My family has always considered me a harbinger of misfortune. It's all because I can see a countdown to my relatives' deaths.

I tell them when my grandfather, father, and mother will die. It all comes true due to various accidents. My three brothers hate me to the core because they think I cursed my parents and grandfather. My mother actually dies after giving birth to my younger sister, but my brothers dote on her to no end.

They say she's their lucky star because everything goes well for the family after she's born. But didn't Mom die while giving birth to her?

On my 18th birthday, I see my death countdown when I look at myself in the mirror.

I buy an urn I like and prepare a meal. I want to have one last meal with my brothers, but none of them show up even when the timer hits zero…

I'd been able to see a countdown to death above people's heads since I was a child.

The first time I saw it was when it appeared above my grandfather's head. I told my parents about it, but they didn't mind me. They thought it was just part of a child's imagination.

When I saw my grandfather again the next day, he lay on the bed with a white cloth over his face. People were crying, but I didn't understand what was going on.

Later, I saw the same countdown timer above my father's head. When I told him about it, his smile froze for a second before he regained his composure. That night, I didn't see him return from work.

All I heard was the urgent ringing of a phone. My mother turned ashen when she answered the call. She was already heavily pregnant at the time. She was in such a rush to head out that she slipped and fell on the steps, going into labor.

That was when I saw the familiar 24-hour countdown appear above her head. That day, she passed away due to major blood loss after giving birth to my sister, Phoebe. I stood outside the operating theater, feeling lost.

My third brother, Carl, shoved me to the floor and called me a monster. He said I'd cursed them, that I was the reason for my parents' deaths.

I scraped my palm on the floor, and blood oozed out. I wanted to cry from the pain but forced myself to hold it in when I looked around. The people standing around me didn't dare come near—I could see the fear and hatred in their eyes.

I didn't dare make a sound. All I did was bite my lip and get to my feet. Then, I dusted my dress off and comforted myself.

After that, I curled up in a corner and listened to the sobs around me. I hugged my knees and wept. "Daddy, Mommy…"

I slowly drifted off. When I woke up, I found that I was alone. Everyone had left, but no one had bothered waking me up. Was it because they didn't want me anymore?

I got to my feet, feeling panicked. However, my legs were numb after being curled up for too long, so I fell to the floor.

The corridor was silent; only the blinding lights were with me. Pain consumed my body, and I couldn't hold back the flood of tears.

That was the day everything in my life changed.

My three elder brothers treated Phoebe like a princess but avoided me like the plague. Even the maids brushed me off.

It was a regular occurrence for me to go to bed while starving. That didn't stop me from reaching the age of 18, though.

Carl always said I was a monster who would forever plague the rest of the family, and I somewhat agreed. I wondered whether I was still alive because I was too evil for hell to take me in.

On this day, I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to wash up. My hair was dry and frizzy, and my cheeks were sunken. No one would ever think I was the oldest daughter of the affluent Jensen family.

That was beside the point, though. What caught my attention was the countdown timer above my head. I saw the bright red numbers above my mirror reflection.

The day had finally come. I wanted to smile but only managed to lift the corners of my lips slightly.

I slowly put down my glass of water and stared dazedly at my reflection. I didn't have friends and rarely came into contact with anyone. How was I going to spend my final day in this world?

After a long moment of consideration, I washed up and descended from the attic where I lived. My original room had been converted into Phoebe's walk-in wardrobe shortly after her birth.

In the past, I'd looked out the small attic window at the little girl running around and having fun in the garden. She was innocent, pure, and free of worries. Meanwhile, I could only hide in the shadows and peek at her happiness.

It wasn't exactly early, so I was surprised Phoebe and my second brother, Eugene, were still at home. I heard Phoebe's tinkling laughter as I headed downstairs.

She held up a tie and said, "Let me tie your tie, Eugene!"

He lowered his head and watched her indulgently as she tied a crooked tie. When she was done, she stepped back to take a look at it, sounding upset as she said, "It's crooked. Maybe you should take it off and do it yourself."

He didn't. Instead, he caressed her head with a smile. "It's okay. This is your first time tying a tie, and you've done well. Come on, I'll take you to school today."

Phoebe held his hand happily when she heard that.

Bitterness washed over me when I recalled my younger self. I'd knitted a scarf for the first time. It had taken me days but had still turned out crooked and uneven.

I'd nervously given it to Eugene, hoping he would compliment me and caress my head as he'd done in the past. To my dismay, he hadn't even accepted the scarf. On the contrary, he'd given me a dirty look and snarled, "Who knows whether I'll be cursed if I wear that?"

I'd later given the scarf to our dog, Lulu. I hoped it would make her bed cozier and warmer. However, I saw it in the trash can the following day. It had been cut into pieces and could no longer be put together.

I'd dug it out, uncaring of the dirt. I'd picked up the pieces, washed them, and tucked them into a box. They'd never seen the light of day after that day.

The main door swung open, and Eugene and Phoebe were about to leave. I decided to try to make them stay. "Eugene, Phoebe."

The looks on their faces were very different when they turned to look at me. Phoebe's eyes lit up when she saw me, and she happily called my name.

Beside her, Eugene's expression darkened. He seemed to want to say something but stopped himself after glancing at Phoebe.

"Can we have dinner together? Just this once is enough," I said, nervously awaiting their answer.

"Of course!"

"No."

The answers were simultaneous but completely different. Phoebe turned to Eugene, looking confused. "Why not?"

Yeah, why not?

"Didn't you promise Gary that you would accompany him to an auction? That's tonight," he said.

"Really?" Something occurred to Phoebe when she met Eugene's confident gaze. The realization dawned on her, and she turned to look at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Holly. It looks like we won't have time to have dinner together tonight."

She smiled after some thought. "How about we do this tomorrow? We can have dinner as a family tomorrow."

A family? I forced out an ugly smile, almost drowning in my bitterness. There was no tomorrow for me, but I still agreed to her suggestion and watched her leave the house.

Before turning away, Eugene gave me a warning look. It was sharp, and I felt like he wanted to stab me with it. "Don't let me catch you trying to pull something funny, Holly. Touch a hair on Pheebs' head, and we'll come after you with everything we've got. Stay away from her."

I watched Phoebe and Eugene left. The earlier joy I'd felt when Eugene had stopped to speak to me immediately disappeared. I felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured over me.

Was that what he thought of me? That I was an evil murderer?

My heart hurt, as did my stomach. I headed to the kitchen to get something to eat, but there wasn't any food in sight. All that was left was half a slice of bread.

I started eating it with a few cashew nuts, but they did nothing to fill my stomach. A maid passed by and rolled her eyes when she saw me. Maybe she thought I didn't see her.

When she saw the bread, she feigned surprise and said, "Oh, my! Don't tell me you ate that, Ms. Holly. I was supposed to throw it. Ms. Phoebe and your brothers woke up early, so we prepared breakfast according to their schedule. I can make you something now if you want."

I frowned at the annoyed look on her face. Then, I turned down her insincere suggestion and endured the sharp pain in my stomach. I returned to the attic. There was no room for me in this family, and even the maids treated me like I was a piece of trash.

The pain in my stomach was making me lose control of my emotions. My hands trembled as I swallowed some painkillers with water. After a while, the discomfort faded somewhat.

I changed my clothes and put on some light makeup, wanting to look a bit more spirited. My first stop was a funeral supply store. Since I only had one day left, I couldn't get a custom-made urn, so I picked my favorite pattern from the ones available. This urn would be my home in the future.

I left the store with the urn in my arms. I could sense the odd or surprised looks that landed on me, but I ignored them. I headed to my next destination.

I passed by Carl's school on my way. Class happened to let out then, and I heard the students' laughter. I watched them a little enviously—they were so youthful and spirited. Unlike them, I hadn't stepped foot in a school since I was ten.

I was about to leave when I saw Carl get out of the car to head inside. Since it was my last day in this world, I mustered the courage to jog to him.

But as I approached, I saw him frowning while speaking to someone on the phone. When he saw me, a hint of wariness flickered in his eyes. He said, "Got it."

Then, he hung up and stalked toward me. I wanted to ask him to have dinner with me that night, but the look in his eyes made me hold myself back.

He snarled, "Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself if you want to remain a member of the Jensen family, Holly. I'll show you what hell on earth is like if you dare do anything to Pheebs."