When my acceptance letter arrived, I was bedridden with a sudden high fever. My sister, Lainey Holmes, was taken away on her way to collect it, and no one knew if she was alive or dead. My parents, consumed by their grief and anger, turned on me. They tore up my acceptance letter and forced me to abandon my studies to work in a factory. Eventually, I was taken away, too. After a narrow escape, I sought refuge in an abandoned factory and sent my parents a desperate message for help. My father called in a voice filled with rage. “Sophie Holmes, are you out of your mind? You’re joking about that on the anniversary of Lainey’s death? “Do you have any idea how much your mother and I wish it was you who died that year?” Even in my final moments, their hateful words rang in my ear. I was tortured to death, and my body was discarded in a gutter for three days. Even my father, a seasoned forensic expert, couldn’t recognize me. When Lainey finally returned with her boyfriend—the one she had once eloped with—my father had just barely restored my appearance using forensic techniques. They knelt before my decaying corpse, wailing until they fainted. ***** It had been pouring for three days; the entire city felt drenched, a suffocating fog blanketing everything. When my bloated body finally floated out of the gutter, I terrified many onlookers. An eight-year-old boy was frightened and cried, clinging to his mother as she soothed him softly. As I watched them, tears filled my eyes. I hadn’t felt my mother’s embrace in years. Since Lainey went missing six years ago, my parents had only aimed their hatred at me. They hadn’t even given me a smile, let alone a hug. Soon, a cordon surrounded the scene, and I stood in the crowd, silently watching my rotting body. A police car pulled up, and my eyes lit up when the door swung open. My father’s colleague, Jace, hurried over to brief him. “Calvin, it looks like the body has been in the water for three days. With the rainstorm, any evidence at the scene may have been washed away. You’ll need to put extra effort into examining the body. “The DNA from the deceased has been sent to the lab, and we’ll get the results as soon as possible.” When my father laid eyes on my body, he frowned, his eyes reddening. Clenching his fists, he ground out. “This is so cruel!” I glanced at my lifeless form. The sight was indeed horrific. My hands and feet had been severed, my face mutilated beyond recognition, and even my eyeballs had been gouged out. The terror I felt before my death lingered on my features. My mouth was agape because I had screamed and cried before my death, and my tongue was severed, adding to the gruesome scene. At one glance, my father shed tears. I wept silently behind him. He hadn’t cried for me in six long years. He crouched in front of my body, his trembling hands tracing the scars that marred my skin. In a broken voice, he murmured, “The features of the deceased are unrecognizable, but it appears to be a young woman around 25 years old. “She endured multiple beatings before she was killed. Damn it. What kind of monster could do this? She was so young. Her family must be shattered!” Tears streamed down my face as I listened. Dad, if you knew it was me before you, would your heart ache just a little? After all, I was the one you hated the most in this world. For countless nights, you had screamed at me to go to hell. Now, you finally had what you wanted.
My lifeless body was placed into body bags and transported to my father’s office. Before long, my limbs were located and sent to him without delay. Jace frowned as he stood before the autopsy table, pointing to my finger. “Calvin, take a look. This deceased has clenched fists, but the middle finger of her right hand is broken off. Could there have been jewelry that could help identify her?” “I think so,” my father replied, nodding in agreement. Jace hesitated, glancing at my father. “I remember Sophie wears a ring on the middle finger of her right hand…” My father lifted his gaze, a hint of annoyance in his eyes. “There are plenty of people who wear rings. Do you think it’s that simple to kill her?” Jace, clearly anxious, grabbed my father’s arm, still wearing his gloves. “Calvin, do you remember that serial killer?” My father shuddered at the mention. That case had haunted him for years. Six years ago, he was the city’s most renowned forensic expert, while my mother was the youngest head of the Criminal Investigation Department. Back then, Jace was one of my mother’s subordinates. They were consumed by the hunt for a killer who had claimed the lives of eight girls, working tirelessly for a month without returning home. The killer was eventually apprehended, but there wasn’t enough evidence to secure a conviction. In a last-ditch effort, my father isolated himself in the forensic lab for three days without sleep, finally discovering the key evidence needed to convict the murderer. But no one anticipated that the killer had a twin brother. The day the murderer was executed was also the day Lainey went missing. The surveillance footage showed a man in a black raincoat dragging Lainey away, and she hadn’t been seen since. It was widely suspected that the murderer’s brother had taken her, but no one had the courage to voice that grim possibility. A year later, my mother resigned, overwhelmed by grief, while my father remained with the police force. Now, bringing up the past made my father visibly uneasy. Jace observed him closely, hesitating before saying, “If it really is him, Sophie could be in serious danger…” My father interrupted him impatiently, “Enough. “I would love to see Sophie dead. I warned her to keep an eye on Lainey and not let her go out, but she still asked Lainey to help her with her acceptance letter! “It was pouring that day, and Lainey was so young. The terror on her face as she was dragged away shattered my heart!” I had heard this story countless times. My parents would call me periodically, lashing out, blaming me for being so cold-hearted to push my sister to her doom while I stayed safe at home. I had defended myself, insisting I wasn’t responsible. That day, I had been in a feverish coma and had no idea Lainey was leaving the house. But they never believed me. To them, I was a heartless monster, a liar. In the midst of their endless accusations and blame, I often wished it had been me who vanished that year. If only I hadn’t fallen ill that day. If only I could have held on and not succumbed to my fever. If only I could have been the one to disappear instead of her. At least then, I wouldn’t be the unforgivable sinner I had become, living a life filled with misery. Jace sighed, wanting to continue his persuasion. But my father had shifted his focus, inspecting the deceased’s teeth. He slightly furrowed his brow while examining my broken front tooth. Then, he impassively instructed his assistant, “The deceased is missing a front tooth. From the fracture, it appears to have been broken quite some time ago. Make sure to include this in the autopsy report and inform the police; it could be a crucial clue in identifying her.” I looked at my father, tears brimming in my eyes. He had likely forgotten that his daughter, the one he loathed the most, was also missing a front tooth—the one he had broken himself.
Lainey had been missing for six years. In my parents’ minds, she was already gone for good. They buried her clothes, bought her a headstone, and marked the anniversary of her disappearance as the day of her death. I was only allowed to go home on that day to visit her grave, to repent, and to apologize. Last year, I fainted on my way to the train station, and a passerby took me to the hospital, making me miss my train home. Three days later, I returned home. My furious father yanked my hair and dragged me to Lainey’s grave. He held my head and slammed it against the tombstone. I was knocked dizzy, but his anger didn’t fade. He slapped me repeatedly until the corners of my mouth split, and one of my front teeth was knocked out. But now, he seemed to have forgotten all that. Maybe he never cared at all. In his eyes, no matter the injury I sustained—even if I died—I deserved it. Tears streamed down my face. Dad, I was really dead. I wondered if this was the atonement you’d hoped for. My father was engrossed in examining the body when his phone rang. He impatiently took off his gloves and answered it. “Sophie hasn’t come back yet. She just doesn’t want to repent to Lainey!” my mother snapped. I managed a bitter smile. Did they really think I didn’t want to come back? No. I was dead, killed by a gangster. My father scoffed. “She’d be better off never coming back. It’d be best if she just died. I can’t stand the sight of her!” I listened to their insults, my heart breaking all over again. I had reached out for help that day, but they didn’t care. Maybe my death was a relief for them. In fact, even if I hadn’t been killed, my time was limited. A year ago, when I fainted, they diagnosed me with a brain tumor. I told my parents, but they dismissed me, thinking I was just seeking sympathy. “Sophie, if you want to die, go ahead. Don’t expect us to feel sorry for you.” I didn’t want to die. They were getting older and needed someone to care for them. But now, watching the disgust in their eyes as they spoke about me, I felt a strange sense of relief that I had died this way. They had always hoped I would vanish, and I believed they felt happy when they discovered I had died so tragically. After hanging up, my father turned his attention back to my body. His eyes started to redden as he took in the sight. He said, his voice trembling, “The deceased had knife wounds—eight stabs, and they all missed the vital organs. “The cause of death was excessive bleeding. The murderer is a true monster. He let a girl bleed to death. How agonizing that must have been!” I felt an even deeper bitterness. It was indeed painful. I had writhed in agony, but all I could do was cry helplessly. But my crying only seemed to annoy the murderer. He grinned as he gouged out my eyes. My father’s hands shook as he held the scalpel. He took a deep breath and instructed his assistants to prepare for a craniotomy. I held onto a sliver of hope. When he saw the tumor in my brain, would he think of me? Just then, the door to the forensic lab swung open. A young officer stood there, looking panic-stricken as he addressed my father. My father frowned, clearly annoyed. “What’s the rush? Young people these days are so reckless. “Can’t you see I’m busy? Make it quick!” Summoning the courage, the officer said, “Jace, Calvin, the DNA report of the deceased just came in. She… she is Calvin’s daughter!” At the same time, my mother’s eager and surprised voice cracked from my father’s phone. “Lainey is back. She’s still alive! “The neglect we showed Sophie over the years is enough to atone for her sins. Now that our family is finally reunited, let’s treat her right from now on.”
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