Chapter 6
Today, news of Oscar’s arrest spread throughout the entire city.
It turned out he was my killer. Soon after, police knocked on our door to take Sonia away. Oscar had confessed, saying that Sonia had instigated him to kill me.
He said Sonia loved him but couldn’t marry him without money. So she thought of my fiancé and our thriving company.
The best solution was to make me disappear from this world completely, then she would marry Yoseph, divorce him to claim the assets, and run away with Oscar.
They staged my suicide, but their plan had flaws. Oscar became lustful when he saw me, and police found Oscar’s DNA inside my body.
Most importantly, Sonia’s cancer was fake–everything was just preparation to make me disappear.
Sonia was handcuffed as onlookers cursed and spat at her. My parents watched through tears, looking at this ruthless daughter who would kill her own sister for personal gain. They opened their mouths but didn’t know what to say.
In their hearts, their second daughter had always been so sweet and lovely–when had she become so cold–blooded?
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“Mom! Dad! Save me! Write a letter of forgiveness—I’m all you have left now that my sister’s dead! I can’t die!”
Sonia suddenly knelt on the ground, so terrified she lost control of her bladder. So she was afraid of death too, knowing how precious life was.
My mother staggered to her knees, gently embracing her, then slapping her face over and over while repeating: “A life for a life!”
Sonia, who had just been trembling with fear, suddenly pushed my mother down and began laughing maniacally at the sky. Deranged and obsessed–that described her perfectly.
Sonia caressed her belly, smiling smugly: “With this child, I won’t die! My looks, my personality, even my grades–what didn’t I have that was better than Freya’s? Why did she get such a wonderful husband? Why could she have both career and love? Why should I have to marry some poor guy and live in poverty? As long as Freya was dead! As long as I could be better than her, what did it matter if I died?”
The night Sonia was taken away, my parents‘ hair turned white overnight. In just a few months, family members had died or been arrested. My mother cried until she damaged her eyes, her mental state deteriorated, and all day long she kept saying she was sorry to Freya.
Autumn rain drizzled down, the morning wind carried a slight
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chill, everything was withering, and even the resilient grass was bent over by dewdrops.
My parents pulled themselves together, dressed formally, and busied themselves with preparations. Today was my funeral.
In the memorial hall, relatives and friends came to pay their respects, offering flowers for
in a long time, also showne. Yoseph, who hadn’t appeared
up, but he’d lost his former vigor. He was much thinner, with sunken eyes, disheveled bangs covering his eyes, looking melancholy and dejected, lighting one cigarette after another.
He never dared look toward where my urn was placed. The memorial hall was decorated entirely in white fabric, yet it reddened his eyes.
He was filled with regret–regretting agreeing to help Sonia fulfill her ridiculous dying wish, regretting not cherishing me, repeatedly being intimate with other women. Regretting that we could have grown old together, but now were separated by life and death.
Someone cursed him from behind, but he showed no reaction. In his view, everything they said was right–he was indeed scum.
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