re not half as likable as Stella!” His voice was so loud that a few of the officers glanced our way, the atmosphere turning thick with embarrassment. My mother quickly patted his arm, urging him to calm down. “Quiet down. You’ll make a bad impression on Stella’s colleagues.” She turned back to me, forcing a smile, her voice laced with a careful, placating tone. “Luna, you know your father’s temper. Don’t take it to heart.” “You haven’t contacted us all these years… did you really think we were going to let you go to prison?” “You’re our daughter too, silly girl. If you had just answered our calls instead of choosing prison, we would have hired the best lawyers to get you out of it.” Her eyes welled up, and she looked like a heartbroken, helpless mother. She seemed to have forgotten that I hadn't done anything wrong in the first place. The crime was a lie they had fabricated to protect my sister, Stella. I took a step back, my voice calm and even. “Don’t trouble yourselves. The day you asked me to take the blame for Stella, we stopped being a family.” My words made my father’s face darken. “Look at her! Just look at that miserable face! How did we raise such an ungrateful child?!” He raised his hand to strike me, but the ringing of his phone cut him off. He answered it immediately. Stella’s lazy voice drifted from the speaker. “Dad, I’m done with my paperwork. Bring the car around to the West Gate. The main entrance is too far, I can’t be bothered to walk.” “Okay, okay, we’re on our way.” My mother tried to smooth things over. “You see, Luna? Stella is still so lazy…” “Come with us to pick up your sister. It’s her first day, she’s so excited.” “We’re family, there’s no grudge we can’t get over, right? Come on, come home with us…” “Enough!” I couldn’t stand another second of their family drama. I turned to leave. But she grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. I was only ninety pounds now, and the force of her pull sent me stumbling to the ground. My mother stared down at me, her lips parting as if to say something, but no words came out. Even my father was stunned by my gaunt appearance. “Were you a picky eater in there? How did you get so thin…?” A picky eater? What a joke. In their eyes, Stella, with her bipolar disorder, was a fragile porcelain doll. I, the healthy daughter, was supposed to be tough as nails. So every time Stella made a mistake, I was the one who took the punishment. Stella put a bug in the principal’s water bottle. They were afraid the punishment would trigger an episode, so I was the one publicly reprimanded in front of the whole school. Stella’s bullying almost got another student killed. I took the fall, became the ringleader, and lost every friend I had. Until the last time, when Stella committed the ultimate crime… That was the first time I refused to take the blame for her. My reward was a sharp slap from my father. The blow ruptured my eardrum. To this day, I can’t hear a thing out of that ear. Five years had passed. Stella had graduated from the police academy with flying colors. A bright future ahead of her. How nice. I looked at them coldly. “Go back with you? And then what? You really want me back as your daughter?” “If people find out Stella has a convicted felon for a sister, your precious daughter’s career might be over before it even begins.” Their faces went pale. Stella called again, her voice growing more impatient. They looked torn, but in the end, they got in the car and left. After picking her up, their familiar black sedan drove past the main gate again. As they passed, I could hear their cheerful laughter drifting out of the window. A friendly officer I knew walked over. “Our new colleague’s family seems so close,” he said. “Last time her parents were here, they treated us all to dinner and bought her new clothes, just to make sure we’d look out for her.” “By the way,” he added, “I saw you talking to them for a while. Do you know them?” I couldn’t help but smile a little. “I do.” “Once upon a time, I was their child, too.” The officer’s eyes widened. He probably couldn’t comprehend how two children from the same family could end up on opposite sides of the law—one a criminal, the other an officer. A long, long time ago, I was also cherished by that man and woman. Every day after work, my father would go out of his way to wait in line at a bakery on the other side of town. He would carefully tuck the still-warm cake inside his coat, afraid it would get cold on the way home. Every night, my mother would sit by my bed and whisper stories until I fell asleep. Her phone’s photo album was filled with pictures of me—every smile, every tear. In every photo, the three of us were huddled together, with me safely in the middle, as they told me over and over again: “Luna will always be Mommy and Daddy’s most precious baby!” Even after my sister was born, their love for me never wavered. But Stella was a handful from the start. One day she’d be hitting other kids, the next she’d be getting hit herself. My parents were constantly cleaning up her messes, but they were also worried I would feel neglected. To keep things “fair,” every time they had to focus on Stella, they would buy me a gift. Then, when Stella was seven, she jumped from a second-story window at her school without any warning. It happened on the day my parents missed picking her up because they had come to my parent-teacher conference instead. My mother, her eyes red from crying, told me, “Your sister is sick. From now on, we have to spend more time watching her. Otherwise, something terrible will happen. Luna, you’re the older sister. Can you understand?” My father’s voice was hoarse. “Luna, you’re her big sister. You need to help us take care of her.” I wanted to help them, to ease their burden. I nodded without hesitation. “I’ll take good care of my sister!” I was too young then. I didn’t know what bipolar disorder was, and I didn’t understand the weight of the words “take care of your sister.” I never imagined that those few simple words would completely shatter my life. At first, “taking care of her” just meant giving up my own toys when Stella started hitting other kids to get what she wanted, and then apologizing on her behalf. But soon, she learned to use her illness as a weapon. Whenever she wanted something, she would throw things, hit people, or, in more extreme cases, threaten to hurt herself or jump off buildings. My role shifted from apologizing for her to taking the blame for her, to taking the fall for her crimes. My life became expendable in the face of hers. My parents’ attention shifted almost entirely to Stella. Then came my birthday. I used the first paycheck from my part-time college job to buy a cake and had carefully chosen gifts for them. I lit the candles and waited. The candles burned down. Midnight came and went. My phone remained silent. I drifted off to sleep on the sofa. The sound of the door opening woke me. I forced a smile, ready to give them their gifts. But before I could speak, my father, his face etched with frustration, cut me off. “What time is it?! Your sister is in serious trouble, and you’re at home eating cake?!” He swiped his arm across the table, sending the cake crashing to the floor. Seeing the ruined cake, my mother broke down, sobbing. “What are we going to do? Stella has bipolar disorder! She’ll kill herself if she’s away from us! She’s still so young…” Suddenly, her eyes landed on me. “Luna, Mom is begging you. Please, help your sister one last time.” “What is it?” A sense of dread washed over me, my voice trembling. “Take the blame for your sister…” My mother glanced at my father. Stella peeked out from behind him, crying harder than I had ever seen her, her body shaking uncontrollably. My mind went blank. “What… what did she do?” “Stella… her homeroom teacher said a few words to her, and she… she pushed the teacher down,” my mother stammered. “And then what?” My father closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “The teacher was eight months pregnant… She and the baby… they both died.” A roar filled my ears. I swayed on my feet, struggling to find my voice. “So… what do you want me to do?” My mother gripped my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “Luna, will you take the blame for her? Please?” “We’ve already looked into it. The lightest sentence for something like this is juvenile detention. Stella’s condition is severe. She’ll die in a place like that! Her life is just beginning!” “As for college, we’ll help you file for withdrawal later. And don’t worry, we’ll spend every last penny to get you the best lawyer. We’ll get you out.” I stared at her in disbelief, my legs weak. “And what about me? I worked so hard to get into my dream university! Is my life just disposable?!” “How could you think that?” My mother looked wounded. “Your sister is sick! You’re her older sister, isn’t it your duty to take care of her? You can forget about college. We’ll support you for the rest of your life! Once this is over, it won’t affect your life at all!” I stared at her, my eyes burning, and screamed, “This is one thing I can’t help you with!” Stella burst into tears. My father rushed forward and slapped me across the face. The force of the blow knocked me to the ground. A warm, wet sensation filled my ear. I touched it. My hand came away covered in blood. Seeing my defiance, Stella’s eyes darted around, and she ran for the balcony, wailing. “My sister won’t even help me! I don’t want to live anymore! My life is over anyway!” My parents, thinking she was having an episode, panicked and rushed to grab her, swearing they would fix everything. “Stella, don’t be scared! Mommy and Daddy will take care of it! We’ll solve this!” I watched them frantically console her, and I mumbled, “So in this family, all you have to do is threaten suicide to get what you want? What if I kill myself? What would you do then?” The answer came in the form of a water glass flying at my head and my father’s impatient roar. “Your sister is sick! What are you comparing yourself to her for?! The only reason she got this illness is because we spent all our time focusing on you and neglected her!” The glass shattered against my head. Liquid and blood streamed down my face. And with that, the last shred of hope I had for them died. They locked me in my room and took my phone. Through the door, I could hear them cooing over Stella. My head was splitting open. Everything I touched was slick with blood. The blood from my head, from my ear, smeared all over my face. I pounded on the door, crying for help, but my pleas were drowned out by Stella’s hysterics. I could only watch as the light under the door went out, as silence fell, as my consciousness faded into darkness. When I woke up again, the media had already branded me a killer. The university had sent my official notice of expulsion. The day I was expelled was also Stella’s birthday. My parents said that Stella’s birthday only comes once a year and couldn’t be missed. Meanwhile, I was curled up in my room, clutching my deafened ear, as I read the news of my conviction and expulsion. I tried to defend myself. But the online comments crushed any hope I had. “She pushed a pregnant teacher and now she’s trying to frame her own sister to get out of it?” “A murderer is a murderer.” They had even paid off the victim’s family and the witnesses. Everyone told the same story, all pointing their fingers at me. In my darkest moment, I saw their post on social media, celebrating Stella’s birthday. In the photo, my father was peeling shrimp for her. Everyone was smiling. Like a ghost, I liked the post. My phone rang instantly. It was my father, shouting. “It’s Stella’s birthday! Did you have to ruin it?!” Years of pent-up grief and anger exploded. “What did I ever do wrong?” I sobbed. “Why are you doing this to me?!” The only answer I got was the sound of Stella in the background, demanding her presents as they cut the cake. “Stella’s been in a bad mood lately. It’s her birthday, so you better get her a gift, and fast. Otherwise, she won’t forgive you.” That was all they said before hanging up. A moment later, my phone was flooded with calls from unknown numbers. “Go die, you bitch!” “An animal like you deserves to pay with your life!” The news online kept updating. “Even after all this, her parents are still trying to protect her. They’ve hired multiple lawyers to try and reduce her sentence.” “That ungrateful monster doesn’t deserve such a good family.” As I finished my story, the air in the prison yard grew still. The officer’s face was a mask of disbelief. “Are there really parents like that in the world? That’s not something a family does!” I nodded, my voice devoid of emotion. “That’s why I cut ties with them. I’ve already gathered all the evidence to overturn my case. Once my name is cleared, I can go back to college and…” Splat. A piece of cake flew through the air and hit me square in the face. I wiped the cream from my eyes, my hand now sticky and messy, just like my life. My father, his eyes blazing red, rushed toward me and slapped me again, his voice a furious roar. “And here I was, feeling guilty about your birthday, thinking I’d make it up to you with a cake.” “Luna Reed! How did we raise such a monster?! Are you determined to drive your sister to her death?!”
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