Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My sister and I were trapped in a blazing fire.

I inhaled massive amounts of scorching smoke, suffering severe burns throughout my respiratory tract. I desperately needed an emergency tracheotomy and a ventilator to survive.

Yet my father, the chief of surgery at Seattle Metro Hospital, ordered every on-duty doctor and nurse into my sister's room. He demanded a full-body scan for her minor superficial burn.

I begged him to save my life. But he only glared at me with pure disgust and barked, "Stop putting on a show! Don't you realize your sister almost got disfigured?"

In the end, I died alone in a neglected corner of the emergency wing.

Yet when the news of my death finally broke, the father who hated me the most completely lost his mind.

Three minutes before I took my final breath, my soul detached from my body and drifted toward my father.

He was sitting beside my sister's bed, clasping his hands in desperate prayer. "Peyton, please don't scare Daddy. Please wake up, sweetheart."

My mother stood nearby, trembling with rage. "If that little jinx Natalie had watched her properly, Peyton wouldn't have suffered like this! Just wait until I get my hands on her―I'll beat her half to death!"

I watched from above, a bitter ache washing over what was left of my heart.

Mom, you don't have to lift a finger anymore. I am already dead.

I died because of your cold indifference.

A dozen specialists stood in a tight circle around Peyton's bed.

After confirming she had only sustained a minor burn on her forearm, an older doctor finally gathered the courage to speak up about me. "Chief Campbell, shouldn't we check on Natalie? She inhaled massive amounts of toxic smoke, and her airway is severely burned."

The tenderness on my father's face instantly twisted into pure contempt. "What kind of drama is she pulling now? She looked perfectly fine when she walked in! Is she pretending to die just to get attention? Doesn't she feel any remorse for hurting her own sister?"

I stared at him numbly. My lifeless chest throbbed with a sharp, phantom pain.

I was his daughter too. Did he really not care about me at all?

Suddenly, my father grabbed his phone and dialed my number.

A nurse placed the receiver against my cold ear. But instead of the comfort I foolishly longed for, his familiar verbal abuse blasted through the speaker. "Natalie, when the hell are you going to drag yourself over here and apologize to Peyton?"

The last shred of warmth in my heart froze solid.

I stopped expecting anything from him.

He truly didn't give a damn about me.

When the paramedics first wheeled us in, I had gasped for air and begged him to save me. He had merely sneered, "Do you have to pick this moment to compete for attention? Your sister could have been permanently scarred!"

Without looking back, he used his administrative authority to pull the entire emergency team away from me.

As the hospital's chief, his word was law. No one dared to disobey him.

Why would he ever spare a second thought for me?

The nurse could no longer bear to watch and took the phone. "Chief Campbell, Natalie is in critical condition! Her respiratory failure index is―"

"How much did she pay you to play along with her pathetic little act?" my father interrupted with a cold sneer. "I had no idea that little brat was so good at manipulating people!"

Right at that moment, Peyton, who had been faking her coma, stirred on the bed. She parted her lips and let out a frail, trembling whisper. "Dad, Mom... how is Natalie doing?"

Looking at his sweet, considerate younger daughter, my father's face hardened with even deeper disgust toward me. "Natalie, why can't you be sensible like your sister? She's lying here hurt because of you, yet she's still worried about you! If you don't get your ass over here within three minutes to apologize, don't ever call me your father again!"

He slammed the phone down, his chest heaving with rage.

My mother crossed her arms, her expression dark. "Why even bother calling her? Hasn't she ruined Peyton's life enough already?"

A flicker of triumph flashed across Peyton's face before she lowered her head, feigning overwhelming guilt. "Mom, Dad, please don't be mad at Natalie. She's only resentful because I took her nomination spot for the international piano competition. She has every right to hate me."

I felt like laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Even after I was dead, my sister was still manipulating my parents against me.

Of course, my parents would never see through her act.

In their eyes, Peyton would always be the pure, innocent angel, while I was the wicked troublemaker.

And they would never suspect that the fire had been started by their precious little angel herself.