When the fire broke out, I called my husband, Hector. He didn't answer. Instead, he ran straight into the flames—to save my sister, Emma. They held each other, clinging to life, while I was trapped in the basement, watching my calls go ignored until all hope burned out.

Afterward, Emma played innocent, twisting everything. She told him, "Hector, don't blame Sienna. She didn't leave me on purpose... she was just scared." Her lie made me the villain, and everyone bought it.

Fueled by hatred, Hector spat, "She's so vicious—why didn't that fire just take her?"

Three months later, the police found my body.

When Hector Chatwin carried Emma Jent to the car, I was already dead.

And he believed every lie she'd fed him. He wouldn't even pick up my calls.

Back in that basement, Emma flicked a lighter and threw it on me, but I was too flabby to move.

"Sienna Jent, you think you can compete with me?" Her sneer cut through the dark. "I'm prettier. I've got the background. You're not even in my league. So why should you get a man like him?" Her voice dripped with venom. "If I hadn't turned him down, you think he'd even look at you?"

She was right. Years ago, she'd brushed him off—he was broke, struggling. So our family offered me up instead to marry him.

Now she wanted him back, even if it meant killing me.

She'd made sure no one would find me down here and sealed every exit. Then, in order to complete her performance, she burned her own arm.

And Hector? He was out of his mind with worry.

"Emma, don't be afraid. I'm here with you, like always." He glared into the shadows, his face twisted with fury. "I can't believe how cruel Sienna's been to you. She wanted you dead!"

Emma raised her tear-streaked face, eyes glistening. "No, don't blame Sienna. I'm sure... she's just scared."

"Why are you even defending her? She knew you were injured, that you couldn't leave on your own, and she still walked away. She's not fit to be your sister! A woman like that... if she dies in a fire, it's exactly what she deserves!"

I was hovering above them in spirit form. Each word cut through me.

Seven years of love—nothing but a lie.

The man I'd loved with everything now hated me, all because of Emma. And it wasn't the first time.

Years ago, she'd broken her leg right before a dance competition. She'd faced Hector, tearful, saying, "Don't be angry at Sienna. She didn't mean it. I forgot today was her birthday and still made everyone come watch my performance. I understand if she's upset."

She'd smiled, forgiving me so gracefully. But I knew the truth—she'd tried to push me. I'd barely dodged.

Hector's face had turned red with rage, and he slapped me. His first time, and he'd hit me hard.

"You knew Emma had an important competition, and you made her fall and break her leg! What were you thinking, Sienna? Just because your world is dark, does that mean you want to drag everyone else down too?"

His words stung more than the slap.

Everyone knew my world was dark.

I was blind in one eye.

Unlike Emma—vibrant, radiant, a star dancer. She was everything I wasn't.

And me? I was the girl with a blind and dull right eye.

People flinched when they looked into it.

There was no security camera in that corner, so I took the blame.

Even my own mother looked at me with disgust. "Sienna, she's your sister. How could you hate her so much?"

How could I ever hate Emma?

I just didn't get it. Why, when we were both our mother's daughters, was I the one she didn't love?

I didn't understand until I turned eighteen. She'd wanted a son, and my birth had been her last try. But when I came out a girl, her disappointment ran so deep, she let it turn to resentment.

From then on, my life was nothing but neglect and hurt. All because I wasn't the child she wanted. In her eyes, I'd ruined everything.

Emma got everything. I wore her hand-me-downs, used her leftovers. My allowance was half of hers, even in school.

I thought for years I just wasn't good enough. Then I came in first on a major exam.

That night, she burned my award certificate. "Are you trying to make Emma feel bad? Flaunting your grades when she didn't do well? How could I have raised such a selfish child?"

Emma had bombed that test, yet I was the one being punished.

It wasn't that I wasn't good enough—I'd never been the daughter my mother wanted.

And Emma? She just smirked. "Mom loves me best, no matter what you do."

Kids learn from what they see. Mom didn't like me, and Emma took it to heart.

She tormented me in secret. Even with every advantage, she still failed her college entrance exams. But I got accepted early to a top university because of a national science competition.

For the first time, I thought I could have a future. But just as I was about to move forward, Emma shoved me back.

She blinded me with a laser pointer.

"You really think you can compete with me? Just because you got accepted? That spot should've been mine," she said, laughing as I screamed, unable to stop the searing pain.

In the end, I lost sight in my right eye.

But my mother defended Emma. "Emma was just joking, and you're blowing it up? You're not totally blind—you can still go to college, can't you? What's there to fuss about? If you call the police, let them take me away."

The result? Emma was sent abroad to study, and the loss of my eye became just another "small issue."

I finally accepted my mother would never love me.

Even on the day I died, her last message was still on my phone: [If you have any decency, divorce Hector and let Emma have him.]

I stared at it, choking on smoke, my breath slipping away in that dark basement.

Three days after I went missing, Hector still hadn't looked for me. His whole world was Emma, glued to her side.

Emma had said she'd take back everything that was "hers."

But I had never touched anything of hers. She was the one who'd discarded Hector.

Once, she'd laughed, "Who'd have thought he'd become a billionaire? He was always meant to be mine; I'm only taking back what's mine."

I thought it was ridiculous and ignored her. But before I knew it, Hector started pulling away.

He hated when I touched his phone, wouldn't let me ask about his plans.

"Sienna, I told you I was on a business trip. Do you have to be so paranoid?"

I'd tried to believe Hector's excuses. But Emma's little provocations finally broke me.

She posted a hotel check-in on social media. In the photo, they looked close—too close. I could see the mole on his shoulder. It was Hector. My husband.

"That night, I had too much to drink with a client," he shrugged. "Emma just helped me to my room. She's your sister—why do you treat her like an enemy? We're family. Why are you so cold and heartless?"

After that, he only got closer to her, choosing her over me every time.

Even on my birthday, he glanced at his phone and left me alone.

Maybe I should've ignored it. But I couldn't.

When I finally confronted him, I'd rehearsed a dozen explanations. But the truth was uglier than I'd expected.

"Sienna, don't you care that Emma's sick? She's family. How can you be so cold and selfish? There's nothing going on with us, so why all the drama?"

Emma played the perfect victim, stepping in with a sigh. "Please, don't fight... It's my fault. Hector, you should go home. I'll be fine on my own..."

We stood there, stiff with tension, eyes locked everywhere but on each other, and her lips curled into a slight, triumphant smile.

After that, Hector barely came home. He was too busy with "business trips," meetings, and chauffeuring Emma to her endless outings.

They did everything together, and he kept insisting it was just him "being a supportive family member."

My anxiety spiraled, keeping me up at night—until I found out I was pregnant.

The news sparked a glimmer of hope. I grabbed the report, ready to surprise him.

But then the accident happened.

I lay there, blood pooling beneath me. I desperately called Hector.

He picked up, sounding irritated.

Then I heard Emma's voice in the background. "Hector, who is it? Come here and help me with this dress, would you?"

I froze, barely processing it.

He muffled the phone and snapped, "I'm busy. What is it?"

"Hector, I... I was in an accident. I lost the baby..."

"Sienna, are you serious? Is this some kind of game? Grow up. Haven't you caused enough trouble?"

My heart went cold.

The baby was gone.

When he finally arrived at the hospital, his eyes held only reproach. "If you knew you were pregnant, why were you running around like that? Emma was so worried she sprained her ankle. Can you stop being such a burden on us?"

He barely looked at me before rushing off to tend to Emma's ankle.

In that moment, everything became painfully clear: love and indifference couldn't have been more obvious.

I let out a bitter laugh, tears spilling over, draining the last warmth from my heart.

After all my desperate struggles, I sank into darkness.

How foolish, to believe—even before I died—that he loved me.

And even after my death, my soul drifted, unable to let go, watching helplessly as Emma destroyed my name.

"Hector, don't look for Sienna," she murmured tearfully. "I don't want her facing the law. She's my little sister, after all. Even if she tried to burn me alive, I can't bear to see her in jail."