Chapter 1

An avalanche hit the snowy peaks. My foster sister, Clara, had intentionally pushed me, breaking my leg. But my parents abandoned me—shivering with a fever and unable to walk—just to rush Clara to the hospital for a few minor scratches.

Limping and desperate, I begged them to take me with them.

But my mom coldly slapped my hand away.

"Clara is bleeding so much, and you’re still trying to compete with her for attention?" she snapped.

"How did I raise such a wicked daughter? Stay here and think about what you've done!"

They walked away with Clara, never once looking back.

Dragging my broken left leg, I tried my best to crawl after them, only to collapse helplessly onto the freezing snow.

A few days later, when Clara was discharged from the hospital, they finally remembered me, their biological daughter.

Little did they know, I had already been buried deep beneath the avalanche.

I was dead. The mountain had collapsed, and I couldn't escape in time.

But after my death, I found my soul floating right next to my dad.

He was waiting anxiously in the hospital ward, looking at Clara, who was lying in bed. His face was filled with pity.

"Clara, the doctor said it's a good thing we brought you in early. You're going to be fine."

"Just rest now. We'll go home once you're fully recovered."

Then, he looked out the window at the distant, snow-capped mountains. Anger flared in his eyes.

"If it weren't for Chloe insisting on going to that mountain, you wouldn't have been hurt so badly!"

"When she gets back, I'm going to make her get down on her knees and beg for your forgiveness!"

My mom was hovering over Clara, checking the medical monitors every second, terrified that something might go wrong.

Her eyes were red from crying.

"That miserable brat," she cursed. "She knew Clara was fragile, yet she still dragged us to that mountain. I actually thought she was finally starting to care about Clara. It was a setup all along!"

Watching this, my spectral heart shattered into pieces.

Mom, that’s not true. Clara was the one who planned this trip. You both agreed to it!

I had been sickly since I was a kid. I never wanted to climb mountains. But Clara said she wanted a family photo in the snow, so you forced me to come, calling me dramatic when I hesitated.

Clara was the daughter of my dad’s late military buddy. Her father had died saving my dad's life. Out of guilt and pity, my dad treated her better than his own daughter.

I had to give up everything for her. Anything my parents bought for me would end up in her hands. If I complained even a little, they would yell at me for being selfish.

Over time, I became a desperate people-pleaser. I obeyed Clara's every whim, hoping my parents would love me just a little bit more.

This trip was supposed to be different. Clara had intentionally stepped on and shattered the antique gold locket my late grandmother left me.

It was the only thing I had left of her.

I was so devastated that my parents finally agreed to take me to the beach—a trip they had promised me a thousand times but never delivered.

But then Clara suddenly said she wanted to see the snow instead. So, they changed the destination instantly. They forced me to come along just because of one word from her.

And now, somehow, it was all my fault.

Up on that freezing mountain, I had begged them to take me back. But they only saw the tiny scratch on Clara’s leg and screamed at me.

"Chloe, Clara is bleeding! How can you still try to steal the spotlight?"

Clara had pretended to cry, whimpering, "It doesn't hurt, Dad. Chloe didn't mean to push me."

Looking at Clara’s "bleeding" scratch, my parents went wild with rage.

"Chloe, you did this on purpose, didn't you?"

"How did we give birth to such a malicious monster?"

With that, they carried Clara and hurried down the mountain.

I begged them to take me, but they accused me of faking my injuries to ruin Clara’s recovery. They left me there to "reflect on my actions" and walk down by myself.

After they left, I dragged my broken leg, shivering with a raging fever, and crawled through the freezing snow.

Just when I was almost at the exit, the mountain roared. An avalanche triggered.

I remember the sheer despair. The heavy snow crushed my bones, and the sub-zero temperatures sucked the remaining warmth from my body.

As my vision blurred, I looked in the direction my parents had gone.

If they knew I died here, would they be even a little sad? Would they finally give me a fraction of the love they gave to Clara?