My phone rang, shattering the quiet. I ignored
- it. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.
But it kept ringing.
It was Olivia. Her first call since Evan’s
anniversary.
“Ethan, are you deaf?!” Her voice, tight with
anger, cut through the fog in my head, easing the pain slightly. I managed a weak “Hmm.”
“Ethan, dinner at home tonight. Dad’s back.”
Her tone was icy, a command, not an
invitation. Since Evan’s death, she never
called me “baby brother” anymore.
“Can’t.” I gritted out, trying to hide my
<
distress. The dizziness intensified, nausea
rising.
I heard a crash from the other end. “Ethan,
are you insane?!”
I chuckled inwardly. Yes, I was insane.
Terminally so. She was about to say
something else, but I hung up, switching my
phone to silent. My legs buckled, and I slid to
the ground.
“Olivia, I’m your brother, not your enemy.”
- 7.
I’d often wondered why Olivia hated me so
much. In the beginning, after Evan’s death,
we were all consumed by grief. Mom would
hold me, crying, calling me Evan’s name.
く
Back then, Olivia wasn’t this cruel. Even
under Dad’s accusing stare, she’d take me
out, sneak me iced lattes after school. She
was a ray of light in my world.
Then Dad left, and Olivia transformed. She
became cold, distant, frightening. No more
secret lattes. She’d throw them away, saying I
didn’t deserve them. In public, she’d say her
brother was dead.
Once, my aunt and cousin, Chloe, were
visiting. Chloe tripped and fell, crying in
Olivia’s arms, falsely accusing me of pushing
her. Olivia didn’t hesitate. She slapped me,
hard, yelling about how vicious I was, how I’d
already killed Evan, and now I was after
Chloe.
That was the first time she hit me. I cried,
L
telling her I was her brother, why wouldn’t she
believe me? Chloe was notoriously
mischievous, even her mom admitted she was
spoiled. But Olivia was blindly on Chloe’s side.
It sparked our first real fight.
That slap, that betrayal, shattered something
in me. I realized then, she truly hated me.
Later, she learned Chloe had lied but never
apologized. She just grew colder. She’d bump
into me on the stairs, ignoring me like a
stranger. I’d stumble, nearly falling, and she’d
just walk on.
