Six years after my younger brother and my fiancée passed away, I picked out a grave for myself.

Before my final visit to their graves, my mother suddenly said, “Miles, you don’t have to go this year. The truth is that they never died.”

I was startled for a moment before the two of them walked right out of my brother’s room.

My brother, Sean, put on a teasing smile as he draped an arm around the woman beside him.

“I won the bet! I told you my brother would never figure it out.

“Who’s going to be on top tonight, huh, Vera?”

My so-called late fiancée, who used to cry whenever she saw me suffer even the slightest grievance, looked at me with open disdain.

“He’s just too stupid. We’ve been living next door this entire time, yet he never noticed.”

It was only then that I realized my mother forbad me from entering Sean's room, not because it would make her grieve her son again, but because it was directly connected to the house next door.

I was truly too foolish. Right up until a month before my death, I was still thinking about visiting their graves.

“Why did you do this?”

I suppressed the trembling in my body and asked Vera with red-rimmed eyes.

After so many years, she was no longer gentle and sweet. Her gaze was cold and detached.

“Miles, it’s because you’ve never been very sensible.”

What exactly did it mean to be sensible?

My mother frowned at me as well.

“For all these years, we were just trying to teach you how to behave, to stop always trying to compete with your brother.

“Miles, they already have a child. Let go. You’ll meet someone better.”

That would never happen.

I pressed my lips together. My heart was aching as though it were being torn apart.

“I never took anything from Sean.” I choked out the last few words.

When I was a child, my parents always remembered what Sean liked. I was forced to like the same things as him so they would spare me a little attention.

I had to become like him just to earn the smallest bit of their care.

I never thought that just saying, ‘I want that too,’ would be seen as stealing in their eyes.

When we were teenagers, I was four inches taller than my younger brother.

Still, my mother only bought clothes for us in his size. No matter how many times I reminded her, she never remembered.

My sleeves and pant legs were always a couple of inches too short.

I was mocked for years because of that.

I should have realized it earlier. ‘Miles, they never loved you.’

Perhaps my expression was too pathetic.

The coldness Vera had built around herself wavered for a moment. She handed me a tissue.

“Miles, just focus on the future.”

I did not take it. Sean put on a guilty act beside her.

“Miles, I’m sorry. Vera and I haven’t registered our marriage yet. I’ll give her back to you.”

Suddenly, my mother raised her hand and slapped me.

Hot pain flared across my face.

I looked at her in disbelief. Her hand was still trembling, but her voice was cold.

“Miles, what are you even doing?! Vera is already pregnant. Do you want that child to be born a disgrace like you?”

I froze, and my heart stopped for a moment.

I was the child my mother had before marriage.

To her, I represented the shame of being pregnant out of wedlock.

To my father, I was the tool used to force him into marriage with my mother.

I had always known that. That was why I studied hard, never caused trouble, and tried to be perfect since I was young.

I thought if I did better, they might love me a little more.

It was only now that I understood nothing I did truly mattered.

Their wish was for me not to exist.

Well, it was about to come true.

Vera stepped closer. Her eyes carried a trace of pity, and she let out a soft sigh.

“Miles, we can still be friends. Sean and I will take good care of you.”

I jerked back a step, pulling away from her reach.

“Don’t touch me.”

My voice was hoarse and dry.

Six years.

For six whole years, I had never stopped feeling guilty for even a single day.

Every year on All Souls' Day and their death anniversary, I went to their graves again and again, apologizing and regretting what I did.

I always thought that if it were not for me and not for that surprise they were preparing, they would not have died.

However, it had all been a lie.

Even my parents had helped them deceive me, all for the sake of Sean’s happiness.

I looked at my mother and asked slowly, already knowing the answer, “The room you said I wasn’t allowed to enter because it would be too painful for you is actually connected directly to the house next door, isn’t it?”

My mother’s expression changed slightly. Her eyes flickered away, but she still nodded stiffly.

“So what if it is? We were doing this for you, so you could let go completely and live your life properly.”

“Live my life properly?”

I let out a cold laugh, though my voice was full of sorrow.

“You watched me go to their graves every year like an idiot. You watched me live in guilt and longing, while they were right next door, living happily together. Is that what you call doing something for me?”

“Miles, watch your words!”

My father finally came out of the study, his brows tightly furrowed, clearly impatient.

“They were in love. They only faked their deaths so you wouldn’t be hurt. They’ve already suffered enough over the years. What else do you want?”

In love?

They suffered?

Those two phrases pierced straight through my chest.

At that moment, a notification popped up on my phone. My cemetery reservation had been confirmed.

I took off the ring I had recovered years ago from a rescue operation and placed it on the table. Then, I said in a calm voice, “I’m done here.”

The next day, I received a package from the cemetery center. It was a biometric vitals-monitoring bracelet.

They told me the device would automatically send out my location within two hours of death, and someone would come to collect my body.

How thoughtful.

I suddenly thought back to that day six years ago.

It was my engagement banquet with Vera.

She said she had prepared a surprise for me.

I waited at the venue, nervous yet excited.

It was only as the sun began to set that I received a call from an unknown number.

They said the car Sean and Vera were in had plunged off a cliff. It was a total wreck, and there were no survivors. The only thing they managed to recover was a ring engraved with ‘MG’.

I collapsed on the spot. My world shattered before me.

My mother cried herself into a hysteria, screaming at me.

“It’s all your fault! You killed them. They died because they were preparing a surprise for you!”

Even the guests pointed at me and whispered.

The rain that day was so heavy that it seemed to soak through my entire being.

Now, they were telling me all of that grief and all those tears had just been a performance staged for me alone.

No wonder the family still cooked all of Sean’s favorite spicy dishes even though he was supposedly gone.

No wonder my mother never once went to visit his grave all these years.

…

It did not matter anymore.

Every last cent I had left was paid to the cemetery center.

I could only stay there and finish my final painting before I left.

I was not afraid of death at all anymore. In fact, I felt relieved.

The next morning, I was preparing to go out when Sean stopped me.

“Miles, Vera and I both want you to make a bowl of pasta for us. You’ve always been good at taking care of people since you were young.”

He held Vera in his arms. His eyes were full of provocation.

He was completely different from yesterday.

Vera leaned into him and looked at me.

“Sean wants it. Just make it. I’m pregnant, so it’s inconvenient for me to cook.”

My mother nodded as well. Her tone was as though this were the most natural request in the world.

“Go on. Make it soft and well-cooked. Don’t add too much sugar to the sauce. Sean doesn’t like sweet food. You’ve always been good at taking care of people. Something this small shouldn’t be hard for you.”

I stood there, not moving.

Sean looked a little awkward, then said helplessly, “Are you still mad at me, Miles? I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have been with Vera, but I really love her. If you don’t want to make it, I don’t want to eat it either. Don’t force yourself.”

He let out a soft sigh, acting like he was the one who was wronged.

Vera’s expression immediately darkened as she looked at me.

“Miles, it’s just a bowl of pasta. Do you really need to act like this? Sean is younger than you. Can’t you just let him be?”

My father put down his newspaper and frowned.

“Just do what you’re told. Why are you dragging your feet? We’re a family. Why make such a big deal out of everything?”

Family?

That word was unbearably sharp.

I slowly lifted my eyes and scanned the four familiar yet unfamiliar faces in front of me.

It felt like they were part of a movie I did not belong in.

I was an outsider.

“Fine. I’ll make it.”

I turned around and walked into the kitchen.

I treated that bowl of pasta as repayment for my parents raising me for all these years.

Halfway through the meal, Sean suddenly rushed into the bathroom and vomited violently.

I froze for a moment.

Everyone gathered around him.

He said in a weak voice, “It’s nothing. Miles has nothing to do with this. It’s probably just my weak stomach.”

However, the more he said that, the more everyone believed it was my fault.

Vera frowned at me. Her voice was full of disappointment.

“Miles, you weren’t like this before.

“How did you become so cruel? You can’t even tolerate your own brother now?”

I looked down at the burns forming on my hand. However, the pain was sharper in my heart than on my skin.

My father trembled with anger. “Lock him up! Put him in the storage room so he can reflect on himself. How did the Garrett family end up raising someone like this?”

My mother did not object. She just turned away and heaved a sigh. “You should really think about what you did. Stop being so stubborn.”

Vera hesitated for a moment, but she still helped my father shove me into the utility room.

The door locked with a loud bang.

No one wanted to hear my explanation.

The cramped, dark space was suffocating and hot.

I had no water or food for a full day and night.

My old illness completely flared up. My chest twisted in pain. It was so intense that I could not stop myself from rolling on the floor.

Cold sweat soaked through my clothes, and my consciousness grew hazy.

With my last bit of strength, I hit the door again and again.

“Open the door… It hurts…

“Vera… Mom… I need my medicine…”

My voice was so weak it was almost inaudible, but I still kept pounding on the door with everything I had.

I kept going until my palms were swollen, split, and streaked with blood.

I could not die yet. My paintings still had not been sent to the exhibition.

My life might have been colorless and bleak, but my work had to be hung up in a clean frame.

I did not know how long I kept hitting the door before it finally opened.

Vera stood at the entrance with a tight expression. When she saw me curled up on the floor, a flicker of panic crossed her eyes.

She quickly crouched down and touched my forehead. The heat made her pull her hand back instantly.

“You have a fever? How did it get this bad?!”

“Medicine… under my pillow…” I could barely string my words.

Vera immediately got up, rushed to my room, and found the medicine box. She poured me a glass of warm water and came back.

She carefully helped me sit up. Her movements were gentle, as though she was afraid of hurting me.

“Take this. You’ll feel better after you take it.”

The moment I swallowed the pills, Sean walked in. His face was pale white.

He looked at me and spoke in a low voice.

“Miles, why are you lying to everyone?

“I just checked your room. What you’re taking isn’t medicine. It’s just vitamins.

“You’re obviously pretending to be sick just to make everyone worry. How could you do that?”

Those words were like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing any sympathy Vera had just started to feel for me.

She shoved me away, her voice filled with anger.

“Miles, you’re really losing your mind. What line won’t you cross at this point?”

My mother’s expression changed instantly. Her tone was full of disappointment.

“So it was all an act just because we made you reflect on yourself? I should’ve aborted you back then!”

My father shook his head in fury. “Hopeless. Completely hopeless!”

I shook my head desperately as my eyes turned red.

“No! I didn’t… I really didn’t…”

“Enough!” Vera cut me off. Her voice was hoarse and exhausted.

“I don’t want to hear your explanations anymore.

“Miles, I’m really disappointed in you.”

After that, none of them spoke to me again.

One day, right after I submitted my painting to the exhibition, I received a message from the cemetery center.

[Mr. Garrett, your vitals-monitoring device has recently detected unusually unstable signals. Please take care of yourself.]

I replied.

[Okay.]

I never thought that the only people who cared about me would be the people waiting to take my body away.