The day I died was Mommy’s birthday.

For once, she left me an unusually large slice of cake.

I hovered before it, greedy, leaning in to breathe in its sweetness.

But the very next second, she handed the cake to my younger sister, Bella Tesla.

“Have some, Bella. Better you than that ungrateful girl!”

Then she turned to Daddy, who was filming nearby.

“You recorded everything, right? When she returns, make her watch it. Don’t let her say again that we play favorites!

“Of all things to learn, she learned how to run away from home!

“We spoiled her! If she has any sense, let her never come back!”

She sneered as she slammed the table and cursed at me, never noticing the panic on Bella’s face as she held the cake.

She also failed to notice Bella’s disheveled hair.

She noticed even less the dark stains of blood on her sleeve.

Blood that belonged to me.

When Mommy stood in the residential playground shouting insults at me, many elderly men and women gathered around to watch the spectacle.

One older woman pointed at Mommy and began lecturing the child she was holding.

“You have to be obedient. You mustn’t learn from that kid who’s hiding and refusing to go home.”

The child in her arms sucked on her fingers and garbled, “Hungry tummy.”

“That’s right, so that woman wants to call her daughter home— ”

“Bullshit! Ask her to come home? That damn girl! I wish she’d just die!”

Mommy reacted violently, snapping back as she turned on the old woman.

The woman covered the child’s ears and replied awkwardly, “Watch your language. There are so many children here.

“With a Mommy like you, no wonder your daughter won’t come home!”

I crouched on a rusted swing as the wind nudged it gently, causing it to creak and sway.

Mommy’s face flushed bright red.

“You damn old hag, what nonsense are you spouting?”

Her shouting forced the older woman to step back half a pace, but after looking at her confused granddaughter, then at the onlookers, she still argued stubbornly, “What are you denying?

“I saw you at the supermarket last time.

“You carried your younger daughter, while you made the older one haul shopping bags taller than half her body behind you.

“Tell me—both are children. What kind of Mommy does that?”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd at her words.

“Oh—now that you mention it, I think I’ve seen them too.”

“That girl was so skinny and dark, her head always lowered. She even swayed when she walked.”

I kept my head down as I crouched on the swing, picking at my fingernails.

Because of my struggle just before death, my fingernails had peeled back one by one.

Now that I had become a ghost, the wounds remained the same, mangled flesh bruised purple and black.

They simply no longer hurt.

Mommy cared deeply about what people thought about her.

At the old woman’s words, her face flushed crimson, and her voice grew even sharper.

“What was wrong with making her carry a few things? Would helping the family kill her?

“That bag was full of snacks, things she wanted to eat. She carried her own food. What’s the problem?”

That wasn’t true.

I held my breath and kicked the swing hard.

That day, the shopping bags had been truly heavy, the handles cutting into my fingers until they turned purple.

They were filled with snacks Bella liked, the cola Mommy loved to drink, and the cigarettes Daddy smoked.

I staggered after Mommy, sweat welling up on my forehead.

Mommy held Bella in her arms.

Bella ate her ice cream until her face was smeared with it.

She turned her head with a wide smile. “Want some, Cassie?”

I licked my lips, aching with desire.

Mommy immediately turned Bella’s face away.

“Don’t bother with her. She deserves it. Who told her to fail her exam and talk back?”

When we got home, they sat on the sofa and watched cartoons.

They locked me on the balcony to reflect on my actions and rewrite my exam paper.

Waves of cramps twisted through my stomach from hunger.

In the living room, Mommy fed Bella, smiling with such tenderness.

That smile was something I had never received from her.

A thought began to grow wildly, like creeping vines.

I released my mangled, bloodied fingernails and lifted my head to look at Mommy.

She argued back and forth with the onlookers, her beautiful eyes burning as if lit by a fire that would never go out.

If Mommy knew I had died, would she regret it?

Would she cry for me?

Would she, even just once, hold me the way she held Bella?

I jumped down from the swing and drifted to her side, stretching out my hand, wanting to touch her.

As expected, my fingertips passed straight through her arm.

I pursed my lips and carefully slid my index finger into Mommy’s slightly curled palm.

It looked almost as if we were holding hands, and I couldn’t help pressing my lips together in a small smile.

Suddenly, Mommy jerked her hand away.

Of course, she couldn’t shake off my empty fingers.

It was only a gesture she made while arguing with someone else.

“That’s my daughter. I’ll discipline her however I want!

“If she wants to die outside, then let her die outside! At least I’ll have some peace and quiet!”

My hand remained frozen in that pretend hand-holding pose, hanging there alone in midair.

I stared at my invisible arm for a long while before slowly drawing it back.

Mommy stormed home in a rage.

Daddy was still playing video games.

When he saw her come back, he didn’t even turn his head.

“Wasn’t Cassie at the playground?”

“She’s dead!

“That damn girl—when she comes back, I’ll beat her to death!”

Daddy’s fingers never paused on the keyboard.

“Don’t talk like that.

“You’re at fault too. If you hadn’t altered the dress you promised Cassie to fit Bella instead, Cassie wouldn’t have run out in anger.”

Mommy exploded at the slightest provocation and suddenly hurled a sofa cushion at Daddy.

“How is that my fault?”

“That performance dress was something Bella urgently needed! Cassie has so many dresses—what difference does one more make?”

“When you put it that way, Cassie wasn’t wrong to say you were biased!” Daddy retorted.

“Biased? Bella is younger. What’s wrong with letting her have her way? Shouldn’t Cassie, as the older sister, know better?

“I spend tens of thousands every year on Cassie’s tutoring—doesn’t that count as favoring her too?”

“Know better? Is that what you call being scolded so badly she doesn’t dare come home?” Daddy challenged.

“That’s because she has a guilty conscience! Who knows where she’s hiding, having fun on purpose just to anger me!” Mommy replied in growing anger.

My parents shouted back and forth, neither giving an inch.

They did not notice a small figure crouched in the corner of the living room, covering her ears in terror.

She was still wearing the dress I had never worn before—the one that had been taken back to the mall and exchanged for a smaller size.

I drifted over, hugged my knees, and curled up across from her, staring at the dress on her body.

It was blue, studded with rhinestones, and very beautiful as it glittered brightly.

Like the dress Cinderella wore in cartoons.

Daddy had promised long ago that he would buy it for me if I passed my exam.

I studied desperately for a long time, and finally, I passed.

But on the day the dress arrived, Bella cried and said she wanted to wear a princess dress for her kindergarten performance.

Without another word, Mommy took the dress and the receipt and went to the mall to exchange it for the smallest size.

“Cassie, you’re the older sister. Give in to Bella. I’ll buy you something better next time.”

There was no next time.

I lowered my head and looked at the dress I was wearing, washed until it had faded.

At the lower right corner were a few ink stains splashed onto the hem by my deskmate, stains that no amount of washing could remove.

Bella’s expression grew more and more unfocused.

Every time she heard my name, her body trembled.

At last, she could no longer bear it and burst into loud, wrenching sobs.

“Cassie ran! Cassie ran away!”

My parents’ fierce argument came to an abrupt halt.

Mommy hurried over, pulled Bella into her arms, and gently patted her back.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I was wrong. I scared you, didn’t I?

“It’s all Cassie’s fault for running off. When she comes back, we’ll punish her!”

Daddy also walked over.

He sighed, his voice weary.

“All right, all right. Don’t cry. Tomorrow, Daddy’ll buy you a doll, okay?”

But Bella cried harder than ever, hysterical, endlessly calling out to me.

That night, Bella developed a high fever.

Mommy held Bella’s hand, her face drawn with exhaustion as she stroked it again and again.

In the silence, she sounded as if she were talking to herself, her voice hoarse as she complained, “Cassie has always been trouble. Now she won’t even come home, and she still has to torment us like this…

“If she hadn’t been so disobedient and run off, how would she have frightened you like this?

“How would you have gotten a fever…

“If she had even a shred of conscience, she should come back on her own and admit her mistake…”

I stood on the other side of the hospital bed, watching Mommy’s worn yet gentle profile.

When she looked at Bella, the pain and tenderness in her eyes were so unmistakably real.

I had longed for that kind of tenderness countless times in my dreams, even if only once.

Now that I saw it with my own eyes, it was not for me.

A sharp ache rose in my chest.

So it turned out that even ghosts could feel sorrow.

I slowly reached out my hand, wanting to touch Mommy’s hair, loosened by exhaustion, wanting to tell her to stop scolding me, as I was never coming back.

My fingertips still passed straight through, causing not even a ripple.

Apart from making Bella sick and giving Mommy one more reason to complain about me, my death left nothing at all.

The next day, my parents discharged Bella from the hospital.

She looked drained and vacant.

As Daddy folded the princess dress, his fingertips brushed against a patch of stiff, dark red fabric at the cuff.

After a long moment, he called out to Mommy.

“Come take a look at this… is this… is this blood?”

Mommy leaned in.

After a while, her face turned deathly pale.

She grabbed Bella’s arm and began checking her frantically.

“Bella, tell Mommy—where are you hurt? Let Mommy see!”

Daddy also panicked and examined Bella’s other arm, even lifting her hair to check her scalp.

Bella only stared back with hollow, empty eyes, letting them move her as they pleased.

She didn’t cry, didn’t protest, and didn’t speak.

They found no wounds at all.

That blood did not belong to Bella.

I drifted over and looked at it as well.

That bloodstain must have been mine, from when that monster grabbed both Bella and me.

He had seized my hair and yanked it back violently.

In the burst of pain, I lost my balance, and my forehead slammed hard against a jutting corner of stone in the wall.

Warm liquid instantly blurred my left eye.

A few drops of blood splashed from my forehead and landed on the blue sleeve Bella was clutching tightly.

“Cassie!”

Bella’s piercing cry became the last clear sound in my memory.

After that, everything turned chaotic and dark.

I only remembered using my final strength to shove Bella toward the crowded plaza.

Then more fists fell, along with more pain.

When I became conscious again, I was floating lightly, crouched in front of the slice of cake Mommy had saved for me.

“It’s not Bella’s…”

Daddy’s eyes were blank, his voice trembling as he asked Mommy, “Then whose is it?”

Mommy didn’t answer.

She suddenly turned to look at Bella, who kept calling out my name over and over again.

She was clutching the water bottle, shaking uncontrollably.

Unlike the car ride to the hospital, filled with scolding and cursing, the return trip had been deathly silent.

I followed them into the residential compound.

Just as we reached the unit entrance, we ran into the neighbor’s college-aged son across the hall.

He was about to ride his bicycle out.

“Mr. and Mrs. Tesla? Bella’s okay now, right?”

He stopped his bike, a simple, honest smile on his face.

“Oh, right, happy belated birthday, Mrs. Tesla.

“Yesterday, we added a lot of mango to your cake. It was Cassie’s idea. She said it’s your favorite.”

I saw Mommy’s fingers twitch violently, her nails digging almost painfully into her own palm.

The young man continued, his tone light and teasing.

“Last month, Cassie helped out at my parents’ cake shop for an afternoon. She earned a little money and was so happy, said she wanted to buy you a birthday gift.

“She even asked my mom which hand cream was best for you, since your hands crack in winter.

“Cassie’s a really nice person. She’s so thoughtful, sensible, and efficient at work.”

My parents froze completely in place.

I was a little stunned, too.

I remembered that tube of hand cream.

I had hidden it in the smallest zippered pocket deep inside my backpack, like guarding a huge, sweet secret.

Every night after finishing my homework, I would secretly take it out and touch it.

I imagined, when Mommy received it, whether for just a fleeting moment, the corners of her mouth would curl upward.

Whether she would use those hands to gently rub my hair.

Even if only once.

But now, it probably still lay quietly in that backpack, alongside my body, long dead, tucked away in some dirty corner.

Mommy opened her mouth, probably wanting to argue like usual, but this time all the harsh words stuck in her throat.

For the first time, when the subject was me, she fell silent.

Back at home, the silence continued.

Without a word, Mommy grabbed the mop and began scrubbing the floor, pressing so hard it felt like she might puncture the wood.

Daddy didn’t turn on his computer.

He sat on the sofa, then suddenly looked up at Mommy.

“Cassie hasn’t come back all night.

“She’s only nine. Where could she be hiding?”

Mommy slammed the mop to the floor and ground her teeth as she growled.

“How would I know?”

“You spend all day on that stupid game! You don’t even care when our daughter runs off!”

“I don’t care?”

Daddy stood up abruptly, his voice rising.

“Every time I try to discipline her, who says I don’t do it right?

“Who was it that swapped the dress I bought, and said the older sister should always let the younger one have her way?”

“And you? Have you ever gone to a single-parent-teacher meeting with her? Have you ever washed a single piece of her clothing?”

Their shouting remained chaotic, each trying to prove their own innocence.

Adults were ridiculous, even better at playing dirty than children.

I sat on the chandelier, swinging my legs.

Luckily, I didn’t have to grow up.

“Last year, she had a fever and was in the hospital, and you played games outside the ward for three days!”

“And you? You took Bella to the children’s playground, leaving Cassie all alone in the hospital!”

Every word cut like a knife, yet it was as if they drew some sort of satisfaction from hurting each other.

Mommy suddenly stopped, panting, and looked around the house.

On the living room wall hung Bella’s first birthday photo, the coffee table was strewn with her toys, and even the fridge was plastered with her drawings.

Where were the traces of my existence?

Daddy followed her gaze and gradually went pale.

He opened his mouth, then slumped back onto the sofa, his voice barely audible.

“Have we… have we really not been good to Cassie?”

Yes.

They hadn’t been, for a long time.

Outside the window, the wail of sirens grew faintly, then louder, coming closer.

My parents instinctively moved to the window and looked down.

Mommy’s hand clutched Daddy’s arm tightly, her lips trembling.

“It can’t be, can it?”