Just then, my best friend, Michelle Sullivan, texted me.

"I got the footage from the rescue helicopter. It clearly shows your sister was faking her dizziness. Plus, her hospital records show she's perfectly fine."

The video and files came through a few minutes later. Seeing Emma sticking out her tongue in the video and reading her clean bill of health, I smiled.

I replied to Michelle, "Send this to my family after I'm dead."

Two days before I died, I donated a kidney to Emma and a cornea to Daria.

When I woke up after surgery, I saw my sister in a hospital gown, half-reclining on the bed. My parents and Leon were gathered around her while she cooed about wanting food from that fancy downtown restaurant.

The scene looked warm and perfect, like a family portrait. And there I was, someone who didn't belong.

The moment Emma noticed I was awake, a flash of triumph and defiance lit her eyes. She said sweetly, "Sarah, thank you for the assets. I'll make good use of them."

Leon took out the remaining documents along with the bank cards and placed them on her bedside table. "She also gave you the house and savings."

As soon as he said that, the room went completely silent.

Dad was the first to react. He hurried over and patted my shoulder, excitement and relief written all over his face. "Now you're finally acting like a big sister and looking out for Emi."

Mom tearfully took Emma's hand. "This is wonderful. Now you and Leon can live a good life together."

Leon pulled Emma closer, gazing at her lovingly. "See? Your sister really does care about you."

At that moment, the whole family busied themselves planning Emma and Leon's future. Everyone wore bright smiles that gleamed with happiness.

No one noticed me quietly covering my mouth, or the bright red streak I coughed into my palm when I turned away.

One day.

That was all I had left. I'd given them everything on my second-to-last day alive, and still nobody loved me.

A violent cough made me unsteady. When a metallic taste filled my mouth, I hurriedly covered it with tissues, praying they wouldn't notice.

"Stop coughing so loud. You're bothering Emi while she's trying to rest," Mom said with a frown, clearly annoyed.

I crumpled the tissue into a ball and clutched it tightly in my palm. Then I looked up and asked them softly, "If I died because of this mountain trip, would any of you regret it?"

This was the last sliver of hope I had left—for them and for myself.

Silence hung for a heartbeat, then the room exploded with laughter. They all laughed like I'd just said something hilarious.

Dad laughed the loudest, pointing at me and shaking his head. "You? Die? You're the healthiest person I know. You've never caught a cold in your whole life. Stop talking nonsense."

Leon laughed too, pulling Emma closer and speaking gently. "Quit being so dramatic, Sarah. Emma's health is what we should be worried about."

"That's right, Sarah," Emma said softly, leaning into him. "Please don't say things like that. It frightens me."

I nodded. The last flicker of hope inside me died completely. I stopped looking at them and turned to Daria, who was curled up against Leon's side.

"Daria, could you call me Mom, just once?" I asked.

All these years, I'd put my climbing career first and barely spent time with her. She'd resented me for it ever since and had never called me Mom, not even after I donated my cornea to her.

She ignored me and threw herself into Emma's arms like an excited puppy, then wrapped her arms around Emma's neck.

"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" she squealed. "You're my mommy, not her."

Then, Daria looked back at me with an innocent yet merciless smile. "Bye-bye, Aunt Sarah. Stop bothering Mommy while she's trying to rest."

Leon and my parents beamed as they watched the whole scene unfold.

Dad let out a sigh and said, "You see, even Daria knows who truly cares for her."

Mom nodded in agreement.

"Now our family is finally whole again," she said.

Yes, the five of them were a family. I watched their joyful reunion and quietly turned around. I opened the hospital room door and walked out.

Behind me, I could hear their joyful laughter. I slowly closed the door, shutting that world away from me forever.

On my last day alive, I didn't want them to see my miserable state. So I traveled to Avondale, the place where I'd made my first solo climb. I no longer had the strength to go up the mountain, so I found a small lodge at the base and checked in.

In my final moments before losing consciousness, Michelle found me. She rushed me to the hospital for emergency treatment, her voice thick with tears.

I never expected she would be the one to grieve for me at the end. With what little strength I had left, I looked at her and pointed toward the backpack beside my bed.

After a moment's pause, Michelle caught on, and pulled a sealed manila envelope from the bag. It held legal documents and evidence.

Before my kidney was removed, I had secretly installed a pinhole camera in the operating room.

The footage showed that Emma had never received a kidney transplant at all. Instead, she had conspired with the doctor to sell my kidney.

Michelle read the documents and trembled. Then she folded them to her chest and said, "I understand, Sarah. Don't worry. Leave everything to me. I'll make sure the people who hurt you get what they deserve."

When I saw her nod, I felt a sense of relief.

I had only nine minutes left to live. My consciousness began to slip away, and my vision became blurry.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was a message from Emma.

"Sarah, tomorrow is our birthday. Let's celebrate together. I want to thank you for giving me everything."

She added a playful smiley emoji at the end.

I read the message and let out a bitter laugh. Her amnesia act was so pathetic, yet our entire family bought it.

When I collapsed from my illness, none of them believed I was truly sick. It had always been this way since childhood. Everyone always favored her and fell for her act.

Whenever I came in first place, she would mysteriously fall sick. Whenever I won medals in competitions, she would have an "accident" and get hurt. Eventually, all my successes became crimes against her.

My parents had always told me to give in to her, while Leon told me to spoil her. They all thought that as the "strong one", it was my duty to sacrifice everything for poor, fragile Emma.

And I'd done so my whole life.

I'd lost completely.

Just then, my phone lit up again. But this time, it was a message from Mom.

"Sarah, tomorrow is your birthday with Emma. Come home early."

My eyelids grew heavier.

I knew Michelle was sobbing beside me, but they were a distant, muffled sound now.

After so many years of exhaustion, finally I could rest.

On March 15, I died at Avondale Hospital at age 31. When news of my death and all the evidence were being forwarded to my family, they were in the midst of preparing a birthday cake.