After a long silence, Edith bit her lip, her voice trembling as she choked out, "I just can’t compare to her, can I?"

Earl’s gaze lingered on Edith by the window, deep and unreadable. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

The room was silent, save for the sound of Edith’s muffled sobs.

He didn’t respond.

Edith buried her face in the quilt, showing him nothing but a lonely, retreating back.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Earl tossed a shirt onto the bed and walked out of the room without a hint of hesitation.

Before leaving, he spoke, his tone fainted but firm.

"Edith, I raised you for ten years after your parents left."

"I didn’t do it so you could learn to degrade yourself or act without shame like this."

Her tears soaked into the shirt he had thrown.

Degrade herself? Act without shame?

Earl… what am I to you?

The next morning, when Edith woke up, Earl had already left for the office.

A light drizzle fell outside, tapping softly against the windows.

On the dining table, a note awaited her in his familiar handwriting:

The milk is warm; drink it. Lunch is in the pot. The aunt will come by to wash the clothes.

He pretended nothing had happened, just like the past seven times.

Edith sneered bitterly at herself. She would be nineteen soon, not nine.

For ten years, he had been leaving notes like this, treating her as though she would never grow up.

Still, she obediently drank the milk and sent him an Instagram message: I’m done.

His reply was instant: You have a class at 1:30 PM. Don’t forget to go to school.

Earl had chosen Edith’s university—a ten-minute walk from home. He had refused to let her live on campus.

Her life had revolved around this house for as long as she could remember, her only excursions being to attend classes.

With her toothbrush in her mouth, she sent another message: Brother, let’s go to that new chicken wing place near the house tonight. It’s raining.

By the sink, her skincare products stood beside his facial cleanser. Their toothbrushes—matching electric ones, different only in style—rested side by side.

The pink rabbit-themed mouthwash cup was a set she had picked, and though he had grumbled about it, he used it anyway.

Earl… you say you can’t love me, yet our lives are so intertwined.

What about all the unspoken indulgence, the quiet doting, even the moments of tenderness?

Edith lifted her gaze to the mirror. The girl staring back had delicate eyebrows, eyes that seemed to hold secrets, and beauty as ephemeral as smoke and dreams. Yet, the faint vulnerability in her gaze always seemed to awaken a man’s instinct to protect.

That face—flawless and enchanting—had been plastered on the university’s confession wall the very first day she arrived. Everyone agreed: Edith was the most beautiful freshman at A University.

A notification from Earl lit up her phone: Another day. Today is Valentine’s Day—I promised to have dinner with Edith.

With a loud crack, the mirror shattered.

Edith again. It’s always her.

Earl hadn’t had dinner with Edith in a long time.

Edith feared rainy nights; her mother had died on one. Earl had once promised her that unless there was an unavoidable obligation, he would always come home on rainy nights to have dinner with her.

But Edith had broken promises over and over again.

Liar. They’re all liars.

Her knuckles brushed against the jagged fragments, sharp edges slicing into her skin. Blood began to drip onto the cold tiles.

Edith wiped her face, smearing blood across her cheeks, and then sat amidst the broken shards. She raised her injured hand, snapped a photo, and sent it to Earl.

She lay down on the icy ground, her phone glowing faintly in the corner of her vision as the screen lit up and dimmed.

Within half an hour, hurried footsteps echoed outside the door.

Earl burst in, his voice laced with panic. "Edith, what happened? Why are you bleeding?"

Edith remained on the floor, surrounded by the mess. She didn’t speak. She didn’t look at him. Tears streamed silently down her face.

With ease, Earl scooped her into his strong arms. His voice was exasperated but soft as he sighed, "You’re really made of water—always crying, aren’t you?"

He placed Edith gently on the sofa and knelt halfway to apply medicine to her hand. “Why are you always so careless?”

Earl’s movements were meticulous, his fingers light as he tended to the wound. Watching him, Edith couldn’t help but feel a pang in her heart.

“Brother,” she whimpered, hooking her pinky around his, her eyes welling with tears once more. “Do you really have to be with Edith?”

His hand froze momentarily but resumed its task as if her words hadn’t struck a nerve.

“Yes,” he replied calmly. “I’m almost thirty, and you’re an adult now. It’s time for me to settle down, and you should feel at ease starting your own life too.”

“Edith is a good girl,” he continued, his tone steady. “Don’t worry. She’ll treat you well. Even when we have children of our own in the future, you’ll always be my family. Everything I own will be divided equally between you.”

Such a generous, noble promise.

Edith should have been content with that.

She knew the truth—they weren’t related by blood. Earl had simply been a friend of her parents, taking her in after they passed and raising her for ten years, giving her a life of comfort and privilege.

She should have been grateful.

He was her family’s benefactor, wasn’t he?

But… but…

Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked at him. “Brother, I miss my parents.”

He acknowledged her softly. “Mm.”

Edith leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice trembling. “Do you miss them too?”

Earl didn’t push her away. Instead, he finished tying a neat bow on the bandage around her hand, capped the iodine bottle, and tidied up the medical kit. “Yes,” he said simply. “I do miss them.”

Nestled against him like a baby bird seeking warmth, Edith murmured, “It’s good to miss them.”

That evening, Edith came home carrying a beautifully packaged fruit basket.

Her long, wavy hair and flawless makeup radiated the confidence and charm of a mature woman.

Kicking off her high heels at the door, she stood barefoot until Earl handed her a pair of disposable slippers.

Edith slipped them on and looked down at her feet. The slippers were decorated with bright yellow ducks—playful and childish. She glanced over and saw Earl’s pair in blue, just as quirky and completely at odds with his usual polished demeanor of tailored suits and leather shoes.

She couldn’t suppress a giggle, covering her mouth with one hand. “Mr. Frost, wearing something so childish? It doesn’t suit you at all.”

Earl chuckled, his expression warm. “Children like them, so we just go along with it.”

Earl greeted Edith warmly, “Your sister heard about your injured hand and was so worried she insisted on coming to see you.”

His tone carried a subtle sense of pride, as though Edith’s kindness and thoughtfulness were his own achievements, something to be proud of, like a man boasting about his beloved.

Edith forced a sweet smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you, Aunt Edith.”

Edith laughed lightly, reaching out to touch her head. “Aunt? I’m only ten years older than you! Just call me sister.”

Carefully avoiding Edith’s injured hand, she gently guided her toward the fruit basket she’d brought. “I picked out some fruits for you. Make sure to take care of that hand.”

The fruit basket didn’t have much variety, but each item was something Edith loved.

Earl glanced at it with a trace of surprise. “You actually know what she likes to eat? That’s impressive. She’s a picky one.”

Edith’s smile grew, a touch of pride in her expression. “Of course! I care about her deeply.”

Her gaze, filled with affection, lingered on Edith as she spoke.

Yes, the more thoughtful she was toward Edith, the more it reflected how much she loved him.

Earl was like a clean, bright house filled with light, while Edith felt like a lonely crow perched in its shadow, forever out of place.

As the conversation continued, Edith unconsciously bit her lower lip, her emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

Carefully, Edith pulled out the fruits, revealing a teddy bear tucked at the bottom of the basket. She held it up with a triumphant smile, as though seeking approval.

“Last time I saw the old teddy bear in your room with its stuffing coming out, I searched high and low to find the exact same one. It must mean a lot to you, right?”

The surge of overwhelming love in her voice was undeniable, pressing in like a tide Edith couldn’t escape.

She felt like she might drown in it.

“I will love you, Edith,” Edith whispered, her words soft but resolute.

The heavy rain, the car accident, the dim and flickering lights in the prison. Edith’s small, trembling hand gripped tightly, and when she looked up, her father’s desperate, ashen eyes stared back at her—

Countless fragmented memories pieced themselves together into a nightmare Edith would never escape.

“Ah—!”

Her scream pierced the silence.

Earl quickly stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. Edith clutched at her ears, wailing in sheer panic, her body trembling as though the fear would tear her apart.

“What happened? What did I do?” Edith sobbed, her hands shaking uncontrollably. “I’m sorry—what happened?”

Earl shushed her gently, signaling her to stay calm as he carried her into the bedroom.

But Edith fought to free herself, her nails clawing at his arms, leaving three bloodied scratches. She scrambled onto the bed, cocooning herself in the quilt, trembling like a trapped bird.

Earl tugged at the quilt twice but couldn’t pull her free. Realizing her distress, he left to speak with Edith, the murmurs of their conversation drifting faintly through the ajar door.

“Her father gave her a birthday gift when she was nine…”

“…the next day, arrested… company financial disputes…”

“…his last gift… a happy family…”

“…she loved him so much…”

The whispers grew quieter, eventually fading away altogether.

Earl returned and shut the door, but not before Edith caught a glimpse of his face through the narrow crack—a profile steeped in pity, his gaze soft as he embraced Edith. Their two shadows, elongated and entwined, flickered briefly on the wall.

Yet, despite his presence, he didn’t meet her eyes. He didn’t turn back.

Even when Edith’s cries turned hoarse, reduced to choked sobs, he remained silent.

That night, Edith cried until her voice broke, just as she had when she first came to Earl’s house—a fragile child, her parents gone in the blink of an eye. Her only resistance against a cruel world was tears.

Earl had stayed with her then, cradling her small body all night, coaxing her out from beneath the quilt with infinite patience.

“Don’t be afraid, Edith. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

But now, those scars—her scars—were merely a story he used to comfort another woman, all to excuse his sister’s rudeness.

Edith traced the red string jade pendant her mother had left her, its cold surface grounding her fleeting sense of reality. She longed to retreat into a dreamless abyss, where even memories couldn’t reach her.

Earl, you shaped my life, made it, so I had only you to hold on to.

But when others needed you, you left me behind without a second glance.

She couldn’t understand—truly, she couldn’t.

After seeing Edith out, Earl returned, letting out a sigh.

“You scared your Aunt Edith,” he said.

Edith stared at him, her voice trembling.

“Brother, why didn’t you care about me just now?”

Earl’s tone was calm but firm.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.”

Edith’s voice rose, frustration spilling out.

“Then why didn’t she apologize to me?”

Earl’s brows furrowed as he asked, “Why should she apologize to you?”

“She pities me, Brother. She looks down on me!” Edith’s voice cracked as her emotions boiled over. “I don’t need her sympathy or her self-righteous pity. She’s rubbing salt into my wounds! Does she think everyone’s life is as happy and perfect as hers? Does she think no one can see her sense of superiority? Who even wants her charity—”

She stopped herself, shaking with anger.

Edith—the woman who was a powerhouse in the business world but naive and soft-hearted in front of Earl.

She had everything. Two loving parents, a privileged upbringing, and a family that adored her unconditionally. She had grown up in a life of comfort and wealth, her path lined with opportunities—college, graduate school, and a finance career in the United States. Upon returning, she had become Earl’s most trusted partner.

Half of Edith’s expensive wardrobe was funded by her own success.

Smart, beautiful, and confident, Edith was like a flaming rose—vibrant and untouchable. But she always looked down at Edith, seeing her as nothing more than a child.

And now, she had effortlessly claimed the only person Edith had in the world.

“Enough!” Earl’s sharp voice cut through the room, his expression cold and unyielding.

Edith froze, stunned. She had never seen him so stern before.

“Edith,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s your future sister-in-law. You need to learn to respect her. Do you understand?”