By the time I found my way home, Ravenna had already been living there for 18 years.

On the first day, Mom and Dad wouldn't even let me through the door.

Mom said I was dirty and probably carrying a virus. Dad said I was a scammer.

However, the DNA results forced them to admit that I was their biological daughter.

An investigation revealed that Ravenna and I had been born in the same hospital and mistakenly switched at birth.

But her mother had died in childbirth, and no records of her father could be found.

Leo tried to comfort me, saying Mom and Dad were just overly suspicious because of their professions, but they still loved me.

But I knew I had always been an outsider in this family.

Soon, the police released their findings on the case.

The victim was a young woman, around 20 years old. Her body bore signs of abuse and her face had been smashed in with a blunt object, leaving it unrecognizable.

She had suffered 40 stab wounds. All ten of her fingernails had been forcibly removed.

There was soot in her mouth and nose and her eyes were shut tight. Traces of an accelerant were found on her body—she had been burned alive after being doused in it.

Dad lit a cigarette. He only smoked when he was in a terrible mood.

"This murderer is ruthless. It won't be easy to catch them. But the landlord upstairs insists on waiting for the killer to be caught so they can get compensation from them."

Even in death, I was just another annoyance to my parents.

At that moment, Leo reminded them, "She was 20 years old, the same age as Raven and Dani. We should tell them to be careful."

Dad cut him off impatiently. "Raven's obedient. Danica is a wild child from the countryside. She's completely uncontrollable. I haven't seen her in a week."

Leo knew how our parents had always treated me, so he chose not to argue.

Noticing that Mom was clutching her stomach with a pained expression, he quickly changed the subject.

"Your stomach hurts again? You haven't had an episode in years—why is it acting up now?"

Mom waved him off. "It's nothing. Probably just stomach pain from skipping breakfast. It happens when I get too busy at the hospital. A few years ago, Danica used to make me breakfast or sandwiches every morning…"

She trailed off mid-sentence, stunned.

The wild child they always talked about had always cared about their health since coming home.

Leo immediately followed up, "Danica is a good kid. Every time you worked overtime, she'd ask me if you had eaten. If you hadn't, she'd cook and bring you food right away."

Mom and Dad clearly had no idea. They had always assumed Leo was the one ordering takeout for them.

That was because they made me leave the food at the security booth instead of letting me inside.

But instead of acknowledging it, they brushed it off.

"She only did that for show," Dad scoffed. "Two days ago, it was Raven's birthday, and she didn't even come home. She was just throwing a tantrum and refusing to come back.

"The last time Raven saw her, it was at some shady bar. She was probably out fooling around. Honestly, I'd rather she were dead than out there embarrassing us with whatever she's doing."

Even after hearing that all those late-night meals they ate were made by me, they still refused to acknowledge anything good about me.

In their eyes, treating Raven poorly was the greatest crime of all.

But Mom, Dad—I wasn't out partying at a bar. I was working there to earn money to buy Raven's birthday gift.

If Raven hadn't gone drinking that night, she never would've noticed me washing glasses behind the counter.

And the wild child you speak of… It was not that I didn't want to come home.

It was just that I could never do that again.

Because I had already died—on the same day you and Raven were celebrating her birthday.

I was right in front of you. And you didn't even recognize me.

Mom and Dad were deeply concerned about the progress of the investigation—after all, catching the murderer was directly tied to how soon they'd receive compensation.

So, Leo contacted a police officer he knew and got a copy of the case report.

They flipped through the photos—crime scene images, pictures of the corpse. My charred body was exposed right in front of them.

As a firefighter, Dad immediately identified that the fire had started from the body itself, and he knew that the accelerant used could reach temperatures of up to 750℉ in an instant.

Mom pointed at the photo, detailing all the suffering I had endured before death.

I knew—Mom had always wanted to be a forensic doctor. But when she became pregnant with me, she felt that coming home to hold me after handling corpses in the hospital wasn't right, so she gave up that dream.

I once overheard her holding Ravenna and saying, "Being a forensic doctor is a great profession. If you ever want to become one in the future, I'll be the first to support you."

I watched as Ravenna smiled and nodded at Mom, then turned away and brushed off her shoulder in disgust.

That was the first time I ever laid a hand on my sister. I twisted her arm. Mom had given up her dream for me. I wouldn't allow Ravenna to treat her that way.

In the end, I was punished. I was made to kneel in the snow for three hours.

If Leo hadn't come home and taken me inside, Mom and Dad would have left me out there all night.

Now, looking at their pained and regretful expressions as they examined my corpse, I let out a bitter smile.

They seemed devastated over a lifeless body in a photograph, but if they knew it was me, would they still feel this way?

After all, they had always said it would be better if I died somewhere far away, rather than embarrassing them.

Mom turned the page and saw the scar on my foot—an indentation from when I had stepped into a hunting trap back on the farm in the countryside.

I remembered on the day I came home, Mom wouldn't let me inside with my dirty clothes.

I had to strip down at the door and wait for her to disinfect me. Only after putting on new clothes was I allowed to enter the house.

That was the first time she saw my scar.

She was a doctor who had seen countless gruesome injuries. Yet when she saw mine, the only thing she said was, "Disgusting. From now on, no skirts in this house. Always wear socks—I don't want Raven to see it and get scared."

From then on, I never wore a skirt again.

Maybe—just maybe—Mom would recognize me from that scar?

But she simply flipped the page and said indifferently, "An old wound."

Just then, a phone rang. It was Ravenna's voice—her pre-recorded ringtone for Mom's phone.

There were still many pages left in the report, but Mom immediately tossed it aside and picked up the call.

Her voice was impossibly gentle. At that moment, the murder case, the compensation—everything was forgotten.

The charred, nameless corpse upstairs could never compare to her precious daughter.

"Hello? Raven, sweetheart, what's the matter?"

"Tomorrow is Family Day at your school?"

"Of course, we will be there! Leo is busy, though—he won't make it."

Ravenna's voice rang sweetly from the speaker. "I know! That's why you're the best! Will Danica come? My classmates don't believe I have an older sister—they say she's never visited me.

"But it's okay if she doesn't want to. I know she doesn't like me. I stole your love from her."

Mom and Dad had always been indifferent to me, at most just annoyed by my presence.

But Ravenna—she was cruel. From the very first day I returned home, she had watched me like a wary predator.

She bullied me whenever no one else was around. Yet in front of Mom and Dad, she would cry like a helpless little girl, pretending to long for my affection.

And as always, Mom and Dad wouldn't bother figuring out what actually happened.

It was always my fault.

Sure enough, the moment they heard Raven's slightly aggrieved voice, they immediately defended her.

"That's right—how dare she ignore your calls? I'll find her right now! If she doesn't come, I'll cut ties with her. From now on, you'll be our only daughter."

Ravenna finally laughed in satisfaction.

Before hanging up, she even remembered to remind them to tell me to be careful—playing the role of the concerned, affectionate sister until the very end.

After the call ended, Mom and Dad exchanged pleased smiles.

"She really is the daughter we raised—kind and considerate. So what if she's not our biological child? She's even more thoughtful than our real daughter. I should never have let Danica in when she came back."

Maybe because I grew up on a farm in the countryside, I had to learn many things about their world from scratch.

But to Mom, that just made me seem crude and unsophisticated. Having a daughter like me was an embarrassment.

That was why they never let me change my last name.

Whenever someone asked, they always said they only had one daughter.

I wondered whenever they got worried about Ravenna's safety, did they ever think that I was a girl as well?

That I, too, could be in danger.

I wondered what they would do if they ever found out that their beloved, obedient daughter, Ravenna, played a part in my murder.

That weekend, Ravenna came back with photos from the Family Day at school.

It was a truly enviable family portrait.

Aside from the annual Christmas photo that Leo insisted on taking, Mom and Dad never took pictures with me alone.

Every year at my school's Family Day, they would refuse to attend, always using work as an excuse. They were afraid of people finding out that someone as crude as me was their daughter.

I used to think it was because they didn't like my grades, so I worked hard and got straight A's. Later, I realized—it wasn't about my grades.

They just didn't like me.

Outside, the blackened exterior of the building was being repaired.

As Dad watched the workers repainting the walls, he suddenly asked, "Honey, I called Danica again today, but she still won't pick up. She hasn't even responded to Leo's messages as well. Do you think something really happened to her? Should we report it to the police?"

Mom cut him off impatiently. "Don't bring up Danica when Raven is home. You know how sensitive she is—it'll upset her.

"Danica is just hiding. She's trying to make us worry and go looking for her. Don't fall for it. Once she runs out of money, she'll come back on her own. Stop sending her living expenses, dear."

"What? I thought you were the one sending her money?" Dad looked at Mom in confusion.

"No. She never asked since last year, so I stopped giving her any. I thought you were giving it to her."

"I didn't either. So, Danica hasn't been getting living expenses for a year? Then how has she been getting by and still managed to buy my medicine?"

A serious expression crossed Dad's face as if something had just clicked in his mind.

"She became an adult last year. Maybe she found a part-time job? If she were still living in the countryside, she'd probably have started working already. There's no need to worry about her."

How had I been surviving this past year?

Besides attending school, I worked at a café in the afternoon, washed glasses at a bar at night, and delivered milk in the early morning.

That was the only way I could afford to live—and to buy Dad's medicine.

Actually, every time Mom and Dad sent me living expenses, Ravenna would get seniors to corner me in the bathroom and take the money from me.

At first, I went home crying and told my parents.

Dad would say, "Why would they rob you and not anyone else?"

And then, Mom would say, "Are you trying to scam us out of more money?"

Ravenna then would put on her usual innocent act and say, "Mom, Dad, don't scold Danica. I saw her go into a bar with someone—maybe she got drunk and someone stole her money. Just take some from mine and give it to her. I don't need much anyway."

After that, Mom and Dad never sent me money again. And I never asked.

The sound of the front door opening broke the silence—Leo was home.

He was carrying a large cake. A mango-flavored one—my favorite.

Ravenna saw it and ran over excitedly.

"Leo, you're back! I missed you so much! Thank you for getting me a cake! Even though I like strawberries better, anything from you is my favorite!"

Mom also walked over happily, but when she saw the cake, her tone turned slightly irritated. "You're her brother—how could you not know Raven's favorite flavor? Why did you buy the wrong one?"

Still taking off his shoes, Leo lifted the cake high above his head, keeping it out of Ravenna's reach. "This cake isn't for Raven. It's for Dani. Today is her birthday—October 3rd."

A brief silence filled the room.

Ravenna pouted and buried herself in Mom's arms. "But, Danica isn't even coming home. Maybe she doesn't want to celebrate with us."

Mom was just about to agree and criticize me for not coming home when Dad suddenly spoke, "October 3rd… Honey, that date sounds so familiar."

He walked over to the storage room and took out the case report, flipping to a photo of a pendant necklace.

"Look—is this it?"

Mom stared at the numbers engraved on the pendant, a trace of surprise in her eyes. She seemed to recall that that was my birthday.

Leo immediately set the cake down and said, "October 3rd, 2015—that was the day Dani came home. Did you forget? Did you mention this when the police questioned you?"

Mom and Dad remained silent.

Growing anxious, Leo dialed the police.

The moment he mentioned the date on the pendant, the officer on the other end of the line responded, "Perfect timing—we just found the engraver."