Chapter 4

Ashley first contacted Liam using the excuse that her "computer was broken."

"Chloe, I heard your boyfriend works in IT. Can you send me his SnapChat? My computer crashed, and I urgently need to work on some files."

My sister and I had been at odds since childhood, so her sudden friendliness took me by surprise. I foolishly sent her Liam's contact.

For the next two weeks, Ashley didn't contact me again, and I assumed the computer was fixed and the matter was over.

Until one day, the three of us accidentally met out and went to dinner.

While ordering, I was about to choose a mango pastry when Liam suddenly pressed my hand, blurting out, "Don't order that. Ashley is allergic to mangoes."

My whole body froze, a buzzing sound in my head.

I had never told Liam that Ashley was allergic to mangoes.

I turned to Ashley, who was covering her mouth, giggling, "Oh my, Liam has such a good memory. I just casually mentioned it when we were chatting the night before last, and you actually remembered."

The night before last? Chatting?

I looked at Liam, feeling a chill run through me. So, without my knowledge, they had become close enough to chat late at night.

On the way home that day, I lost my temper with Liam for the first time.

"Why were you secretly contacting my sister behind my back?"

Liam, however, looked innocent, even a little impatient: "Chloe, do you have some kind of paranoia? She's your own sister! She just got back to the country; she doesn't know a lot of things. What's wrong with her asking me? Aren't I taking care of your sister to make a good impression on your family, for our future?"

"But you crossed a line!" I yelled, my eyes red.

"Crossed a line? I just helped her fix her computer and chatted casually for a bit. How is that crossing a line? Piglet, can you stop being so sensitive? Are you serious about making such a fuss over something so trivial?"

*Piglet.*

He called me Piglet again.

I instantly felt all my strength drain away. I thought that by showing him my scabbed wound, he would be sympathetic, but instead, he unhesitatingly rubbed salt in it.

From then on, Ashley seemed to have a get-out-of-jail-free card, becoming more and more brazen.

I'd ask Liam to pick up a package for me on his way home from work, and he'd put it off for three days, saying he was too tired. But if Ashley wanted late-night street tacos from across town, he'd immediately put on his jacket and drive halfway across the city to get them.

For Valentine's Day, he gave me a wilting, discounted bouquet of roses. For Ashley's birthday, however, he spent half a month's salary to pick out a limited-edition necklace for her at a boutique.

I argued, I cried, I even confronted my parents.

But what did they say?

"Ashley is your sister! What's wrong with Liam helping her out? You're not even married yet, and you're already controlling your man so tightly. With your petty and small-minded personality, who would ever want you in the future?"

"Ashley has always been more outstanding and sensible than you! Her testing your boyfriend for you is for your own good! Don't be ungrateful!"

Everyone stood on their moral high ground, accusing me.

Everyone thought I was making a mountain out of a molehill, that I was an irrational lunatic.

Over time, I even started to doubt myself: Was I really too narrow-minded? Did I really have a mental illness?

I fell into a deep cycle of self-destruction, checking his phone like a maniac every day, looking for clues, only to be harshly shamed by him using the excuse of "family loyalty."

What truly made me give up completely, what made me finally tear that cancerous growth from my heart, was the day I had surgery last month.