I knew I wouldn't lose, because according to the timeline, the next memory was about something else entirely.

After Toby passed, I shouldered the burden of supporting the family alone. However, Rodney was only five years old, and on most days, I had to rely on the neighbors and Hannah to watch him when they could.

I knew Hannah was resentful, so I did everything I could to give her whatever she wanted. If she found Rodney annoying, I would rather send him off to the countryside than let her be bothered by him.

One day, Hannah was in a good mood and offered to watch Rodney for a couple of days.

I happily brought back strawberries and mangoes. Since Hannah loved strawberries and Rodney loved mangoes, I was sure they'd be thrilled when they saw them.

But when I gave Hannah the washed strawberries and handed Rodney the cut mango, Hannah exploded.

"Mom, you're playing favorites! Why does Rodney get mangoes? You've never bought me a mango my whole life!"

As the footage reached this point, Hannah glared at me with fury from the plaintiff's stand.

"You've always favored Rodney. You've never once cut up a mango for me."

She stared at me with pure hatred.

The comments all blasted me for favoring Rodney. No one was surprised that my true colors were showing once Toby was gone.

However, I looked at Hannah with bewilderment. "Hannah, don't you know you're allergic to mango? I gave you some when you were a child, and you passed out and ended up in the hospital. That scared the life out of me."

The comment section erupted in disbelief.

"Holy crap, I thought this was going to be some classic favoritism sob story. Turns out, Hannah is just allergic to mangoes."

"Hannah really knows how to hold a grudge. She carried it all these years, yet the whole time, she was just allergic to mangoes."

"I don't know why, but I'm starting to side with Sandra now. Hannah seems really self-centered, like she's been living in her own little world."

The viewers kept debating as the footage continued to play.

After the mango incident, Hannah grew to despise Rodney more and more.

Whenever it was her turn to watch him, Rodney would always end up covered in bruises. All of them were from Hannah pinching him.

"You stole my mom from me, you little bastard!" Hannah cursed viciously.

After I found out about it, it broke my heart. But I didn't dare to scold Hannah. Instead, all I could do was try to keep the two of them apart.

But while I was at work one day, Hannah and Rodney were home alone, and a segment about weed killers happened to be playing on TV.

Hannah took a bottle of weed killer out of the cabinet, her eyes gleaming with malice.

"Rodney, do you think I'd be happier if you were dead?"

She then poured the weed killer straight into Rodney's milk.

The comment section exploded in shock.

"What is she doing? Don't tell me she's actually trying to kill her younger brother?"

"Holy crap! And here I thought Hannah was some sweet little angel. How could she be so vicious?"

"I can't believe she's trying to murder Rodney. Forget taking Sandra to court—she should be thanking her lucky stars no one's taken her to court."

Even though the viewers were horrified, there was no altering the memory that was playing out.

Hannah still poured the weed killer into Rodney's milk and brought it over to him.

"Here, Rodney. Have some milk."

No one watching could believe that Hannah, who seemed so delicate, would actually try to kill her own brother.

The memory continued to the moment I came home, just as Hannah was about to feed Rodney the milk.

"Hannah, what's that you're giving Rodney?"