My Brother Blamed Me for Our Parents' Death

I died.

I died during the joyful Labor Day holiday.

The moment before I died, Allan Patton slammed my door open.

"Ada Patton! If you dare touch Leigh again, get out of this house and never come back!"

I remained calm and, with the last of my strength, pointed to the agreement on the table. "Since you hate me this much, let’s cut our sibling ties."

After a long silence, Allan’s furious and disappointed voice filled the room: "Ada! Don’t think you can threaten me with this."

"Fine, since you're so determined to leave, be gone before nightfall—don’t let me see you again!"

——

Today is the second day of the May holiday.

Only one day remains before the time the doctor predicted I would die.

But today, strangely, I felt strong, as if the illness had never touched me.

I turned over, got out of bed, applied makeup, and put on my prettiest dress.

We’ll be leaving soon, so I must dress properly—otherwise, they’ll blame my brother for neglecting me when I meet our parents.

Just then, I heard laughter from downstairs.

"Leigh, why are you so stubborn? I said I’d pick you up. Why come back alone?"

"It’s the holidays—too many cars on the road. It’s not safe for you to drive yourself."

"Brother, I just wanted to surprise you!"

It was Allan and Leigh Anderson.

I walked downstairs, ready to greet them, but their faces turned stiff and cold.

Allan looked at me, his expression darkening, a flash of disgust in his eyes.

"Who told you to wear the same dress as Leigh? She finally came home to relax, and you had to ruin it? Don’t you know she hates wearing the same clothes as others?"

"And your hair—what did you do to it? It's dry, frizzy, and disgusting."

I glanced at Leigh’s outfit, then looked at mine. Honestly, they weren’t the same.

Mine was years old.

Perhaps Allan forgot he once bought this dress for me himself.

As for my hair…

It’s just a wig I bought randomly. If he saw my bald head, he’d probably be even more furious.

"Brother, it’s not like that…"

I tried to explain, but he cut me off by shoving me back up the stairs.

He snapped, annoyed: "Don’t talk. I’m sick of hearing your voice. Go change your dress and fix your hair."

"There will be guests soon—don’t embarrass me."

I stumbled back a few steps and nearly fell.

Then Leigh’s gentle voice came from behind: "Brother, don’t be angry. You finally have a few days off—don’t ruin your mood."

"Ada didn’t mean to upset me. I don’t like wearing the same clothes as others, but it’s fine if she wears them. After all, she’s my sister."

Allan sneered. "She’s not your sister. You don’t need to keep compromising for her."

"I know what kind of person she is."

"She always wants to be the center of attention, and if she isn’t, she’ll do anything to make others miserable. Otherwise, our parents wouldn’t have died in that car accident because of her."

After a brief silence, I could clearly sense that Allan had lowered his voice.