When I was tortured and abused to death, my brother was accompanying my cousin to an art exhibition.

The last thing my brother said to me was, "You don't deserve a birthday."

However, I was secretly glad that my brother’s refusal allowed him to escape.

The next day, he was doing a criminal psychological profile at a murder scene.

Based on the scene, he speculated that the murderer had acted out of revenge, that was why his methods were extremely cruel and the victim had suffered a brutal massacre before their death.

But he didn't realize that the person who died was his own sister whom he hated the most.

Part 1

I was dismembered after my death. The murderer dumped my body and deliberately let people discover the murder scene.

After the police department received the report, the police immediately dispatched the detectives to the scene.

The abandoned factory was filled with a pungent smell of blood. If I hadn’t experienced it myself, I would have suspected that someone was using animal blood to create art.

I floated in mid-air, shocked that people could bleed so much. But one thing that I forgot, there were two of us.

The police dog barked as it sniffed the minced meat on the ground.

My brother frowned as he revisited the scene back and forth countless times. He tried to deduce what happened to me before I died by closing his eyes.

My brother was the youngest, but he was the most powerful criminal profiler in the Bureau since he had solved countless difficult criminal cases in his hands.

The other detectives performed their duties, like taking pictures, collecting evidence and looking for clues. They all knew that they must not disturb my brother when he was deducing with his eyes closed.

Time ticked by. Suddenly, my brother's eyelashes trembled and his face gradually turned pale, almost transparent.

His hands holding the pen turned white from the force he exerted, cold sweat dripped from his temples and his breathing became increasingly rapid.

“This is a brutal massacre. According to my profile, the murderer was seeking revenge with ruthless means. The victim was a woman, who was tortured to death and dismembered after her blood was drained."

As expected of my brother, he could make an accurate deduction based on the scene alone.

The detectives stopped what they were doing and looked at him solemnly, "Capital punishment? Are you sure?"

My brother had witnessed so many murders that he should have remained calm even when faced with a catastrophe. But at the moment, he was like a drowning fish and said, "Pretty close."

Capital punishment, the thing that everyone knew what it meant.

Familiar modus operandi.         

My brother raised his hand and tried to trace the white paper, but he was trembling so badly that he couldn't hold the tip of the pen at all.

The detective on the side patted him on the shoulder and said, “Mr. Fuentes, maybe it was a coincidence or a copycat crime."

For some reason, when my brother was trying to profile the murderer, the brushstrokes drew the victim first.

The outline looked very much like me. But when he reached the facial features, he stopped drawing.

I knew he might be thinking that it should not be me. So, he took out his mobile, flipped to my phone number and pressed the dial button after hesitating for a while.

But no one answered.

He waited impatiently for three rings, then hung up the phone before saying in disgust, "What the hell! How dare she not answer my call."

I could not understand why he was annoyed. It could be because I ignored him and did not answer his calls within seconds, or maybe it was because the scene was too bloody and my brother was restless.

"Captain, we have a new discovery. Look here, the bloodstains here look a bit strange."

After hearing the new discovery, Henry, the Captain and my brother walked over to the bloodstain that belonged to me.

I saw him frowning and staring at the bloodstains in a daze.

Unfortunately, the traces I left behind were covered by more blood. So, after the large amount of blood dried, only the grotesque remained.

"Looks like scratches from a death struggle."

The Trace Division Criminalist took photos and speculated. Then, the statement was recognized by everyone.

I was so anxious that I screamed at my brother, "Brother, if you look more carefully, you might be able to discover the secret I left behind."

But he only looked back and left with the detectives.

Back at the police station, my brother stayed up late and worked overtime to profile the murderer based on photos from the scene.

But just like the other unsolved case, he could only draw the outline of the murderer and had no clue about the facial features. As a result, a sheet of drawing paper was crumpled into a ball and thrown all over the floor in annoyance.

I knew he was stuck on it again.

“Mr. Fuentes, why don't you get off work first? There will be more clues when the body is found."

In the end, my brother rubbed his temples and accepted the offer.

He had been drawing for long time but could not draw the murderer after all. So, it might be impossible to solve it in one night.

Part 2

Over the next five days, my body was found one after another, with incredible success.

I guess the murderer did it on purpose. Otherwise, with their methods, I would never see the light of day in my life.

I expected the corpse to be dismembered at most. After all, the man had come extremely close to vent his anger on me.

Facing nearly a hundred broken pieces, I froze and threw up with the restorer.

It was at the time that my brother entered the studio.

Looking at the pile of scattered corpses, he frowned so much.

"Have all the bodies been found? Why are there so many?"

“Mr. Fuentes, all that's missing is the skull. So far we confirm that the victims were two girls, which basically matches the amount of blood at the scene."

My brother covered his mouth and nose, suppressing the physiological retching before asking, "Can the restoration work begin?"

The restorer couldn't bear to look directly at the corpse and sighed, "It's all mixed up, so it’s hard to distinguish. So, it’s extremely difficult to work with them. The probability is that the identity of the deceased will most likely depend on the results of DNA identification. However, we will try our best to piece together the reconstruction. Maybe there will be clues on the body. The only thing that can be confirmed at the moment is that the deceased are two young women, about 25-30 years old."

My brother nodded and fled in a huff, vomiting acid reflux in the restroom. I felt sorry for making him sick because of my dying body

At the task force meeting, my brother boldly expressed his guess, “This murderer tortured two women. Excluding love murder, I can definitely say it was a vendetta. The killer is psychologically strong, but his anti-detection skills are too weak. This is extremely unreasonable, unless he deliberately lets us discover the scene and the body. But then he mixed up the body parts to deliberately make our job harder, as if he was testing whether we could find clues."

My brother was awesome, he guessed everything correctly. It was a pity there was no reward for it.

"Then you mean it is a provocation?"

"It's possible. He may be hiding in the dark and secretly observing our progress. The results of the DNA test will be available tomorrow. I suggest that once the results are obtained, the identity of the deceased should be concealed."

"Zachary, do you suspect that this case is the same as that of the previous case?"

My brother nodded feebly, then veins popped out of his clenched hands when he stated, "If I'm not mistaken, we’ll get other surprises as long as we continue to flounder.”

Henry’s eyes reddened as he heard my brother’s deduction. Then, he turned his back and slammed his fist hard against the wall while cursing, “These damn beasts."

Because of my brother’s speculation, Henry left my brother behind after the meeting was adjourned and said, "Zachary, no matter whether your guess is true or false, you and your sister must pay attention to your personal safety."

“Don't worry, Captain. I will protect Rochelle all my life."

The determination in my brother’s eyes was even more determined than the day he joined the party.

As expected, he was determined to protect my cousin, Rochelle. My lungs felt so congested as if a ball of wet cotton was stuffed in them, so that I felt so uncomfortable as if I was going to die all over again.

Henry frowned and accused him in dissatisfaction, "I'm talking about your biological sister, Hollie."

My brother raised his eyebrows and snorted, "She cherishes her life very much, so you don't need to worry about her safety."

Seeing that my brother didn't care about me, Henry hesitated to speak anymore. In the end, he just patted my brother’s shoulder and advised, "After many years have passed, you still can't let go? She is the only relative your parents have left for you."

"She lied and killed my mother. I can't get over it forever. For me, she doesn't deserve to be my relative, also my only biological sister is Rochelle."

My brother, who had always been calm and collected, had a ferocious look on his face and lost control of his emotions when he mentioned what happened that year.

“Captain, do you know what excessive demands she made of me yesterday? She actually wanted me to celebrate her birthday on the anniversary of our mother's death. She is heartless and delusional that I am going to say happy birthday to her. Oh anyway, today is Rochelle's birthday, so I should go back early, Captain."

I burst into tears. I hadn’t had a birthday in as many years as my mom had been dead.

Fine, I knew I didn't deserve it. But, brother, I really didn't mean to disgust you yesterday. I was just giving you a hint, hoping you would listen and that I would actually hear you say, “Happy Birthday” before I died.

After all, I was expecting too much.

Part 3

I followed my brother all the way home.

On the way, he bought Rochelle's favorite sunflowers and picked out Rochelle's favorite durian cake.

My brother called Rochelle several times with satisfaction, but no one answered. So, he panicked and was afraid that something might happen to Rochelle. As a result, he overtook her ten times and cut her off eight times along the way.

Since I was in the passenger seat, I could clearly sense my brother's inner panic. But then, I felt a bit disappointed that he didn’t show that expression when I didn’t answer his call some time ago.

After arriving, my brother got out of the car and ran home. His hand stopped on the door handle, shaking but not daring to use force.

"Rochelle." My brother's voice was shaking.

I had only seen that kind of panic on his face when my parents died.

Soon, the door opened with a click. Rochelle rubbed her sleepy eyes. Her eyes full of aggravation when he asked, "Brother, what took you so long? Did you forget what day it is today?"

I envy Rochelle for being able to blame her brother without restraint. Those who are loved were always fearless. Unlike me, I could only weakly pray for a birthday blessing from my brother but couldn’t get it in the end.

When my brother confirmed that Rochelle was fine, his whole body relaxed. Then, he hugged Rochelle tightly as if he had regained what he had lost while saying, "Rochelle, why didn't you answer the call? I was scared to death."

"Brother, I'm sorry, I fell asleep waiting for you."

Rochelle was full of apology, her voice choked with sobs.

My brother was most afraid of Rochelle crying, so he immediately coaxed her in a gentle voice, “Rochelle, I will never forget such an important day."

My brother pulled out an old jewelry box from his pocket like a magic trick and said happily, “Happy birthday, my lovely Rochelle."

When I saw what was in the box, I rushed to grab it like madman, but I couldn't stop my brother from taking out the jade pendant and putting it around Rochelle's neck.

That was obviously a birthday gift my mother bought me. Why gave it to Rochelle?

Since my brother missed my mother so much, I was willing to let him hold the jade pendant to send his thoughts. But, why did he give it to Rochelle in the end?

Rochelle knew the meaning of the jade pendant and refused to take it at first. But then, she caressed the jade pendant lightly with her hand, half joy and half sorrow, while saying, “Thank you, Brother. But this jade pendant is a birthday gift from my aunt to Hollie. I can't take it. If Hollie comes back and sees it…. "

Then, take it off, you bitch!

I had had enough of her fake attitude.

My brother immediately interrupted her in displeasure, “This is my mother's relic. Hollie has nothing to do with her."

His statement was really insulting to me. It was better for him to scold me than to do that.

A smug smile flashed in Rochelle's eyes, but then she pretended to care about me again and said, "Brother, does Hollie still refuse to go home? It’s been so many years. Have you contacted her lately?”

It was all thanks to you, I could float home.

Thinking of the agony of capital punishment on my body, I couldn't help but want to strangle Rochelle to death.

"What’s the point of talking about her on your birthday? It will give you bad luck."

My brother never concealed his dislike for me, but he took out his mobile anyway.

Rochelle suddenly clutched her chest in distress and said, "Brother, I…. I feel so sick."

My brother, who was just gloomy because of me, immediately put away his mobile and changed his face to one of eager concern when asking, "Rochelle, what's wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?"

"Brother, my heart hurts. I feel like I'm dying."

Hearing that, he immediately picked up Rochelle and wanted to take her to the hospital, but was rejected by Rochelle.

"Brother, don’t toss it. It is an old problem."

Anger and guilt kept changing on my brother's face. He was angry about the car accident I caused and felt guilty that I implicated Rochelle.

After all, the only one that knew Rochelle had no aftereffects at all was me, so she could be always pretending in front of everyone.

But my brother fell for her tricks and trusted her completely.

Part of me expected my brother to find out the truth soon, but another part of me feared that he would.