Chapter 2

The snow had risen to my chest.

Each breath felt like shards of ice scraping my lungs.

I didn't dare scream anymore, afraid of triggering another collapse.

I pressed the phone to my cheek and, with fingers almost too numb to move, called my mother.

The moment I spoke, my sobs were ripped apart by the wind.

"Mom, save me."

"I'm at the north slope camp. An avalanche hit."

"The snow's up to my chest. My stomach hurts so much, and I'm bleeding..."

Finally, my parents' voices sounded shaken.

"What? Ava, are you really in the snow?"

My father's voice was urgent,

"Don't move! Send us your location!"

I clung to that glimmer of hope,

"I'm telling the truth, Mom and Dad. I'm not lying."

"Please call the rescue team. Please, hurry..."

But then Sophia's feeble voice came through the line.

"Dad, Mom, is that sister?"

"It's my fault Mark sent her to the mountains to reflect."

She coughed softly, her voice as fragile as glass.

"But isn't that a tourist camp area? It should be safe, right..."

"Sister must think I don't deserve her apology..."

My mother's tone shifted instantly.

"Ava, how long are you going to keep this act up?"

My father's voice went cold too,

"You deliberately locked Sophia out and gave her a high fever. She's still not better."

"We only sent you to the mountains for a little while to teach you a lesson, and you have to cause this much drama?"

I shook my head desperately.

"I didn't..."

My mother cut me off impatiently,

"That's enough!"

"As long as you're around, there's never any peace in this house."

"Sophia has always been frail. Why do you have to keep picking on her?"

"You're our biological daughter—shouldn't you be more understanding?"

In that moment, the pain in my chest was suffocating.

In their hearts, my life meant less than one word from Sophia.

I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe.

"I'm going to die..."

"Mom, I'm really going to die out here..."

There was silence on the other end.

For a second, I thought she might care.

But then Sophia murmured quietly, "Mom, I feel like having some soup."

My mother immediately panicked.

"Okay, okay, Mom will go buy it right now."

My father added, "Rest now. Don't worry about Ava. She's just spoiled."

The line died.

I stared at the black screen, numb.

My life wasn't even worth Sophia's random craving for soup.

The snow grew tighter around me.

I knew I couldn't wait any longer.

I started digging with my hands.

My nails tore; blood mixed into the snow and froze almost instantly.

I gritted my teeth, tears frozen on my face.

"Hang on..."

"I have to hold on..."

The wind blew snow back, filling every gap I created.

Desperation consumed me.

Finally, trembling, I sent a video call to my mother.

When it connected, Sophia appeared on the screen.

She looked at my pathetic state on the camera, smiled faintly, and muted her microphone.

I could see everything on their end, but they couldn't hear me.

Inside a warm restaurant booth, my mother was leaning over to drape a coat over Sophia's shoulders.

My father spooned soup into her mouth, stroking her head affectionately.

Mark stood beside her, adjusting her scarf.

I watched the screen, my chest aching.

The place was warm, filled with flowers and cake on the table.

My mother held Sophia's hand, beaming as she said they were celebrating her hospital discharge.

Mark served her soup and food.

When she coughed softly, he handed her warm water.

It was a tenderness I had never known.

With cracked, frozen fingers, I pounded at the screen, screaming over and over,

"Mom!"

"I'm here!"

"Save me!"

Just then, my mother frowned and mentioned me,

"Ava is really getting out of hand."

"Sophia's been through so much, and she's still making trouble."

"Using the baby to lie to us—honestly."

My father looked at Sophia with adoring eyes,

"Don't worry about her."

"Let her reflect a few more days."

The video call ended abruptly, and my heart sank into the snow.

They were all around Sophia, giving her warmth, favor, and affection.

And I was alone, buried in the mountains, not even allowed to cry out loud.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled myself upward, and my chest loosened just a little.

Cold air flooded my lungs; I started coughing violently.

But the next second, I lost my balance and fell back hard.

The phone slipped from my hand and smashed into the snow.

As my consciousness faded, I only saw that the snow beneath me was redder than before.