This time, the extracted memories came in fragments.

But every single one made people's blood boil.

One weekend, my mother took us on a family trip. We had just gotten onto the highway when I threw up all over the car.

On one of the rare birthdays Ophelia got to celebrate, I threw up all over her cake in front of everyone.

She was ostracized by her entire class and fell into such deep depression that she tried to take her own life. Before she did, she left all the allowance she had saved for me.

"Gabriel, I know you didn't mean it. But I'm so tired… They all call me the puke girl…"

My mother stared at the screen, her eyes red. "If I hadn't found her in time…"

Ophelia tugged at her sleeve, the scars on her wrist barely hidden.

The comments were filled with sympathy.

[Why does someone as kind as Ophelia have to deal with a brother like Gabriel?]

[She's only twelve and has to clean up after him every day. That's brutal.]

[Gabriel, get lost. I'll be Ophelia's brother instead!]

[I'm actually crying. If it's this hard just watching, I can't imagine what they've gone through all these years.]

But a few people started noticing something off.

[Look closely. Whenever Ophelia's asleep, Gabriel is completely normal. He never throws up.]

[And every time he laughs after throwing up, there are tears in his eyes.]

[Maybe he doesn't want this, either…]

Hope flickered in my chest. Someone was finally getting close to the truth.

But it didn't last.

[He's obviously doing it just to annoy people. If Ophelia's asleep, there's no point in him putting on a show.]

[And haven't you heard of crocodile tears? Laughing while crying? That's exactly what someone born bad would do.]

The memory cut off.

The arguments started up again.

After a long while, the judge spoke, cold and final.

"After deliberation, the panel upholds the original verdict. Gabriel is still deemed inherently dangerous."

The truth was so close. I refused to stop there. I demanded a third extraction.

The judge shut me down immediately.

"Each extraction costs 20 thousand dollars. We don't have the budget to keep indulging this."

Ophelia wiped at tears that weren't even there.

"Gabriel, stop this. I can't stand watching you suffer anymore…"

The fake concern on her face made something inside me snap. I wanted to tear her apart.

The judge was about to finalize the sentence when I suddenly pulled out a savings book. It was the money my father had secretly left me before he died.

Exactly 20 thousand dollars. Enough for one more extraction.

The comments exploded.

[Why didn't the dad leave that money to his daughter? He must've favored sons. No wonder he's gone.]

[He's only seven, and he managed to hide 20 grand? That's some seriously deep scheming.]

Ophelia suddenly lost her composure.

"No!"

The entire room fell silent.

She cleared her throat, forcing herself to recover.

"I mean… Gabriel's always been weak. He won't survive a third extraction. I've been with him every day since we were kids. You can extract my memories instead. Your Honor, I'm willing to take his place."

Almost everyone was moved to tears.

With the judge's approval, Ophelia walked toward the extraction machine without hesitation.

The needles went in. Her scream tore through the room.

My mother turned away, eyes red, unable to watch.

A few minutes later, her memory appeared on the screen.

My eyes widened.

No! That wasn't how it happened.

Her memories flowed clearly, one after another.

When I was born, she was overjoyed.

When I got sick, she took care of me tirelessly.

Again and again, I deliberately threw up into her backpack, and every time, she patiently tried to reason with me.

I ignored her. Worse, I laughed and sank my teeth into her arm, biting until it was torn and bleeding.

When she tried to eat, I grabbed her plate and threw up into it.

When she did laundry, I threw up into the washing machine.

The crowd erupted, cursing me, saying I didn't deserve to live.

But I just stood there, lost.

I had no memory of any of this.

I never did any of it.

I couldn't speak. I couldn't write. All I could do was shake my head over and over.

Even my mother hesitated.

"Ophelia, why don't I remember any of this?"

Ophelia lowered her gaze, looking hurt.

"You work so hard every day, Mom. When you weren't home, I always cleaned everything up right away after Gabriel got sick. I didn't want you to get mad at him, so I never told you."

My mother pulled her into a tight hug, her eyes full of pain.

The comments flooded in again.

[Poor Ophelia. She's only five years older than him, and she's had to carry all this.]

[She's such a good kid. Getting stuck with a brother like Gabriel is just awful.]

[I was thinking about having another kid. Not anymore.]

[What's left to discuss? Just sentence him already.]

After deliberation, the panel reached a unanimous decision: my actions were too extreme. I was beyond saving.

I was sentenced to be erased.

Every vote passed. Ophelia's hand was the highest in the air, and she shot me a mocking smile.

"If you had just admitted it earlier, you could've rotted away in prison at least. But no, you had to go and pull out your memories. Guess you dug your own grave. Don't be scared. I'll visit your grave every year."

They tied me up and hoisted me above the grinder. The blades spun wildly beneath me.

As the crowd shouted, I slowly began to descend.

The soles of my shoes were shredded instantly.

I struggled, but the more I fought, the faster I dropped.

Just as my legs were about to be torn apart, the operator of the extraction machine suddenly shouted, "Your Honor! I found something that doesn't make sense."

She rushed forward, holding a blood-soaked mass of flesh.

Ophelia took one look at it and froze, panic flashing across her face.