I was the heiress switched at birth by a nanny.

It was not until I turned eighteen that my biological parents finally found me, and traded me back for the girl they had raised and loved as their own.

However, fate played a cruel joke that very same week.

My parents died in a car accident. The family business collapsed. In one night, I lost everything.

My older brother survived, but his kidneys failed.

I did not hesitate. I gave him mine.

However, grief broke something in him. Blaming me for our parents' deaths, he spiraled into madness.

"You killed Mom and Dad! Why wasn't it you who died instead?" he screamed.

I gave up college and took on three jobs a day just to pay for his treatment.

Years passed.

One day, while cleaning a mansion as a housekeeper, I saw her, the "sister" I was traded for, gliding through a lavish party, dressed in designer clothes and dripping in jewels.

I froze when I heard the voices I had long thought silenced.

My parents, alive, speaking to her as gently as ever:

"Jasmine, you're so compassionate… agreeing to end Helen's punishment early."

My brother, the one who should still be seeing a therapist, frowned and objected.

"No. Not even a day less. Just because she suffers a little doesn't mean she deserves to live."

I glanced down at the medical report still warm in my hands.

For the first time in years, I smiled.

"Perfect," I whispered. "Now I can finally die like I wanted to."

The day I found out I had late-stage stomach cancer, I thought it could not get worse. I just wanted some cheap pain medications to dull the ache.

However, the second I walked through the door, I received a greeting I did not expect. It was a cup hurled at my head with deadly aim.

My vision reddened as I locked eyes with my brother, Will, his own eyes blazing with anger.

"Today's the anniversary of Mom and Dad's passing. Where on earth did you vanish to?" he shouted, yanking me by the hair and dragging me down in front of the family portraits, demanding an apology.

"If it weren't for you, they'd still be alive! Apologize! Admit you're in the wrong..."

Before, I would have caved to his demands, apologizing to the smiling faces in the photos.

However, after seeing how they doted on Jasmine Hawkins, our adopted sister, I finally understood something. The love I had been starved of all those years was never meant for me.

The throbbing in my head was making me woozy.

"What did I do?" I asked.

For 18 years, Jasmine's family treated me like dirt. My own parents caused that car crash for Jasmine's sake, leaving me with a decade of guilt.

I gave up a kidney to save my brother, worked myself to the bone to pay his medical bills, and finally, I was sick and broke. Was that my fault, too?

"You messed up, making them switch your identity with Jasmine's. That was your mistake!

"Helen, you're only getting what you deserve!" he snarled, slamming my head against the floor.

Everything went black with the sharp crack, but he did not stop, not until his phone rang with a tune I knew too well. It was Jasmine.

He hung up and exploded again.

"Helen, cut the act. Did you upset Jasmine again?" he growled, gripping my hair like he wanted to end me right there.

However, my strength was fading fast.

"I didn't... I swear I didn't..."

I tried to explain to Will, my voice barely a whisper.

He did not buy it, convinced I was lying through my teeth.

He strung me up under the staircase, leaving me dangling in the air.

The chill from the wall and the sharp pain in my hands were almost too much to bear.

Will grabbed my chin, his eyes filled with a disgust I had never seen before.

"If anything happens to Jasmine, you'll regret it forever."

I watched him walk away, the weakness in my body screaming at me to fight for my life.

Luckily for me, the rope was not tied too tightly. With every ounce of strength, I rubbed my hands raw against it. Finally, just before the break of dawn, I hit the ground.

The next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital bed.

I turned to see Melissa Parker, my landlady, looking at me with such kindness.

"Helen, how are you feeling? Are you still in pain?"

My hands were bandaged; her soft voice almost brought me to tears.

"I'm okay now, Mrs. Parker. Can you help me with the discharge papers? I'm broke.

"And about the rent, I've got it covered, but I won't be renewing my lease..."

I blurted out everything in one go, then braced myself against the pain as I searched for the money.

Melissa sighed and handed me the doctor's report. "Helen, the doctor says you don't have much time left.

"Why don't you take better care of yourself?"

That was when I could not hold back the tears any longer.

I did not cry when Will lashed out at me in his illness.

I did not cry when customers gave me a hard time at work.

I did not cry when I found out about the cancer.

However, Melissa's words broke the dam, and I sobbed uncontrollably.

At least I had three months. I had three months to ditch my family and finally live for myself.

On my way out, I ran into Jasmine again.

She was still rocking designer threads, wearing delicate makeup, which was quite a contrast to my faded, frayed clothes and brittle hair.

"Helen, how did you get like this?"

She clutched her mouth, pretending to be shocked, but the gleam of triumph and challenge in her eyes was as clear as day.

"Oops, I totally forgot. Will has been on your case every day because of me, and our parents can't stop showering me with all these fancy gifts.

"My birthday's just around the corner, you know. If you're curious, I guess I can invite you..."

Just then, a snarky voice cut through the air, dripping with delight at my misfortune. "Oh, my god. Did I really just hear that?"

"Guys, check this out! Jasmine, of all people, is asking a waitress to her swanky party."

"That's just too funny. How low can she go?"

I counted the days; my birthday was the next day.

Luckily, I had just received my paycheck. Ignoring the bickering duo, I slipped away.

Then, for some reason, I found myself buying a 100-dollar cake.

When the clock struck midnight...

I eagerly placed two candles, shaped like the numbers 2 and 8, on the cake that wished me a happy birthday.

I lit the candles, which encircled the number 28 like a halo.

"My birthday wish is..."

I did not even get to finish my silent wish when Will burst in, panic written all over his face.

"Why are you still celebrating? Jasmine tried to off herself!

"The blood bank's running low. We need to get to the hospital, now!"

I watched my birthday cake fade into the distance, the spark in my eyes snuffed out in an instant.

That was supposed to be my last birthday bash.

Will hauled me off to the hospital; my head was in a fog.

It was not until I saw the needle for drawing blood that I snapped back to reality.

"I can't do it. I have cancer. I'm not allowed to donate blood..."

I tried to bolt, but Will yanked me back without mercy.

"Cancer? You're bouncing around like nothing's wrong. How can you have cancer?

"Cut the chatter and donate already. If Jasmine gets worse, I'll never let you off the hook."

The doctor looked unsure for a moment.

A nurse hurried over and said, "The patient's in critical condition. Do we have any blood left?"

Without further hesitation, the doctor started the disinfection process on my arm.

Will's grip was unyielding, and I could only watch helplessly as my strength slipped away.

"How much blood does the patient still need?"

The doctor, noticing my ghostly complexion, turned to the nurse.

She whispered, "We're 600cc short. I'll try to find more..."

Before she could finish, Will cut her off, saying, "She's tough; she can handle it. Whatever's missing, take it. We have a life to save."

The nurse looked shocked. "Taking more than 400cc can be harmful..."

"I'm her brother. I'm in charge here."

Too weak to protest, I could only let the doctor draw blood until I passed out.

In the haze, I heard familiar voices, crying tears of relief.

"Jasmine's awake, thank goodness."

"God bless! My child is safe."

"And it's all Helen's fault. Why does she have to be such a problem? We should've never brought her back."

As my parents' voices faded, I slipped into unconsciousness again.

When I came to, daylight had broken.

The doctor was there, his expression grave.

"You know you're a cancer patient, right?"

I knew, but nobody believed me. Not even my brother, who accused me of faking it for attention.

The doctor's words hit hard: I had maybe only a month left.

I wanted to laugh. Must I be gone for good before they would see me as the perfect daughter, the golden child they always wanted?