Chapter 4

Since I was dead, that was fine.

At least I wouldn't be packed up and sent away like garbage.

I wouldn't be tied up and stuffed into a psychiatric hospital van.

I floated above the living room like a ghost, watching these two people I once loved most.

That actress Yasmin might have left, but her influence remained.

My brother picked up his phone, probably texting her.

"Baby, don't be mad. I've already decided to send that mons... to send my sister away."

A voice message quickly came back.

"Lucas, that thing in the attic is really your sister? She looks so scary, like a ghost from a horror movie. I had nightmares about it last night."

My brother laughed awkwardly and said into the phone, "Don't bring her up. It kills the mood."

Don't bring her up.

Kills the mood.

When I pushed you out of that inferno, you didn't think it killed the mood.

When you climbed to the top using my shoulders as a ladder, you didn't think it killed the mood.

Now you think I'm ugly?

I crouched by the coffee table, looking at those hands that once peeled shrimp for me and played guitar for me, now degrading his own sister to please another woman.

Mom was busy in the kitchen.

The aroma drifted out.

Medium-rare steak.

That was my brother's favorite.

It was also a taste I hadn't experienced in seven years.

For these seven years, I ate their leftovers.

Sometimes cold pasta, sometimes a dried-out piece of bread.

Mom said, "You don't even exercise, just lie around all day. What's the point of eating well? It's a waste."

But now, she carried out a full plate of steak with a loving smile on her face.

"Lucas, come try this. Mom made it especially for you."

My brother forked a piece, took a bite, and praised it endlessly. "Mom, your cooking keeps getting better."

Mom watched him eat with a smile, then suddenly sighed.

"If Aria hadn't been disfigured, she'd be in college now, wouldn't she? She used to love my steak."

I floated over, getting close to Mom's face.

I wanted to hug her.

I wanted to tell her, Mom, I'm beautiful now. I'm not ugly anymore. I can go to college now.

I want steak.

I want to hear you call me baby.

But my hand passed through her shoulder.

Nothing but emptiness.

My brother snorted coldly and spat out a piece of bone.

"Mom, don't talk about hypotheticals. Reality is she's a burden now, a waste of food."

"And she's become so psychologically twisted. Yesterday she deliberately came out to scare Yasmin. I think she's just jealous."

Jealous?

I was just thirsty.

My throat was parched. I just wanted to go downstairs for some water.

I watched my brother take out his phone and open a TikTok live stream preview.

The title read: [Tomorrow morning live stream waking up family, showing the most authentic warm daily life]

Mom frowned. "Don't film the attic. What if..."

My brother smiled confidently, cutting Mom off.

"Don't worry, Mom."

"Recently people online have been saying I'm a diva with no compassion. This is the perfect opportunity."

"I'll have her covered with a blanket, just show her back or maybe a hand."

"I'll say my sister is sick and I'm taking care of her without abandoning her."

"Sell the 'devoted brother caring for his sick sister' persona. Those idiot fans eat that up. It'll definitely attract and retain followers."

So even in death.

My only value was as a faceless prop.

To perfect his devoted brother image.

Not only did they drain my blood and flesh while I lived.

Even my corpse after death—he wasn't planning to let it go.

Lucas.

You're something else.

I floated in the air, looking at that impeccably handsome face, and suddenly felt disgusted.