My name was Rosa Wise. When I was stabbed more than 300 times by a mob to death, my father was transferring the house that my mother left me to my sister, Chelsea Wise.

Because he thought I, the person who got my mom killed, didn't deserve to live in her house.

He didn't answer any of my two dozen calls for help.

Later, as a righteous criminal police, he was filled with indignation when he saw my disfigured body.

He swore that he would bring the mob to justice.

When someone reminded him that I had lost contact, he sneered and said I deliberately disappeared because the house was transferred.

After the DNA test results of my autopsy came out, he completely collapsed.

"Rosa, I'm sorry... It's all my fault..."

***

The first policeman who saw my body was scared out of his wits.

Probably it was because I was killed in such a horrifying way. After all, I was stabbed more than 300 times.

My soul floated in the air.

Looking at his pale face, I felt a bit embarrassed.

Soon, my father showed up.

He was a criminal police for years, but when he saw my body, he still couldn't help but clench his fists and curse, saying that the mob was a monster.

My body was a terrible mess, beyond recognition.

"The deceased should be around twenty years old, just in the prime of youth. So pitiful..."

The forensic doctor beside me frowned and sighed, "What kind of hatred could possibly make someone do this?"

I stood beside my father, forcing a bitter smile.

Indeed. What kind of hatred could possibly make someone do this?

Even I didn't dare to look at my body again. I felt that if I did so, I'd relive the pain.

My father gritted his teeth and said, "Her parents must have gone through a lot raising her to 20. I will not stand down until the killer is brought to justice!"

Since the body had started to decompose and emit a foul smell, the forensic doctor chose to conduct a preliminary autopsy on the spot.

My father's colleague, Arnold Heptinstall, stood aside and lamented, "I feel so sorry for her. She looks about the same age as Rosa..."

Arnold suddenly realized something. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen her for a few days. You two haven't reconciled yet?"

"Don't mention her! She's not my daughter!"

My father glanced at my body and seemed to remember me, instantly showing a look of disgust.

Arnold frowned. "But she is. You should show more care for her. If something happens, you will regret it."

My father sneered, "What can happen to her? She's just so petty. A few days ago, we had a fight because of the house transfer. She's so money-minded and selfish. I bet she's cursing and swearing like a shrew outside. Who would dare to mess with her?"

As I listened to my father's words, my heart ached.

So, this is what he thinks of me.

The house is the only hope left by my mother, which carries all the memories of our family of three in the past.

How can I bear to give it away?

If Dad wants it, he can take it. But why did he give it to Chelsea?

Thinking about it, I laughed at myself and wondered what expression he would have when he found out that the corpse in front of him was me.

He'd probably feel relieved.

Or he'd feel that even though I was punished like this, he still hated my guts.

Arnold wanted to say something else, but my father walked forward coldly and said, "Focus on the case. Don't mind that damn girl."

After they worked for a few hours, my body was almost dissected, and the preliminary analysis was out.

The forensic doctor solemnly covered me with a white cloth, then slowly took off his gloves and said in a deep voice, "The deceased has nearly 300 wounds, and it is almost impossible to find a complete piece of skin. The method is so cruel that it is the first time in my 20-year career.

"This is almost like dismembering!"

After a pause, the forensic doctor continued, feeling distressed, "Not only that, before the deceased was tortured to death, her limbs were broken, and she was injected with a large amount of sedatives. Not a single one of these 300 cuts was fatal. The deceased died of pain before she was drained of blood! I can't imagine what she must have been through."

Listening to the forensic doctor's words, I couldn't help but tremble and hold myself tightly, feeling the overwhelming pain again.

Some of the people around me had lost control of their emotions.

Some were cursing, and some were sighing non-stop.

The police dispersed the surrounding crowd and then brought my body back to the station.

According to the process, a task force must be set up to investigate such vicious cases, and the police needed to use the bureau's monitoring system to investigate.

At the police station door, Chelsea looked around with a lunch box in hand.

She looked youthful and lively in her beige floral dress in the sunshine.

"Dad, I heard that you have a big case to deal with today. I'm worried that you will forget to eat, so I came to bring you food."

When she saw our father, she walked briskly and smiled as she brushed past me, covered in a white cloth and reeking of the corpse.

Dad stepped forward and carefully wanted to hold Chelsea in his arms. He said in a gentle and relieved tone, "Chelsea, you're so sweet. Let's go away. It's dirty and smelly here."

As he spoke, he gently covered Chelsea's eyes and said, "Don't look over there. I don't want to see you have nightmares at night."

I sneered. How could she have nightmares?

Someone who saw this scene sighed, "Chelsea is so sensible. How envious. I feel so bad for the victim. Perhaps like Chelsea, she used to be the apple of her parents' eyes, too."

"Indeed. Bob is so lucky to have two sweet daughters. I envy you so much, Bob."

Bob Wise was my father. He stopped smiling and said, "Not exactly. I only have one sensible daughter. The other one is here to collect debts."

I wanted to stay far away from Dad and Chelsea, and I was surprised that he suddenly mentioned me.

Looking at my father's serious expression as he explained, I instinctively covered my chest.

I didn't feel stuffy or painful.

That made sense. I was already dead.

Arnold couldn't help but comfort him, "Don't say that. Rosa always claims she's here to study, but everyone knows she's here to see you. Who do you think clean your office? It's always so spotless. And I've seen her refill your regular meds all the time..."

My father sneered, "She's considerate? It's Chelsea's birthday today, and she didn't even call. Instead, she made more than twenty phone calls yesterday when transferring the house. She doesn't care about any family affection at all. She only cares about money. Why should I give a damn about such a heartless person?

"As for my meds, if it wasn't for her, how did I get sick from overwork?"

I couldn't help but smile bitterly. My body probably started to stink before Chelsea celebrated her birthday.

How was I supposed to call?

Besides, he shouldn't blame me for him falling sick. These days, I had been relying on myself.

He worked overtime and got sick all because of Chelsea, the apple of his eye.

The police officer who knew the inside story couldn't bear to see it and advised, "Let bygones be bygones. How do you know that Rosa is not in pain and regret?"

Hearing someone mention the past, my father instantly gritted his teeth.

"She's in pain? She regrets it? No way! If it weren't for her unreasonable behavior back then, how could Lisa have died? And Lisa died so miserably. It was all because of her!"

Everyone fell silent, knowing that Lisa Hart was my mother. Dad took Chelsea into the police station, and others followed slowly.

Only I stood still, trembling and recalling the past.

At that time, Chelsea's whole family was killed by some criminal.

My parents felt sorry for her, so they went through the adoption process and brought her here to live with us.

They were worried that she wouldn't adapt to the new family and wouldn't feel a sense of belonging, so Dad unconditionally asked me to give her all my toys and everything else I had.

I always did as he said even though the doll was my favorite.

It was also the only thing left to me by my grandma.

But Chelsea didn't cherish it. She shaved off all the doll's hair and tore its dress in front of me. I was very heartbroken and snatched my doll back.

She cried loudly, attracting Dad's attention, and said I'd rather destroy the doll before letting her have it.

Mom quickly said that she would go to the toy store and buy a new one for Chelsea.

But Mom had a car accident on the way. The car was deformed, and she was burned alive in the car.

In an instant, our family collapsed mostly.

When Dad came back after dealing with everything, he slapped me hard and even wanted to vent all his anger on me.

"Why are you so selfish? Couldn't you just let Chelsea have the toy? Are you happy now, causing Lisa to die? Mark my words. Remember clearly! It's you who killed your own mother!"

He blamed me for my mom's death. For a long time, I really thought I had killed my mom.

I regretted it and was in so much pain. I figured I should go kill myself.

Fortunately, my classmates and teachers kept an eye on me and prevented me from attempting suicide several times.

It was not until I thought it through that I suddenly realized that it was actually Chelsea who was wrong. What was more, she instigated me to die several times.

I told my father, but instead of believing me, he was furious with me.

He thought I was so wicked.

Later, he favored her more and more. Instead of taking care of them and being criticized by them, I chose to move out.

Before I left, I wondered if Dad would stop me and try to keep me.

But he opened the door himself and said if I had left earlier, the tragedy wouldn't have happened.

I remembered every bit of it clearly.

My father was at the police station.

"I didn't let her have her toy, and she was jealous of Chelsea. And Lisa ended up dead! She was burned alive! Her flesh was charred!

"At such a young age, Rosa is already so easily jealous. She always competes for favors. How could she be so vicious? I'm so unlucky to have a such daughter!"

He almost was roaring.

The people around fell silent.

Many people saw the tragic scene.

I looked at my father, whose eyes were filled with sorrow, and silently wept.

I know.

Dad, you loved Mom so much, and you were devastated when you lost her.

That's why you hate my guts. You think I caused her death. The more you hate me, the more it shows how much you miss her.

So, all these years, you've never let go.

You never forget Mom, and you refuse to remarry,

But Dad...

Do you know?

In these years, I have also regretted it so much.

Many times I woke up in the night with tears in my eyes, breaking down and crying hysterically, regretting not giving Chelsea the doll.

I understand that I will never be forgiven because of an irreparable mistake.

But... Was it all my fault?

Arnold couldn't help but say, correcting my father, "It's clearly Chelsea's fault. She insisted on taking Rosa's toy. How can you blame Rosa for this? It was her mother who died!"

My father frowned and defended Chelsea, "Chelsea was so young at that time. What did she know? Rosa is her elder sister, and Rosa should know better. But what did she do? She got jealous and couldn't tolerate Chelsea at all."

Arnold retorted again, "Rosa is only two days older than Chelsea, right?"

"What do you mean?"

My father's face darkened.

Suddenly, the sound of the lunch box falling from Chelsea's hand attracted everyone's attention, ending their conversation.