They say when you die, that's it. Nothingness.

They're wrong.

I was floating near the ceiling, looking down at my own body, small and pathetic in its congealed pool of blood. A sad, forgotten doll.

My vision swirled, and I was suddenly pulled away, my spirit yanked across town to a sterile hospital room.

Elara's hand was freshly bandaged. She sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed. Liam, after a failed call to my phone, scowled at the screen.

My mother stood nearby. "The child still isn't answering?"

Liam grunted in affirmation, a flicker of unease crossing his face. Mom waved a dismissive hand. "She pulled this running-away stunt when she was fourteen. So dramatic. She has no consideration for everything we're dealing with, especially with Elara."

Liam's expression hardened, and he put his phone away. I watched, the ghost of a sob catching in my non-existent throat. I'll never answer your calls again, Liam. Will you care?

Elara's voice, calm and flat, broke the silence. "When are you sending her away?"

Liam flinched. "Elara, darling..."

"Don't 'darling' me!" she shrieked, her composure shattering. "I said send her away! I don't want to see her!"

Both Mom and Liam jumped to soothe her. "Okay! Okay, I'll make the arrangements. I'll send her to the boarding school in Switzerland. Today!"

"Don't get worked up, your hand..."

Elara breathed heavily, her eyes wide and frantic. I finally understood. She saw me as competition. For Liam's attention, for our parents' love. In this house, only she could be the princess.

I thought, my spirit numb. You got your wish. I'm gone. Are you happy?

The doctor entered, his face grim. "Her immune system is weakening. The Siren's Affliction will progress faster. You must be more vigilant. Remove all hard surfaces from your home."

Liam's eyes grew wet. "I understand." The doctor's words only solidified his decision. The moment the door closed, he called his assistant. "Get Isla enrolled at the Institut Alpin in Switzerland. Money is no object. Handle her transfer and enrollment immediately."

He turned to a dazed Elara and pulled her into a gentle hug. "It's alright, my little siren. She'll be gone. You'll never have to see her again."

Elara looked up, a strange emptiness in her gaze. "Good."

A deep, cold sorrow filled me. You won, Elara. No one will ever steal your spotlight again.

That night, our parents stayed at the house. Liam slept fitfully on a cot next to Elara's bed.

I tried to float away, to my body, to anywhere, but an invisible tether yanked me back whenever I went more than ten meters from them. Was I bound to Liam? Or to her?

Liam, unable to sleep, stared at his phone. The screen glowed in the dark room. He opened our chat history.

«Isla, your sister's condition is deteriorating. I'm sending you to Switzerland. Pack your things. My assistant, Mark, will pick you up in the morning.»

«Please be mature about this.»

Be mature. The phrase that had defined my entire life.

Five minutes passed with no reply from a girl who would never reply again. He sighed in frustration, the worry lines on his forehead deepening. He called Mark.

"Mark, I need you to go to the house and---"

Before he could finish, Elara bolted upright in bed, her eyes wide with terror. "Isla!"

Liam jerked, instinctively hanging up. "Shhh, it's alright. Isla's gone."

Mark, on the other end, shrugged, assuming it was a misdial.

Elara gripped Liam's arm, her bandaged hand trembling. "Don't let her come back. Never."

"I won't. She will never set foot in this city again," he vowed.

I bowed my head. He always believed her. Unconditionally.

When I was seven, she said the pointed corner of the paper crown from my birthday party scratched her. I was never allowed a birthday party again.

When I was fifteen, I came home from my first and only salon visit with a simple manicure. She said I tried to claw her with my polished nails. Liam held my hands still while Elara herself, a cruel smile on her face, scraped every last bit of polish off with a metal file, leaving my nail beds raw and bleeding.

The memories were a relentless, painful tide.

The next morning, Liam returned from getting Elara's medication. His phone rang. Mark.

"Did you get her? Just take her straight to the airport, I---"

"Mr. Vance!" Mark's voice was trembling, laced with pure panic. Liam's grip on the phone tightened. "Sir... you need to come home. Now."

"What is it?" Liam's voice was sharp.

Mark's next words came out in a choked sob. "It's... it's Isla, sir. She's... she's dead. In the house."

Liam's face went blank. The world seemed to stop spinning. "What... did you say?"