Chapter 2

“Oh no. They're starting a new test on the male lead.”

The moment I read that comment my heart skipped hard, and a helpless, panicked feeling spread from my chest out into my arms and legs.

Last time, to see whether I loved my family, my sister had a car accident.

Everyone said it was my fault, that I'd run a red light, that she'd been left paralyzed because she pushed me out of the way.

I explained over and over that someone had shoved me from behind.

But no one believed me. I told my parents.

They only looked at me, disappointed “Your sister just got in a car accident, and all you can do is defend yourself?”

In that moment it was like a bucket of cold water poured over my head, and my hands and feet went bitterly cold.

Two voices kept pulling at me inside.

One said: I only wanted to explain.

The other said: I only thought about explaining and didn't care about my sister. Was I really that selfish?

That guilt reached its peak once I saw that from then on she could only lie in bed.

So I took on everything to do with caring for her, feeding her, giving her water, washing her.

For her medical bills, I went out every day before dawn to collect bottles.

I couldn't bear it if they tested me again.

I ran home as fast as I could, my heart pounding so hard I kept gagging.

And before I even got through the door, a thick smell of blood hit me in the face.

Something dropped in my chest. I fumbled at the lock for a long time before the key finally went in.

The second I pushed the door open, my legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor.

The rabbit I'd spent a whole year raising was gone.

Its head and some fur were still in the cage, and beside it were the greens I'd fed it that very morning before I left.

Greens I'd gone all the way to the farmers' market for, picking the leaves that were still fresh out of the trash bins.

I'd washed them carefully, dried them off again and again, and only then set them down for it to eat.

It had only eaten half of them today. Its teeth marks were still on them.

And from the kitchen came the sound of my parents chopping meat.

“Thud, thud, thud,” one after another, each stroke like it was falling on my heart.

My stomach, my heart, my head, there wasn't a single part of me that didn't hurt.

My mother, blood still bright red on both her hands, smiled at me and said “Benjamin, you're home?”

The comments were all trying to calm me down.

“Don't get angry, don't get angry. They're only testing you.”

My parents pointed at that pot of soup and asked me “The doctor said your sister needs more meat to build her strength. You wouldn't be stingy over one rabbit, would you?”

My eyes went wide. I forgot even to breathe or blink.

Tears rolled down one after another, and seeing me like that, my mother pressed me again for an answer “Say something! Do you mind or not?”

I didn't answer. I went to the kitchen and picked up the cleaver.

Fur and blood were still on it.

I couldn't hold it back anymore and broke into wrenching sobs.

It wasn't just a rabbit. It was the one bit of light in my miserable life.

I would stroke it and pour out everything that troubled me.

But now I'd gotten it killed.

Just because my parents wanted to confirm whether I loved my family more.

Nineteen years of buried hatred and pain surged up in that moment.

I gripped the handle, one thought only in my mind: if there were going to be this many tests, then we could all just die together!

But the instant I thought it, a comment caught my eye.

“The little brother's coming-of-age party is in three days. The male lead has to hold on!”

“Once the little brother is an adult too, the family will stop faking being poor.”

I clenched my fist. Three days from now?

In three days I could verify whether the comments were true or not.

I looked up at my parents. They were watching me, and again they asked “So do you mind or not?”

I forced down the bloody-sweet taste at the back of my throat.

Even with my composure about to shatter, I squeezed out two words “I don't.”

My nails dug into my palm, and only one thought filled me: even if I died, I would die knowing the truth, whether this family was really faking being poor.

They ate that meal very happily.

I only gathered up the little rabbit's remains afterward and buried it in the dirt outside the front door.

Tears dripped down one after another onto the back of my hand, as if to wash the dirt off it.

“The male lead really can endure. Almost there! In three days the parents will stop faking poverty.”

I pulled my feelings back in and walked slowly toward the house.

For the next three days, my family and I got along without incident.

Until the day the comments had named finally came.

“It's finally here. Today is the male lead's little brother's birthday.”