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."

I stiffened. This was about Phoebe again. I now knew who Carl had been on the phone with—Eugene.

Well, it made sense. I'd always been known as a symbol of misfortune. Why else would I have cursed my family members?

I couldn't help shuddering at the thought of what Carl was capable of. After my mother's death, a kind doctor had taken me home. For three days after that, Carl had locked me up in the tool shed without food or drinks. Nobody had cared about me.

To this day, the incident haunted me. I thought I was about to die on my third day without sustenance when my eldest brother, Gary, had descended from the heavens and set me free. Though he hadn't expressed any concern toward me, he was still the kindest among my brothers.

I supposed he'd already heard about what I'd said earlier that morning.

When I didn't respond, Carl probably thought his threat had scared me. He leaned close and said, "You know what I'm capable of. It's easy enough for me to make a person disappear without a trace."

I widened my eyes and stiffened. Then, I watched as he turned and left.

After a while, I turned to head to my next destination, my footsteps heavy. My brain seemed to have stopped working.

I entered a photography studio. When I told the receptionist that I was there to take a photo for my funeral, her gaze softened with pity.

She comforted me, and the words made my grievances burst forth. Strangers' kindness had a way of unraveling emotions, and that was exactly what happened to me.

My tears dampened her shoulders, but she didn't say anything. She merely patted my back silently. She was nothing but a stranger, yet she'd given me so much warmth.

After leaving the studio, I crouched by the roadside with my urn and photo. I stared into the distance, my gaze unfocused.

I decided to head to the company to look for Gary. It took me a while to find it because I'd never been there before. The staff at the front desk stopped me. They told me I couldn't enter the building without an appointment and that Gary couldn't answer his phone because he was in a meeting.

I didn't want to give up so easily. I dialed the phone number I'd committed to memory several times, but no one answered. Then, I searched for Gary's social media accounts.

It was my last day in this world, and I wanted him to spend it with me, even if it was just for a brief moment. I messaged him on Instagram and waited anxiously for his reply. I also requested to follow him.

Two hours passed without an answer. I didn't want to die while I was outside, so I returned home. The maids had left the house to do some grocery shopping, leaving the house empty and quiet.

I started preparing a feast for dinner. At the same time, I prayed my brothers would return. I didn't receive any messages or notifications that my follow request had been approved.

I sat down and looked at myself in a handheld mirror. I watched as the numbers above my head slowly counted down. I had three hours to go.

I wanted them to be with me on my last day in this life; I wanted to know how they would react when I died. Maybe they would be pleasantly surprised—no one cared about my life or death, after all. They were my family, but they despised me with every fiber of their being.

I brought the food to the table and waited. Some oil had splashed onto my hand while cooking, and it hurt. It didn't take away from my excitement, though.

I realized something was wrong with me. I was so excited that I couldn't help trembling.

There were two hours to go. I remained in my seat and stared fixedly at the door. Then, I picked up my phone and called Gary with trembling hands. "Gary."

He'd answered my call but didn't say anything. I asked, "Can you guys come home to have a meal with me? I'm going to die."