Chapter 3

2.

That was the truth. In my final moments, I was stripped of all hope, consumed by unbearable pain.

I had become a wandering spirit.

My parents dismissed the supervisor's words entirely.

They rushed Seraphina back to the hospital, pulling every string to find a kidney, desperate to keep her alive.

If they had spent even a fraction of that effort on me, they would have found my death certificate in seconds.

But they didn't.

Wasting half a day looking for their 'unfilial' daughter was the greatest sacrifice they were willing to make.

Seraphina was their precious treasure, the apple of their eye. As for me, I was the unwanted second child, a 'violation' of family planning that had cost them their jobs―a walking disaster.

So, I was supposed to accept their bias.

Three years ago, I got into a prestigious high school with top marks, and my parents finally started paying some attention to me.

But before I could enjoy it, tragedy struck.

Seraphina fell down the stairs at my birthday party and broke both her legs.

"Elara pushed me!"

She sobbed in my mother's arms, a flicker of cunning in her eyes―even though she had jumped herself!

No one listened to my defense. My parents were furious and immediately canceled my high school enrollment.

I was dumped into a boarding school.

Seraphina was badly hurt, so they stayed by her side, not even taking me to register for school.

When I tried to register, the teachers called my parents a dozen times.

No one answered.

Half a day later, my mother called back, sounding annoyed.

"My daughter is resting after surgery. Stop harassing us with your calls!"

"I only have one daughter, Seraphina. I don't know who this Elara is!"

She hung up with a sharp click.

The teachers looked at me with pity and marked me as 'without parents' on my records.

I wiped my tears and tried to swipe my card for tuition, but a cold, electronic voice sounded.

"Insufficient funds."

No money, no love.

I pushed myself to work part-time jobs everywhere to earn enough for tuition, but my body, damaged by poor nutrition, finally hit its limit.

Terminal stomach cancer. It required a massive amount of money to treat.

But my parents' numbers were always unreachable.

The teachers, believing I was an orphan, organized a small donation, but it wasn't enough.

Alone, I curled into a ball in the corner of the hospital room, the pain so sharp it felt like my bones were vibrating.

I still held onto hope. My parents would come; I could still be saved!

But in that endless wait, the pain eroded my nerves, and death arrived in the silence.