Chapter 3

The tension in the room vanished, replaced by a suffocating silence.

It only eased when Damian offered to lead the officers to find me for questioning.

"Damian, does your sister like to hang out by the river at night? Why would she be out there?"

"Hey, I get it. Sibling drama, right? My sister drives me crazy too!"

"But she’s your blood. Who else is going to spoil her? Just swallow your pride and make up. Don't hold a grudge against a kid."

"I told you, she doesn't deserve it! She can rot for all I care!"

Damian snapped, as if a raw nerve had been touched.

In a fit of rage, he hurled his phone onto the ground, his chest heaving.

Everyone stared at him, bewildered and concerned.

"You don't know the truth! The victim of the first attack years ago was my mom!"

"Sienna killed her! She is a walking curse!"

"If she hadn't whined about a stupid fever and forced Mom to take her to the hospital in the middle of the night, Mom would still be alive!"

Damian’s voice cracked, his emotions spiraling.

He covered his face, trying to suppress the agonizing pain buried deep in his heart.

By the end, he was screaming, sounding like a wounded, helpless child begging for his mother.

"Because of her, I don't have a mother anymore! How could I ever protect a murderer?!"

"My dad and I wanted to build a memorial, but we didn't even have a body to bury!"

Damian cried, and I wept right alongside him. My chest ached so badly I felt like throwing up.

For years, every time I knelt by that river, those were the exact words hurled at me.

Dad called me a curse, a murderer, the most evil child on earth.

Damian hated me. He hated me for taking Mom away, for having a fever that night.

They said I was the one who destroyed our perfect family.

So, they would grab me by the neck, shove my head into the freezing water, and ask me over and over why it wasn't me who died that night.

They wanted to prove a point—that between me and Mom, Mom was the only one who mattered.

But they forgot. Once, I was the little girl they held in the palms of their hands.

An officer sighed heavily, breaking the silence.

"The living are what matters now. You guys are family."

"I said, she doesn't deserve it!"

The light in my eyes died out. I shook my head bitterly.

If Damian knew I was dead, would he feel a little happier? A little relieved?

Would he... forgive me just a little?

"Captain! We searched the entire riverbank! No sign of her!"

"But we found a mess of chaotic footprints. And this—a strawberry hairpin."

That hairpin was hand-crafted by Damian. It had a tiny GPS tracker hidden inside.

Back when I was in middle school, Damian forgot to pick me up, and I got lost.

My family and the police searched for six months before rescuing me from a trafficking ring.

I never forgot Damian's guilt-ridden eyes back then, or my parents' terrified, loving faces.

Damian had sworn he would protect me from getting hurt for the rest of his life.

Yet, all that love turned into a double-edged sword, sending me straight back to hell.

Damian only spared the hairpin a cold glance before stepping forward to inspect the footprints.

My heart began to race with a spark of hope.

I wasn't kneeling there like I usually did, and my hairpin was on the ground. Damian was smart; surely he would notice something was off?

If he just mentioned it to the police...

Maybe... they could still find my body.

"Damian! Where is your sister? Could she have been kidnapped?"