I remember that day vividly.

It was pouring rain, and Dad had been called away by his colleagues at the police station. My stepmother had gone out to pick up Matthew from his tutoring session, leaving just Halle and me alone at home.

When I went to feed the cat, I saw Halle looking toward the cat's bed with a smile that was both smug and unsettling.

My kitten suffered for a few minutes before its body went limp and lifeless. I was sure Halle was responsible.

I tried to confront her, but Matthew, back from his tutoring, ended up snapping at me, "What does Halle have to do with the cat's death? Stop making a scene!"

At that moment, Halle's gaze was just as smug and satisfied as she was now.

After my mother passed away and my stepmother brought Halle into our home, everything changed.

I felt more out of place in the house, and even Matthew, who had grown up with me, seemed to prefer Halle over me.

The death of my kitten left a hollow ache in my heart.

I knew no one would believe me if I spoke up.

No one would believe that the sweet, understanding Halle could be capable of something so cruel.

That night, I cried for hours. When Dad asked me what was wrong, I couldn't help but tell him everything I had seen.

He told me not to overthink it.

I was heartbroken and reluctant to return home, using the excuse of staying over at a friend's house.

I never expected Dad to come looking for me that night.

He told me he believed in me, gently patting my head as he said, "My little princess has grown up.

"You're even stronger than I imagined.

"Whatever you want to do in the future, I'll support you!"

That night, we talked openly for hours, and both felt better.

None of us could have predicted that tragedy would strike on the way back.

If I had known this would be the outcome, I would have never been so reckless!

Our brakes failed.

To avoid a large truck ahead, our car crashed into a roadside utility pole. In my daze, I felt a pair of warm hands lifting me, followed by a deafening explosion.

"Boom!"

When I woke up, I was met with the devastating news: Dad had died, and my stepmother had taken her own life.

Matthew was like a wild lion, his eyes blazing with rage, as though he wanted to tear me apart.

"Why didn't you die? Why are you still alive?

"It's all your fault!

"If it weren't for you, Dad wouldn't have died, and Halle's mother would still be alive. Why did it have to be you who survived?"

At that time, I shared his anguish. I, too, wondered why it wasn't me who had died.

The guilt was overwhelming. Matthew wouldn't let me near him, nor would he allow me near our home.

He declared that from now on, Halle was his only family.

And Halle, even then, still wore that same cold, calculating look in her eyes.

Maybe in Matthew's eyes, his real sister had already died.

That was just as well; he wouldn't be too upset when he learned the truth.

I did die on the day he watched Halle's fashion show.

No one knew what I'd been up to these years, let alone that I became an undercover agent for the police.

Before the bust, I came face to face with the backstage boss, Vincent Kent's mysterious girlfriend.

The moment Halle appeared before me with her nose in the air, I knew I was probably a goner. She smiled at me, said "long time no see," and showed me a video of cat abuse.

"So, you've become a police informant. Just as stupid as your father!" she sneered. Then, she pointed to a location on the map and said, "If you want to know the truth about our parents' death, go there yourself.

"You know how much Matthew loves me as a sister," she added with a mocking smile in her eyes. I knew she was using Matthew to blackmail me. I had to go; I didn't dare not to.