Three days before I was supposed to be discharged, I handled my own release from the hospital. When I stepped outside, no one was there to pick me up.

Everyone was busy at the wedding venue, rehearsing for the big day.

Brenda sent one photo after another of the sweet, happy moments, as if to make sure I didn't miss anything. With each one I saw, the pain in my heart dulled, slowly fading into numbness.

I took a cab home to start packing for my trip abroad. When I entered the password I hadn't changed in years, it said "Incorrect Password".

The password had originally been Ronald's birthday and mine. When Mom and Dad set it, they said it would make sure they'd never forget our birthdays. But over the years, even with that password, they forgot mine countless times. And now, they had changed it without telling me.

I tried again and again before finally giving up and calling Mom. She rejected the call twice before finally picking up.

It was loud on the other end, like they were eating. I heard Ronald teasing Alan about his eyes being practically glued to Brenda.

Mom's voice came through the line. "Don't you know we're eating? Can't whatever it is wait a minute?"

As I paid attention, I noticed more than impatience in her voice. There was a hint of guilt, probably because of Alan.

However, I kept that thought to myself and simply said, "The house password's been changed. I can't get in."

Mom paused, clearly caught off guard. "You're back from the hospital?"

After realizing she had asked a stupid question, she fell silent. Still, she didn't give me the password. "Go and stay at the Southville house for now."

Her refusal to answer immediately raised a red flag. "Did you touch my room?" I asked cautiously.

In a flash, Mom snapped, "What are you thinking? That little room of yours is empty. What could possibly be worth touching in that little room of yours? Enough! We still have to eat!"

The call ended. I stood at the front door for a long time, staring at the lock.

After entering Ronald's and Brenda's birthdays, the door finally opened. I couldn't tell what I was feeling.

Sad? Not quite.

Angry? Not really.

Mostly, it was the cold recognition that this was how things had always been.

As I stepped into the house I had lived in for over 20 years, I realized how much had changed.

The last time I got married, my parents and Ronald had been too lazy to bother with decorations. This time, the house was decked out in festive decorations; even the bathroom had crimson wedding ribbons. The family photo on the TV cabinet had been replaced with a four-person portrait I had never seen.

My chest tightened as I walked straight to my little corner room. When I opened the door, my bed was gone. The desk and cabinets were gone. The room was filled with all sorts of wedding supplies. No wonder Mom refused to give me the password.

There was nothing left of me in this house. And strangely, I found myself laughing. My cheeks tingled, and when the wind hit, I realized they were wet. I had been crying.

As if fate were against me, I ran into all five of them coming back from dinner. Mom, Dad, and Ronald were at the back, while Alan and Brenda strode in front, holding hands like a normal couple. When they saw me, they awkwardly let go.

"Anna, it's not what you think," Brenda said, feigning innocence, though her eyes betrayed how proud she was.

Alan stayed close to her, shielding her as though I might snap. "Anna, what Brenda said is true. We were just following the photographer's suggestion to spend some time together."

I looked at the man I had loved for seven years and let out a bitter laugh. "It's okay. I understand."

Mom, Dad, and Ronald rushed forward, scolding me all at once. "Anna, can't you behave? Look at yourself! If it weren't for you, Brenda would never be with Alan—"

"I know!" I interrupted firmly. "I know it's for my own good, and I'm grateful. Mom, wasn't I supposed to stay at the Southville house? My cab is nearly here."

Even after I left, the five of them stayed rooted in place, their faces blank, as if they couldn't understand why I suddenly seemed like a completely different person.

When I still cared about them, I had been nothing short of a hysterical lunatic.

I didn't understand why the accident that killed Brenda's parents—Uncle Jamie Stone and Aunt Daisy Jones—at my birthday party would be blamed on me. I couldn't grasp why my parents and Ronald acted as though taking care of me was a crime against Brenda after she moved in.

I didn't understand why Alan, who had promised to love only me his entire life, gradually began to feel something for Brenda. They all saw me as the villain who had hurt the innocent Brenda. Meanwhile, the innocent Brenda was spoiled, receiving everything I had ever wanted, and I had nothing.

As I watched them abandon me one by one in the raging fire, I realized there was no way I could ever compete with Brenda. I didn't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to lose myself again.

Over the next two days, I repurchased everything I planned to take with me. I bought skincare, clothes, and even a brand-new suitcase from the store.

I began to look forward to the new life I would start far from here.

Just before bedtime that night, a knock came at my door. When I looked up, Alan, my parents, and Ronald were there.

Seeing them, I felt a flicker of impatience. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

They froze at my icy tone. Alan stepped forward and explained, "Anna, Brenda said that even though she's attending the wedding in your place, she wants you to be there tomorrow."

I said, "Forget it. With how I look, there's no need for me to go."

Alan, Mom, Dad, and Ronald had assumed I would stubbornly insist on coming. They never imagined I would say no.

They froze, seeing me properly for the first time. Faint red marks marred my otherwise pale face, and my fingers on the doorknob were rough and scarred.

The girl I used to be, who wailed over the slightest scratch, was gone. Now, I looked detached, as if the wounds weren't even there.

For some reason, they felt unsettled.

For the first time, Mom asked, "Anna, are you still in pain?" Mom asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "No."

My light, almost dismissive words shut down everything they had wanted to say.

A flicker of pity appeared in Alan's eyes. Mom and Dad stared at my scars, and even Ronald, who always picked at me, looked down.

The silence was broken by the phone ringing. Brenda's cheerful voice came through. "Uncle John, Aunt Lydia, Ronald, you all have to convince Anna to come. I'm really worried she might misunderstand something. If she doesn't come, I won't feel at ease."

After all, Brenda had to feel at ease. The four, who had initially felt awkward at my refusal, instantly came up with a reason.

"Anna, you heard Brenda. You have to be there tomorrow," Alan said, gripping my wrist. "Brenda may be standing in for you, but you're the real star of the wedding."

Mom added, "Exactly. If you don't go, people might misunderstand."

As I listened to their attempts to persuade me, I couldn't help feeling a little impatient. I glanced at the time. It was already late. My flight was early in the morning, and I didn't want to waste any more time with them, so I nodded vaguely to appease them and sent them on their way.

The next morning, I got up early. While I was getting ready for my flight, I saw that Brenda had already posted her final-look photos on social media, complete with a shy emoji.

I gave it a quick like, and immediately after, Alan's message popped up. "Anna, when will you get here? Brenda picked out a dress for you. Don't be late. She went out of her way for you."

He only saw Brenda's thoughtfulness. He completely forgot about the scars on my body that made wearing a dress impossible.

I replied, "Let's break up."

Without a second thought, I blocked him and the entire Samson family, then turned toward the boarding gate without looking back.