I was the real daughter who had been found and brought back.

On the day I was diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer, I received calls from my entire family.

Robert Miller cursed at me:

“Bringing you back home was a mistake!”

Linda Miller sent a video tearing my face out of the family portrait:

“Don’t ever come back again!”

Daniel Miller shredded the rag doll that I had brought from the foster home.

He said, “Why isn’t it you who’s dying? It’s all your fault that Emily Carter tried to kill herself!”

I sighed and hung up the phone.

Then I emailed my cancer diagnosis report to the family group chat.

【As you wished, I really am about to die.】

...

After I sent the report, the group chat fell into an eerie silence.

Dr. James Wilson looked at me with pity and said:

“As long as you receive active treatment, it’s possible for you to live many more years. Talk to your family, I’m sure they’ll support you.”

I gave a bitter smile and asked him:

“Would you mind helping me record a video?”

He nodded, sat up straight, and solemnly explained my condition into my phone’s camera.

When the video was done, I softly thanked him.

With his encouraging gaze following me, I walked out.

My phone suddenly buzzed.

It was a message from the group chat.

【Robert: You’ve gotten bold, Sarah Miller? Now you’re forging medical records?】

【Linda: Don’t think this will make us soften. If anything happens to Emily, I’ll never forgive you!】

【Daniel: If you’re going to fake it, at least put in some effort. One piece of paper and you expect us to believe it?】

In response, I sent the video that Dr. Wilson had just recorded.

The group chat once again went silent.

I lifted my head and looked at the sky. The autumn sun was still blindingly bright.

But no matter how bright, it gave no warmth at all.

Just like my so-called family.

They always claimed to be my real family, but they never gave me love or warmth.

【Snow: I know you all want me dead, so I won’t be seeking treatment.】

【Snow: Just pretend I was never your daughter.】

My eyes burned with pain as I hit send.

Ding.

A new message came through seconds later.

【Emily: Sister, please don’t throw a tantrum… Mom, Dad, and Daniel really are worried about you.】

【Emily: You’re right—it’s me who stole your family. I’m the one who deserves to die.】

【Emily: I’m sorry… I’ll give them all back to you.】

Even through the screen, I could practically smell the fake sweetness in her words.

I typed back:

【Snow: Oh? When did I ever say that?】

【Snow: Anyway, I’m going to die soon. You can take care of my corpse, how about that?】

Our family wasn’t poor, but living this way felt meaningless.

As soon as I said that, another notification popped up.

【You have been removed from the group chat by Daniel Miller.】

Immediately afterward, Daniel’s furious messages poured in like firecrackers.

【You pulled this stunt just because you’re afraid we’d blame you, didn’t you?】

【Emily slashed her wrists! She still defended you, but what about you?!】

【You’re just jealous we celebrated her birthday without you, aren’t you?!】

【You’d die if you went a single day without playing victim, huh?】

A sudden stab of pain hit my chest.

I bit my lip and replied with a bitter smile:

【Oh, I can die. And I will soon enough.】

Emily—my so-called “sister,” born on the same day as me.

After I went missing at six years old, my parents adopted her as a way to console themselves.

Just because she shared my birthday, she became my “replacement.”

And for seven years, they treated her as if she were truly theirs.

Until I was found and brought back.

Watching their intimacy, I envied them desperately.

Seven years of hardship had left me unable to fit into that kind of family warmth.

In her princess dresses, graceful Emily was a sharp contrast to me—skinny, gloomy, and joyless.

She could cling to them, pouting and wheedling, just to get them to take her to an Italian restaurant for dinner.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t even bring myself to say that my underwear didn’t fit.

In fact, I had never worn real underwear.

At the foster home, I only used strips of cloth to bind myself.

At that age, my chest developed too quickly for my thin body, attracting mocking stares and inappropriate comments.

Frightened, I scavenged an old worn vest from an elderly lady at the shelter and used it as a chest binder.

When she saw my struggles, she felt sorry for me and even cut off my long hair, making me look like a scrawny boy.

Still, I clung to the belief that my family wouldn’t despise me—that they would love me.

I grew my hair out again, tried wearing dresses, imitating Emily, doing everything I could to be a “proper girl.”

But no matter how much I tried, they always favored Emily.

Later, they even accused me of bullying her, of competing for affection, of trying to drive her out of the family.

Their resentment toward me grew stronger with each passing day.

Until my fifteenth birthday, when the fragile bond we called “family” shattered completely.

That day, they took Emily out to celebrate early in the morning. Not one of them remembered me.

When they returned at night, they found me sitting alone in the dark living room.

Emily was the first to step forward, holding out a takeout box with a sweet smile:

“Happy birthday, sis. I brought you some cake!”

I opened the box and saw a mangled piece of peanut cake, smeared with traces of other frosting.

But Emily knew perfectly well that I was allergic to peanuts. She had done it on purpose.

I didn’t eat it. I just left it sitting there.

Her eyes reddened as she bit her lip and whimpered:

“I know, are you mad at me…?”

Immediately, everyone scolded me:

“Can’t you stop picking on Emily? She doesn’t owe you anything. Stop exploiting our guilt to push her away, what’s the point?”

“This is exactly what we feared. That’s why we took her out alone for her birthday. Can’t you just let it go?!”

I was so fed up I picked up the cake and shoved it into my mouth bite after bite.

“Mmm, so sweet. Thanks, sister.”

That night, I nearly died from my peanut allergy.

While I was rushed to the hospital, Emily slit her wrists at home.

She left behind a note:

【I’m sorry. It’s all my fault for stealing my sister’s life. I almost killed her. The only way I can make it right is by dying.】

That night, they were terrified. They hovered around Emily, begging her to live.

They even told me not to come back.

Because Emily told them I had said she should die.

So they abandoned me in the hospital bed, cursing me, telling me not to return, afraid she’d be upset again.

But they didn’t have to worry. I really did have lung cancer. I was going to die anyway.

No one would hurt their precious Emily again.

And as for these so-called family members—I didn’t want them anymore.

My phone chimed again. This time, it was a message from Linda.

【Sarah… how did you become like this?】

【For the past two years, I gave you everything. Whatever Emily had, you had too. Why?】

【Stop making trouble. Just take what I said before as angry words. Come home.】

I didn’t reply. A few minutes later, Robert sent me a message too.

【Watching Emily be so sensible… I regret ever taking you back from the foster home.】

A sharp pain stabbed through my chest, as if a piece of my heart had been ripped away, the cold wind flooding in.

I coughed violently, the taste of iron filling my throat.

With a splatter, blood gushed from my mouth.

Dr. Wilson had warned me my symptoms would worsen—coughing would turn into bleeding, chest pains would become common.

But I didn’t expect it so soon.

Tears burned my eyes as I pulled out my phone and messaged Linda:

【Can I really come back?】

【But Robert and Daniel don’t want me there.】

Her reply came quickly.

【Come back first. We’re family. What grudges can’t be let go overnight?】

I closed my eyes and replied:

【Okay.】

She gave birth to me—surely she must still love me.

If she knew I was really sick, she would hold me and ask if I was hurting.

If Robert and Daniel knew, they’d forgive me too, wouldn’t they?

They’d care for me, stop being angry.

Emily’s lies would no longer work.

Maybe, just maybe, I could follow Dr. Wilson’s advice and fight to live.

With treatment, I could live for many more years.

I was still young. I had never really felt my family’s love.

I didn’t want to die.

So, I went home.

When I stepped through the door, everyone’s eyes fixed on me.

Emily lay pale and weak on the sofa, barely breathing.

“Sis, you’re back. I came downstairs just to greet you…”

The bandage on her wrist was soaked with crimson, making her look fragile and pitiful.

Robert snorted coldly.

“For your mother’s sake, I’ll let you stay. But from now on, don’t go near Emily.”

Daniel threw the shredded rag doll at my feet, sneering:

“If you bully Emily again, this doll is what’ll happen to you.”

I put down the bag of medicine and picked the doll up with aching care.

It had been sewn for me by an elderly woman at the shelter, using scraps of clean cloth.

As a child, I had envied girls who owned Barbie dolls. I never had one.

So she made me a doll of my own.

Through seven years of wandering, it was my only companion.

Now, she was dead, and the doll was torn apart.

The only person who had ever truly loved me was gone.

The only companion I had left was gone too.

Pain clenched my chest and I doubled over coughing again.

Daniel frowned, a flicker of impatience in his eyes.

“Can you stop pretending already? Fine, I’ll buy you a new one.”

Not the same. How could it ever be the same?

No new doll would be the one she sewed for me.

Tears spilled over, falling onto the doll’s torn fabric.

Finally, Linda spoke up.

“Enough. Don’t blame Sarah anymore. She always treasured this doll.”

“I promise you, I’ll sew it back together.”

Her warm hand brushed my head, and in that moment, my coughing actually stopped.

Love really could ease pain.

Mom, love me. Please, love me.

If you love me, I’ll endure treatment. I’ll try to live longer.

And so, I settled back into the house again.

My allowance was set to the same standard as Emily’s.