My mom and dad died heroically in a fire rescue, trying to protect an orphan.

Afterward, my brother brought the orphan, Audrey, home.

To make her smile, he'd throw away photos of me and our parents. He even kicked me out in front of everyone.

For Audrey's coming-of-age celebration, he took her to Cranburn—the place I'd always dreamed of going.

In his eyes, I had nowhere else to go. He believed that once I realized I was wrong, I'd come back on my own.

But what he didn't know was—I had joined an overseas rescue team.

This might be the last time we ever see each other.

When I got the news that my application to join an overseas rescue team had been approved, my feelings were mixed—part relief, part sorrow.

The director informed me the team would be flying out in three days. But the day after tomorrow... that was my brother's birthday.

"Doctor," I asked, hesitating, "do we have to leave in exactly three days?"

I knew it was a difficult question to ask. But this might be the last birthday I ever got to spend with my brother.

"Bella," he replied, "the outbreak overseas is severe. As Doctors Without Borders, we must follow orders."

As a doctor, I knew I had a duty to carry out.

Another colleague added, gently, "Bella, if you're having a hard time letting go, then spend these three days with your family as much as you can."

Leaving the hospital, I couldn't help but think of everything that had happened recently.

My research—the project I'd spent so long working on—had finally shown results. I'd recorded everything carefully in my notebook.

That notebook was kept locked in my drawer. Hardly anyone touched it.

But Audrey—because my brother had shown me the smallest bit of concern—waited until I wasn't home, broke the lock, and destroyed it.

I lost control when I saw the torn pages scattered across the floor. I confronted her.

And right as I raised my voice, she collapsed onto the ground in exaggerated sobs, playing the helpless victim.

My brother rushed in at the sound of her crying. Without even asking what had happened, he scolded me in front of her.

He even said, "Bella, Audrey is family now. In this house, there's nothing she's not allowed to touch. If you can't accept her, then leave."

Ever since Audrey moved into our home, things between Bobby and me had been falling apart.

But the thought of leaving in just three days made all our old arguments seem small.

If I couldn't celebrate his birthday with him, then buying a gift in advance would be my way of saying goodbye.

I called him, hoping he'd agree to celebrate a day early.

When he picked up, I spoke softly, "Bobby... I'll be busy in three days. Would it be okay if I celebrated your birthday with you early?"

There was no response on the other end. My heart jumped to my throat.

"Bobby?"

I called out again, unsure. But it wasn't his voice that came back—it was Audrey's.

"Bella, who celebrates a birthday early? There's only one birthday a year. You can't spare time even for that? If you're too busy, I'll keep him company."

Before I could say anything, she hung up.

I clenched my phone in frustration. Maybe she was just being petty. Maybe Bobby hadn't even heard the call.

I tried to brush it off and focus on what I could still do.

I went to Raatz Mall and browsed the men's section, picking out a birthday gift for him.

Just as I stepped out, arms full of shopping bags, I ran into Audrey—arm in arm with Bobby.

"Bobby," she said sweetly, "I told you. Bella wouldn't apologize to me. She just snapped at me yesterday, and now here she is, pretending nothing happened, out buying gifts for some guy."

Bobby's brows furrowed as he saw the bags full of men's items.

"No, Bobby, these are—" I began to explain, but he cut me off before I could finish.

"Bella, didn't I tell you yesterday to apologize to Audrey? And this is what you're doing instead?"

I bit down hard on my lip, my fingernails digging into my palm.

"I just wanted to get your birthday gift in advance."

He gave a cold laugh at that.

"All these years, haven't I taught you to be kind to Aundrey? If you can't bring yourself to apologize, then don't bother showing up to my birthday party at all."

Before I even had the chance to explain, I saw Bobby take hold of Audrey's hand and disappear from view.

As they turned, that smug little smile on her face sliced right through me.

I walked the streets like a ghost, strawberry cake in hand.

It was always like this. Every time Audrey and I fought, Bobby would take her side.

And me? I would end up buying strawberry cake from the south end of the city to bring home as an apology.

Not because Audrey liked it—she didn't. She just liked watching me drag myself across town, transferring between subway lines and buses for four or five hours, exhausted and humiliated, standing in front of her with a cake and a sorry.

Only then, when I looked sufficiently beaten, would Bobby forgive me for whatever I had supposedly done.

When I opened the front door, Bobby was in the kitchen, preparing Audrey's favorite dish.

From cleaning the fish to slicing it into paper-thin pieces, he did it all himself.

The same brother who once never touched anything in the kitchen had, for her, become a chef.

"Hey, I got her favorite cake. You should have some too," I said.

He glanced at what I was holding, and his expression softened just a little.

I hurried to open the box, carefully slicing the cake and placing the pieces on the table.

"Audrey… I was wrong yesterday. I shouldn't have gotten so upset. Don't take it to heart, okay? Come have some cake."

I lowered myself with every word, practically begging before she finally agreed to sit down.

Bobby poured her a glass of warm milk with gentle care and said, "If it's too sweet, have some milk."

Then he looked up at me, and for a fleeting second, there was something like approval in his eyes. Maybe he thought it was admirable of me to come back and apologize.

But, Bobby… the only reason I came back and asked for her forgiveness was for you. I just wanted to see you smile.

Audrey devoured the cake, smearing cream on her cheek like a child.

Bobby wiped it off for her, his expression soft, doting.

I used to be the one he looked at like that. But the warmth that once belonged to me had long since moved on.

Maybe I stared too long. He noticed.

"Bella," he said slowly, "since you've already apologized, don't hurt Audrey again. Otherwise…"

He didn't finish the sentence, but I already knew what he meant. He thought the way I looked at her meant I was planning to hurt her.

'Bobby, is that really how you see me now? Do you think I'm the kind of person who would deliberately harm someone?' I wondered.

The cozy little moment in front of me pierced my chest. While they sat there, sharing cake and laughter, I stepped quietly out of the room.

That evening at dinner, Audrey chirped excitedly, "Bobby, didn't you promise we'd go to Cranburn this winter break?"

Her eyes sparkled like stars, and Bobby—he never stood a chance.

"Pack your things in the next couple of days," he said. "We'll head out soon."

She clung to his arm, clinging, purring like a cat.

Cranburn. The place I'd always dreamed of visiting. The city where Mom and Dad met.

"Bella, why don't you come with us?" Audrey looked at me with that same sly glint I'd come to know too well. She had no intention of bringing me along.

"No need. Things are busy at the hospital," I replied.

"Hmph. Why ask her?" Bobby cut in, his tone sharp. "She never wants to go anywhere with us. Always some excuse."

I didn't respond. There were more important things waiting for me. As for Cranburn—maybe I'd never make it there.

"That's where Mom and Dad fell in love, Audrey," Bobby added. "Someone without a sincere heart doesn't deserve to go."

His words were like a knife. He still held onto what happened all those years ago.

Back then, when Audrey first came to live with us, she was quiet, careful, almost timid—nothing like the entitled girl she'd become. But it was Bobby who gave her the confidence, piece by piece. He was the one who built her into what she is now.

I remember it was just over a year after Audrey came to live with us when she set her eyes on my bedroom.

She pleaded with Bobby, asking him to give me her smaller room and let her move into the sunlit one I had.

Back then, Bobby still cherished me, so he didn't agree to her request. But Audrey had other plans.

While I was away at school, she placed the only photo we had of our parents right on the edge of my doorframe. When I pushed the door open, the frame fell and shattered. That photo—our only one—was gone in an instant.

She rushed to call Bobby the moment she heard the sound. That night, Bobby hit me for the first time.

He said I wasn't worthy of being our parents' daughter.

From that moment on, nearly all the warmth he had ever shown me went to her.

But the one who caused our parents' death—was her.

A few years ago, during that devastating fire, our parents, both rescue workers, had volunteered to enter the most dangerous zone. They knew they might not come back.

The fire had been under control, or so it seemed. Then flames erupted again, even stronger than before. People started to question why. The sudden surge took many lives—among them, my parents.

Their bodies, when found, were burned beyond recognition. But beneath them, shielded tightly between their arms, was a girl.

Audrey.

Bobby believed she was the life our parents had died to protect—their legacy. He filed an adoption application and brought her into our home, raising her as one of us.

Back then, I thought so too. I believed she was a victim, someone our parents had saved. I was willing to treat her as my sister, to honor their sacrifice.

But not long ago, Brian Colden, a former colleague of my parents, confided in me. He said that fire might not have been what it seemed. The area my parents had cleared and contained flared up again. It could have been caused by something—or someone.

That day, the first seed of suspicion toward Audrey took root.

I asked Brian and Adam Miller to investigate.

All I wanted was to learn the truth before I left this place.

Just as I was lost in thought, Adam sent me a message.

He had been my father's student. He told me that in the room my father had entered, they detected high levels of toluene—a chemical known to cause secondary ignition.

Toluene was a common ingredient in nail polish.

And then I remembered Audrey's hands—her nails were always glossy and shimmering.

Could it be… that she had caused their deaths, even if indirectly?

…

"Bella, I only said a few words to you. Why are you staring at Audrey like that?" Bobby snapped, stepping in front of her as though I might pounce. "What, are you planning to do something to her again?"

His brows were tightly knit, his whole posture defensive.

"You misunderstood. I'll get along with her. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm leaving soon anyway. There won't be any more arguments between us."

My voice was shaky. To him, though, it must've just sounded like I was putting on a pitiful act.

"Don't pretend like we're the ones bullying you," he sneered. "You're the one always giving Audrey trouble."

I wanted so badly to tell him—everything had been Audrey's performance. But I knew he wouldn't believe me. Explaining would only make things worse.

"Bobby, after I leave, just live well with her. That's all I want."

He froze for a second at my words.

"What do you mean, 'after you leave'? Don't start using that runaway threat again. Audrey just calmed down. Don't stir up more drama."

I gave a small, tired smile and said to both of them, "Don't misunderstand. I only wish you both a happy life together from now on."

Because this time, I really am leaving.

"Of course," Audrey chimed in, her voice sweet and triumphant. "I'll take good care of Bobby."

She looked at me with the pride of a victor.

And Bobby—he simply thought I was being fake. He wouldn't even look me in the eye.