On Mom's death anniversary, drug dealers break into the cemetery and take me away.

To get revenge on my brother, Zack Smith—a forensic pathologist—they torture me until there isn't even a single uninjured spot left on my body.

I hold on for almost three days, barely surviving, until I finally get a chance to call him for help.

However, Zack replied, "Why didn't they kill you for good? A jinx like you who killed your own mother shouldn't be allowed to live!"

When the drug dealers notice my action, they shatter all of my bones.

The next day, a janitor discovers several large bags of human remains in the trash can.

Zack painstakingly reassembles my body back together with his own hands—yet he fails to recognize that it's me, his younger sister he always claims to hate.

When the drug dealers are finally arrested, he descends into madness.

After I was tortured to death, my soul drifted back to Zack Smith's house.

It had been three years, yet it was still exactly the same as I remembered.

I greedily roamed through every room, hoping to find every trace of Zack.

At that moment, he returned home with Madison Smith.

"Get some rest, Madie. I'll make you your favorite pork ribs." Zack affectionately sent Madison back to the bedroom before heading toward the kitchen.

My heart ached as I took in the sight before me.

Long ago, Zack used to treat me with the same gentle care. However, everything changed after Mom died.

He said I was the one who caused Mom's death, and refused to acknowledge a jinx like me as his younger sister.

I tried desperately to explain that Mom went out just to buy a cake for Madison.

But Zack never believed me, simply because Mom was clutching tightly onto a mango cake when she was hit by a car. And Madison was allergic to mangoes.

As such, he despised me and kicked me out of the house. He also forced me to get on my knees in repentance every year during the week of Mom's death anniversary.

It just happened to be the first day of that very week when the drug dealers broke into the cemetery.

Zack's phone suddenly rang at that moment. "Zack! Come to the police station as fast as you can!"

…

It was already night time by the time Zack rushed to the police station.

"Another case?" he asked, turning to look at Officer Wright, captain of the homicide unit.

"Take a look yourself," Officer Wright replied with a sombre look.

Zack opened up the black plastic bag placed on the autopsy table. The smell of blood mixed with decay hit him like a wave, making him frown involuntarily.

His face paled when he saw the dark red chunks of flesh mixed with bits of bones in the bag, hands trembling as he gripped the bag.

"This…they're truly monsters!" Zack said, his tone filled with pity.

After putting on gloves, he carefully took all the chunks of flesh and bits of bones out of the bag.

"This is just too cruel!" Zack's eyes reddened, looking beyond enraged.

Seeing him like this, I suddenly recalled how, three years ago, his eyes were just as red in anger—all because I was kneeling at the door, begging him not to kick me out.

I couldn't help but smile bitterly.

Zack began to carefully reassemble the flesh and bones. He continued on for a good 20 hours, not daring to rest for even a second.

Finally, he managed to reassemble my entire body. Unfortunately, I was without a head—the drug dealers had fed it to the wolfhounds in order to exact their revenge.

Although everyone present were experienced detectives or forensic pathologists, they still couldn't help but gag. Even I felt sick to the stomach seeing the uneven, dark red body on the autopsy table.

Officer Wright's face went as white as a sheet. "What monsters! They'd better not let me catch them!"

"They're worse than monsters!" Zack trembled as his tone filled with rage. "From the condition of the body, the victim likely had her bones shattered and flesh dug out when she was still alive. Not only that—her teeth, eyes, and nails were all pulled out."

His words drained the color from everyone's faces, and the atmosphere turned heavy in an instant.

But in that moment, a flicker of pride rose in my eyes.

As expected of the most renowned forensic pathologist in Zornia, Zack was able to describe everything I went through just by examining my battered body.

"But—" His gaze darkened as he looked at the body's right arm.

My heart clenched with overwhelming tension.

When I was 12, I went hiking with Zack.

As the mountain was dangerously steep, and with the sudden downpour, he slipped and tumbled over the guardrail.

In a moment of panic, I reached out my right arm and grabbed Zack's hand, gripping it as tight as I could.

I held on for a full three hours, only letting him go when the rescue team arrived. We were both taken to the hospital afterward.

Zack was mostly unharmed—but my right arm had suffered a permanent fracture. I would never be able to exert any strength with it again for the rest of my life.

Was he about to realize that it was me?

I instinctively held my breath despite being a soul, my heart caught in my throat.

Zack said, "The victim's right arm shows signs of fracture. Based on the scarring, it likely occurred during childhood. You can use that to narrow down the search for the victim's identity."

Hearing his words, a deep bitterness welled up within me. I didn't want him to recognize me—but I couldn't help but feel heartbroken when he actually didn't.

Zack had been overwhelmed with guilt after I sustained that injury. He busied himself tending to each of my needs, taking care of me with utmost tenderness.

He told me that from now on, he would be my right arm. But it seemed like he had forgotten all about it now.

I couldn't help but smile bitterly.

At that moment, Officer Wright, who was standing by the side, said solemnly, "That's definitely a critical lead—I'll get my team to take note of this."

"Alright." Zack nodded as he continued to examine the reassembled body. "Based on what we have so far, the victim was female, likely between 18 and 22 years old."

His gaze was filled with fury and despair when he said, "She was so young—at the prime of her life, and yet subjected to such inhuman cruelty!"

"I'll definitely catch the killer!" Officer Wright slammed his fist hard against the wall.

The other police officers present also wore sorrowful expressions.

"Other than this, how else can we confirm the identity of the victim?" Officer Wright asked.

Zack fell silent for a moment. "At this point, our only option is to run a DNA test or attempt a facial reconstruction from the skull. But the skull is partially damaged, so it'll take some time."

"Got it." Officer Wright sighed before saying, "I'll keep assigning people to search the area—maybe we'll recover more of the missing remains."

"You have to find these monsters!" Zack said with a trembling voice, his fists clenching instinctively. "The victim's lower body was severely torn—indicating she was assaulted more than 50 times."

I froze. As expected, he didn't overlook a single detail.

Those drug dealers took turns assaulting me—52 times in total.

The nauseating stench mixed with their frenzied thrusts overwhelmed me completely. I struggled desperately, but to no avail.

Instead, they started taunting me.

"As expected of the younger sister of a forensic pathologist—she's wetter than any other woman."

"I wonder if Zack Smith had touched his sister before this? Do you think the reason he remembers all those muscles so well is from feeling his younger sister up?"

"This woman is so promiscuous—look at how well she's taking all of us!"

They continued to humiliate me.

In the end, I was completely numb. The only thing I could do was to close my eyes and count the times.

Officer Wright let out a heavy sigh. Suddenly, his expression changed just as he recalled something.

"Do you think this could be a case of revenge, like what happened with your mom, Zack?" he asked.

My mom? Didn't Zack say she died because a drunk driver hit her when she was out buying cake for me? How did drug dealers get involved in this?

I turned to look at Zack in disbelief.

"It's possible. After all, only heartless scums like drug dealers would do something this cruel!" His expression changed suddenly. "Shit! Madie is alone at home!"

Zack immediately dug out his phone.

Officer Wright turned to the others and said, "You all should quickly get in touch with your families too."

Zack made several calls, but no one picked up. He immediately started panicking, his hand began to tremble uncontrollably while holding the phone.

"No…No…surely nothing would happen to Madie!" he mumbled before turning to bolt out of the door.

Officer Wright hurriedly yelled, "Stop him!"

"Let me go!" Zack struggled desperately. Despite his thin frame, he managed to knock down three burly police officers.

"I'm going to look for my sister! Stop blocking my way!" He angrily pushed away those blocking him, eyes red.

I was stunned seeing how Zack was losing it. He wasn't this out of control even when Mom had her accident.

It turned out he cared a lot about Madison.

My chest felt unbearably tight as a deep ache settled within me.

At that moment, Zack's phone suddenly rang.

"Hello, Zack?" Madison's somewhat lazy tone came through, and he immediately relaxed.

After ending the call, Zack turned to apologize to the others. "Sorry, guys—I got a little carried away earlier."

I felt upset seeing how he'd calmed down once again.

I was also his sister. Why wasn't he worried about my whereabouts too?

I bit down on my lips, yet tears rolled down my cheeks.

At that moment, a police officer walked over. "We found more human remains, Officer Wright."

He then placed the black plastic bag on the autopsy table. As soon as it was opened, a foul stench of blood mixed with decay hit everyone.

Everyone couldn't help but frown in discomfort.

Zack was the only one who seemed like he didn't notice the smell at all, calmly taking the bones and chunks of flesh out of the bag.

After a good six hours, he finally stopped to look at Officer Wright. "This is probably the victim's entire body."

"Any new findings?" Officer Wright asked anxiously.

Hearing this, Zack's expression turned serious. "The victim is missing a kidney."

My breath caught upon hearing that I was missing a kidney.

I smiled bitterly. It wasn't missing at all—after all, it was inside Zack.

Back then, he developed kidney failure at a young age due to a hereditary condition. I managed to donate one of my kidneys to him in secret with Mom's help.

Zack completely lost it after learning the truth. He even held a knife against his neck, threatening the doctor to return the kidney to me.

I had to beg him not to hurt himself—or I would kill myself following him as well. Only then did he drop the knife.

Zack then hugged me tightly and cried. "I'm sorry, Sandy. It's all my fault—I never should've let you go through so much pain. That anesthesia shot must have hurt a lot! What would you do without a kidney now?"

Since then, he grew even more attentive and caring for me. That was the happiest moment in my life.

I wondered if Zack still remembered that.

At that moment, he seemed to have recalled something. His expression grew anxious when he said, "I know it now!"

My heart stopped for a moment. Did Zack finally realize that I was the one lying on the autopsy table now?