Chapter 1

A fire left my sister's mind frozen at seven years old.

The whole family had to play along with her make-believe games.

Mom was the gentle queen. My brother was the dashing knight.

And me? I had to strap on thirty-pound leg weights and play the wicked cripple.

Then I met my boyfriend. He gently unbuckled the weights from my legs, murmuring with ache in his voice.

"Selina, from now on, I'll only be good to you."

But when I brought him home, my sister insisted he play the neighboring prince and marry her.

I told him to bear with it.

He took the toy sword with visible impatience and acted out the scene with her, over and over again.

The night before the wedding, I thought I was finally going to escape this family.

But my sister grabbed my wedding dress and wouldn't let go, crying that she wanted to be the princess.

Father handed me a fake nose. "You've played the witch all these years. What's one more time?"

Mother held out the leg weights.

"There'll be so many guests tomorrow. Do you want your sister to have an episode?"

My brother had his arm around my sister, watching me coldly.

"There can only be one princess in this family—Gianna. Just put up with it."

I looked helplessly at my boyfriend, but he was already dressing me in the witch costume with his own hands, utterly nonchalant.

"Selina, just bear with it a little longer. Otherwise Gianna will be upset."

Looking into my boyfriend's tender eyes, in that moment, my heart turned completely to ash.

I looked at my sister and slipped off my wedding ring. "How can a princess not have a gemstone ring? Here—I'll give you this too, okay?"

Father's expression stiffened. He snapped impatiently, "What are you making a fuss about now?"

Mother sighed. "Grown all these years and still less sensible than our Gianna."

My boyfriend gently stroked my sister's head. "Be good, Gianna. Give me back the ring, okay?"

Gianna shook her head hard.

He smiled indulgently.

He picked up a plastic ring from the dress-up games and slid it onto my finger.

"Selina, just wear this one for now."

"It's only a ceremony anyway. You're the only bride I'll ever have."

Just then, a staff member brought over the menu they'd finalized.

My sister didn't eat spicy food. I couldn't live without it.

Every dish my family chose was bland.

My brother's expression was unruffled. "Skipping spicy food won't kill you. What matters is that Gianna enjoys herself."

I said, "This is my wedding."

Mother pressed down on my arm. "Show some sense. Don't be petty."

The officiant looked at me awkwardly. "So then... which young lady will be walking down the aisle?"

My sister gazed expectantly at my boyfriend.

He immediately let go of my hand. "Be good. Be mature about this. Gianna just wants to experience it."

So I sat in the audience, clutching that ridiculous witch costume in my arms.

Watching my sister in the wedding gown I'd spent six months having custom-made, holding my favorite white iris bouquet.

Leaning blissfully against my boyfriend's arm.

Mother filmed it through tears, posting to social media: "My daughter's all grown up. I'm so proud."

Father took my sister's hand and pressed it firmly into my boyfriend's palm.

"Marco, I'm entrusting her to you."

When the ceremony ended, my sister excitedly kissed my boyfriend on the cheek.

Everyone froze. The staff exchanged knowing glances in my direction.

But my boyfriend didn't move. He just pinched her cheek with a helpless look.

"Little princess, we're rehearsing this part too? Your sister's going to get upset."

The whole family looked at me.

I smiled. "It's fine. I wish them a long and happy life together. Since Marco apparently likes fools, it's none of my business."

Tears instantly spilled down my sister's face.

Father stepped in front of her, livid.

"How could you say that about your sister! Your grandmother spoiled you rotten. The vile things that come out of your mouth."

Mother rubbed my sister's back, soothing her.

The next moment, the bouquet in my sister's hands came flying at me. The corner of my eye bloomed red with blood, and I staggered.

My sister buried her face in my boyfriend's chest, sobbing. "Marco can only marry me!"

Everyone rushed to comfort her.

My boyfriend took one step toward me, but my sister grabbed his sleeve.

The man who once promised I'd never be wronged again—he stopped. And turned to soothe my sister instead.

"Don't be scared, Gianna. I'm here."

In that instant, my heart went completely cold.