I had no idea how long I was unconscious, but I woke up to someone knocking at the door. Stumbling to open it, I found my landlady, Amanda Jones, there to collect the rent. Before she could voice her complaints, she was startled by my blood-covered appearance.

"Oh my God, what happened to you? Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

After the examination at the hospital, Amanda looked heartbroken. "Honey, you're so young. How did you end up with brain cancer?"

Seeing how pale and thin I was, barely able to eat anything, she called her son to bring homemade soup. She then patiently fed me spoonful by spoonful.

I couldn't help tearing up. Eight years ago, when I learned that my real parents weren't the abusive couple who raised me, this was exactly how I'd imagined a mother would be.

She gently wiped my tears away. "Hey, don't cry. With the right treatment, you can beat this."

I shook my head and transferred what was supposed to be my final paycheck for Kayla to her instead. "Thank you so much, but my tumor is malignant. There's not much hope.

"This isn't enough to cover rent and the medical bills you covered for me, but I swear I'll pay you back everything."

Despite Amanda's protests, I was stubborn about it. She could only sigh as she watched me handle the discharge paperwork.

Walking past a consultation room, I suddenly heard Kayla's familiar voice. "Mom, you shouldn't have brought up Nathan yesterday. Dylan had nightmares again about Nathan trying to send him away."

Dylan's voice was thick with tears. "I'm so scared he'll come back and make me leave. If I can't stay with you guys, I'd rather just die!"

The next moment, we locked eyes through the crack in the door. Dylan immediately screamed. "He's here! He's really here to get rid of me!"

He ran to the window and leaned halfway out. "Don't send me away! I won't go back to Rick Parker and his family just to get beaten! If you don't want me, I'll just kill myself!"

Mom, Dad, and Kayla went pale with terror, rushing to pull him back inside.

Once they made sure Dylan couldn't run off to jump again, Dad and Kayla turned toward me with dark expressions. They both kicked me, knocking me to the ground before I could get away.

Clutching my stomach, I coughed up blood. Kayla suddenly grabbed my throat.

"Nathan, you actually dared to follow me here and almost cost us Dylan again? I'm going to make sure you experience the terror he just felt!"

She and Dad dragged me up to the hospital roof and tied my hands, leaving me dangling over the edge. "This is just a small lesson. Next time you scare Dylan, it won't be from this height!"

Listening to their footsteps fade away, I felt like breaking down completely.

I was the one who'd been switched at birth and abused for 18 years. I was the one related to them by blood. But just because I didn't want to live under the same roof as my abuser's son, my own biological family had been deceiving and punishing me for years.

Now they'd left me hanging outside a rooftop, leaving me terrified I might fall.

I couldn't accept this. I couldn't accept having brain cancer. I couldn't accept dying under my own family's punishment.

I held onto the rope for dear life. But to my horror, the tumor's pressure was making my right hand go numb.

My left hand wasn't strong enough. When I struggled hard, the knots around my wrists slowly loosened, and I slipped down inch by inch.

Just when I thought I was going to fall completely, Amanda's panicked voice called out from above, "He's here! Quick, help me save him!"

I'd planned to be discharged, but because of this incident, I had to stay in the hospital again. It took five days before I could go home.

The moment I opened the front door, Kayla was there with her arms crossed, giving me a dark look.

She smirked. "Nathan, you've gotten bold. You dared to throw a tantrum and run away from home? Did you think anyone would come looking for you?

"But it's only five days, and you already came crawling back. And here I thought you actually had some guts."

I looked at her and said hoarsely, "My arm was injured from hanging too long. I've been in the hospital this whole time. That wouldn't be hard for someone like you to check if you cared."

Kayla stiffened, her expression softening. "I thought Dad would go back and cut you down. Whatever, let's not talk about that.

"You obviously know now that Mom and Dad aren't dead. All these years, we just wanted to teach you some sense so you would stop targeting Dylan.

"It's clear you still haven't learned your lesson, but you're still Mom and Dad's biological son and my real brother. Starting today, you can come live with us at the Bennett residence."

Before I could respond, she quickly added, "But when you get back, you'll need to apologize to Dylan first. Promise him you'll never mention sending him away again."

I refused flatly. "I won't try to make you send him away anymore, but apologizing? Not happening."

Kayla's face darkened immediately. I thought she'd punish me like before, but seeing my pale complexion, she just gripped my wrist and dragged me to the luxury car waiting outside.

The moment I was pulled into the Bennett residence, Dylan hid behind our parents, trembling as he cried. "Kayla, are you going to help Nathan kick me out now?"

Mom and Dad rushed to comfort him. "No, no. Your sister brought him back so he could apologize to you."

When they turned to look at me, both their eyes were cold. "Get over here and kneel down. Apologize to Dylan!"

Kayla also pulled me forward. "Hurry up. If you want to come back to the Bennett family, you have to apologize to Dylan."

I stood straight in front of Dylan, my voice flat. "You don't need to worry that my being here will make Mom, Dad, and Kayla send you away. After all, you're the only family member they actually care about."

Dylan looked at me, a flash of smugness and joy in his eyes. Dad still wasn't satisfied and kicked the back of my knee, forcing me down hard.

"I told you to kneel before apologizing. Are you trying to show you won't accept our discipline?

"What you just said wasn't even an apology. Do it again!"

I winced in pain as my knee quickly swelled up. "I didn't do anything wrong. If we're talking about who owes who, Dylan owes me more."

Dad's anger flared, and he raised his hand to slap me. Kayla caught it mid-air.

"That's enough, Dad. He's much more mature than he was eight years ago. He basically just promised he won't try to make Dylan leave again. That's good enough."

Dad snorted. "I think he still hasn't learned his lesson!"

Mom softened a bit and tried to calm him down. "Alright, enough. We've taught him well enough.

"Nathan, stop kneeling. Go to your room. The third door by the stairs on the first floor is yours."

I was led to my room, and one look at the decor told me this was normally used for household staff. Dylan came in carrying a pile of clothes, smiling as he set them on my bed.

"Mom, Dad, and Kayla are always buying me clothes. I can't even wear them all. So these old ones don't go to waste, I'm giving them to you."

I picked up the pile and threw it right back at him. "I don't need them."

The light clothes hit him, but he acted like someone had thrown a brick at him. He screamed and fell backward.

Kayla immediately rushed over at the sound, and seeing him on the floor, her face darkened. She helped him up and asked what had happened.

Dylan started crying. "Kayla, don't get the wrong idea. He just thought the clothes I gave him weren't nice enough. He wasn't trying to take his anger out on me."

Kayla's expression grew even uglier, and she forced out a sinister smile. "Nathan, seems like I've been too nice to you, making you think you have the right to bully Dylan."

She grabbed a mop and struck my right hand with the handle. "This is the hand you used to hurt Dylan, isn't it?"

Another blow came down as she finished speaking. I watched the swelling appear quickly on my arm, but felt no pain. I found myself thinking that losing feeling in this hand wasn't entirely a bad thing.

Kayla hit me 20 times in a row, beating my entire right arm until it turned purple and blue. Only then did she realize I hadn't cried out in pain once.

Her grip on the mop handle tightened unconsciously, her expression complicated.

"I really don't understand why you're always so stubborn when it comes to Dylan. I'll stop here this time, but if there's a next time, I won't go easy on you."

She left with Dylan. I applied a simple hot compress to my right hand. Unable to find any medicated ointment, I just went to sleep like that.

In the middle of the night, my forehead was burning hot. The fever woke me up from thirst.

Opening my eyes, I found Kayla sitting by my bed, applying some ointment to my arm. I watched her quietly for a while before speaking hoarsely.

"Kayla, can you grant me one last wish?"

She looked up in confusion. "What wish?"

"Let me leave the Bennett residence. I don't want to die in this place, and I don't want any of you at my funeral."

A vein bulged on her forehead, and she violently threw the ointment bottle at my face.

"Nathan, do you think copying Dylan's depression and suicide threats will steal the love that belongs to him?

"I'm telling you, he's the precious child we watched grow up. You'll never compare to him!"

She slammed the door behind her. I held my nose as blood poured out and stared at the door, whispering, "I know."