Mom patted Cindy's hand tenderly. "Don't worry about Flora. If she wants to pretend to be sick, let her. She can just go to hell for all I care."

I floated in the air, clutching my aching chest as I curled up helplessly.

"Mom, I didn't lie to you. I'm really dying," I thought.

Cindy glanced at the phone and continued persuading, "Mom, maybe something really did happen to Flora—"

Before she could finish, Mom cut her off firmly, "Impossible. She's my daughter. I birthed her. How could I not know what she's up to? She's pretending! Don't always be so soft-hearted.

"If it weren't for the shady little tricks she pulled behind our backs back then, I wouldn't have lost the chance to be your spotter. If I'd been your spotter, something like this wouldn't have happened to you."

She made a solemn promise to Cindy. "Once you recover and leave the hospital, I'll go back and submit a report so I can be your spotter. Only when I watch over you myself will I feel at ease.

"Don't assume that Flora sees you as family just because you're sisters. Have you forgotten how she took advantage of your illness to steal your spot and enter the state team? If it hadn't been for you, she wouldn't have become a gymnast at all.

"She stole your spot. Now, she's pretending to be sick and dying to gain sympathy. Why would I have such a vile daughter? I should have strangled her back when she was born to save myself all this trouble!"

As I listened to her rant, a tide of bitterness and sorrow surged in my heart. Perhaps, in Mom's eyes, everything I did was wrong.

She had never believed me. Back then, Cindy and I were both promising candidates for the state gymnastics team. But at that time, there was only one available spot.

The head coach, Bethany Johnson, chose me when everyone on our gymnastics team was present. But on that very night, Cindy coughed violently and claimed she had a high fever. She falsely accused me of stealing her spot.

And just like that, Mom believed her. She was convinced that Cindy fell ill because she was too upset that I had stolen her spot.

But Mom herself had once been a professional gymnast. She could tell that I had more talent than Cindy. I was more qualified to enter the state team.

Still, she chose to ignore it.

Even when we sent in our applications for who we wanted as our spotters, Mom went directly to Bethany and said she didn't want to be my spotter.

When gymnasts perform routines, many high-difficulty moves come with extreme risk. To ensure our safety, each gymnast could choose a spotter who could intervene in time if something went wrong.

Mom had gymnastics experience, and she was our parent. So, she was the best spotter Cindy and I could ask for.

I knew very well that Mom only had eyes for Cindy. When she went to speak with Bethany, she didn't even care to do it discreetly when I wasn't around. So, I heard everything clearly.

She didn't want to be tied to me in any way. Whether it was our mother-daughter relationship or the close bond between a gymnast and her spotter, she rejected it all. She hated me.

So, I never submitted an application and gave that opportunity to Cindy instead.

But when the assignments were announced, Mom became my spotter. Cindy's spotter, on the other hand, was a young and handsome male coach.

From then on, whether in training or during competitions, Mom only watched Cindy whenever she was performing. Over time, she couldn't react in time to my mistakes as she was more absorbed with watching Cindy.

I lowered my head to look at myself. My soul still retained the appearance I had in life. When I pulled back my clothes, underneath were countless scars that marred my body.

I had gotten injured many times. Fortunately, it wasn't to the extent that I lost my career because of them. Still, it had drastically shortened my athletic career. Inevitably, I would have to retire early while I was still young.

In my final competition before I was about to retire and leave the arena for good, I ran out of strength and made a mistake. To make things worse, Cindy had pushed me, which caused me to fall from a height.

My spine shattered. The intense pain drained all color from my face as my life hung by a thread.

As my spotter, Mom knew the severe consequences that could result from my fall. Yet, she chose to abandon me and run toward Cindy, who had only sprained her ankle but was crying until her face was streaked with tears.

Just because Cindy looked more pitiful, I was left to die.

Enduring the excruciating pain, I desperately clutched at Mom's pant leg and begged, "Mom, s-save me…"

She impatiently kicked me away. "If you're going to pretend to be hurt to hog my attention, at least pick the right time! Cindy twisted her ankle! What about you? That was just a minor fall. How bad can it be? It's a small injury. Get up yourself and go find a doctor. Don't bother me!

"If Cindy's injury is irreversible, can you take responsibility for it?"

The memory ended, but the intense pain spreading through my heart made me bend over. I wanted to curl up and hug myself for comfort.

A steady beeping sounded in my ears.

I saw myself on the hospital bed. I was no longer breathing, and the heart monitor flattened into a straight line.

And so, I died.

When I took my very last breath, the nurse never managed to reach Mom again.

The more I watched Cindy and Mom being all loving and close, the more disappointed I felt. The way Mom treated me was as if I weren't her daughter at all. I was more like a stray cat or dog living off her.

I wondered if Mom knew I had died, would she feel sad?

My guess was probably not.

…

A few days later, Cindy's injury had healed completely. Mom finally agreed to take her home. I followed them back as well.

Mom wrapped an arm around Cindy's shoulders and held her suitcase with her other hand.

She was still complaining nonstop, "You're getting discharged, and Flora doesn't even come back to help. What kind of older sister is she? Has she got no respect for me, her mother, anymore? When I get home, I'm definitely going to teach her a lesson!"

Cindy coughed a few times and covered her mouth, her face pale. "Don't be mad at Flora, Mom. She just wanted a bit of your attention but went about it the wrong way."

Mom's frown deepened upon hearing that. "You only see the best in people. That's why Flora keeps bullying you. There's no need to feel sorry for that wretch. She just flirts around with that seductress face of hers. If it weren't for her, I…"

She stopped herself mid-sentence and stopped the words that were about to tumble out of her mouth. The disgust in her eyes grew even more pronounced. It was so strong that it made me shudder.

"Forget it. Just thinking about her puts me in a bad mood," Mom hissed.

Just the mere mention of me would put her in a bad mood?

When I heard that, tears blurred my vision. I tried to reach out and grab Mom's hand, but my fingers passed through her body. I touched nothing but air.

Memories from the past surged into my mind like a rising tide.

My name was Flora, and Cindy was my younger sister. We were half-sisters who had the same mother but different fathers. Cindy was the child Mom had with my stepfather, Mikael Gardner.

Mom favored Cindy over me. She always felt that divorcing Mikael had deprived her of a complete family and that she owed her a happy childhood.

So, I always gave in and let Cindy have her way.

She splashed boiling water on me just because her classmates had praised me for being pretty when I went to pick her up. She forced me to learn gymnastics with her because Mom had insisted that she was more talented in it. She always wanted to outdo me in everything.

Her performance was lackluster during training. Bethany was very dissatisfied with her and chose me to enter the state team. So, Cindy lied and claimed I had stolen her spot.

She didn't even want Mom to be her spotter. The young male coach had once shown interest in me, so she insisted on taking him away from me. She also knew very clearly that Mom only had eyes for her and would never protect me.

A gymnast without a spotter's protection would expose themselves to severe risks. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff. One slight slip, and it would mean eternal ruin.

I had been too naive. I thought that as long as I didn't fight Cindy for Mom's affection and didn't expose her sloppy lies, I could at least survive.

How wrong I was!

I ended up dead on the operating table, reduced to a corpse that no one cared about.

It was just as Mom had wished. My existence irked her. She thought I deserved to die. More than anything, she hated me with her guts.

I used to think Mom hated me because of my unknown birth father.

I had burdened her for eight whole years, making it impossible for her to remarry. I dragged her down, making her the subject of our neighbors' ridicule and leaving her unable to hold her head high.

When Mikael appeared, things seemed to take a turn for the better. That honest and somewhat dull-looking man was willing to marry Mom and accept me, the baggage.

I could never quite shake off being labeled as the "baggage". Even in my new family, I was the jinx.

But… I was happy for a time. Even though Mikael's family didn't like me, he was different. No matter what Mom said or how she scolded me, he always protected me and treated me even better than he treated Cindy.

During that time, Mom started being more civil toward me because of him. I could have my own birthday cake, just like Cindy. If Mom were in a good mood, I'd even receive a little teddy bear as a gift.

But there always seemed to be some obscure motive behind Mikael's kindness toward me. As a child, I couldn't tell what that was.

It wasn't until later when the drunken Mikael pinned me to the bed and tore off my underwear that I finally figured it out. When I screamed hysterically until I almost lost my voice, I finally understood what lay beneath his so-called kindness.

It was carnal, lascivious lust.

I was terrified out of my mind. In my desperation, I grabbed a vase and smashed it over his head. The next moment, there was bright red blood everywhere I looked.

Before I could find my bearings, Mom rushed in screaming shrilly. She slapped me hard across the face.

That was when I learned that right after I was born, my birth father had abandoned Mom and ran away with a mistress. Later, I had grown up to be strikingly beautiful—so much so that Mom always suspected I might actually be that mistress' child and not hers.

She hated the woman who had taken my father away, and she hated me even more.

When she saw and gathered what had happened between Mikael and me, she had it in her mind that I was the one who seduced him. She thought I was just like that mistress from over a decade ago who tried to destroy her marriage.

She cursed me for being a shameless seductress. She used the harshest, most vicious words imaginable. She screamed at me, asking why I wasn't dead yet.

That night, dragging my bruised and battered body that was overwhelmed with guilt and pain, I jumped into the most turbulent river in the village.

As fate would have it, I was saved by a kind villager. So, I didn't die.

When Mom saw that I had been rescued, she looked very disappointed.

I knew it then. Deep down, she wished that I had died the night I was born. Every single day and night, she regretted not strangling me to death after I came to this world. My existence had ruined every possibility of happiness in her life.

I thought maybe I really did deserve to die. That way, Mom wouldn't need to feel so much hatred and pain whenever she thought of me.

As I snapped out of my reverie, I saw Mom and Cindy surrounded by a crowd of reporters with their cameras already poised as soon as they stepped out of the hospital.

Startled, Cindy let out a frightful yelp and hid behind Mom.

The reporters surrounded them with frenzied eyes hungry for the latest news.

"Ms. Saddler, what do you have to say regarding the major accident your daughter suffered at the gymnastics competition three days ago, which ultimately led to her death in the hospital?"

Agitated, Mom shoved the microphones away impatiently. "Don't speak nonsense! My daughter is right here. She only sprained her ankle. How can you blatantly jinx her when she's right here?"

The reporter paused and took out a phone to check something.

"Ms. Saddler, I think you've misunderstood. The one who died from the accident at the venue was your elder daughter, Ms. Flora Saddler, not the one beside you now."

Mom's expression turned grim and displeased instantly.

The reporter continued pressing, "As her spotter, you failed to notice the danger she was in in time. Regarding this, is there anything you'd like to say to the public?"

I stared closely at Mom's expression. I had only seen that same furious look on her face once before this. It was on the night Mikael tried to assault me, and she slapped me hard without holding back.

Now, she grabbed the reporter by the collar and demanded coldly, "Who did you say has died? Is Flora dead?"

Everyone was too frightened to move.

But I caught a faint hint of a tremor in her voice. It was as if she couldn't believe it.