My parents and brother wanted me to die, but when I did, they regretted it 2

Posted by Admind, ? Views, Released on May 9, 2025

I fell to my knees, using my sleeve to desperately wipe it clean.

As I wiped, I apologized, “Dad, Mom, I’m sorry… it’s your unfilial daughter’s fault, even in heaven, you can’t be at peace…”

“It’s my fault, how could this happen…”

“I’m sorry, truly sorry!”

My hand rubbed the stone until the skin broke, staining my light clothes red and dirty.

Jasper returned with a bucket and cloth to help me clean.

The rain poured harder, drenching me as Jasper struggled to carry me down the hill.

I am the true heiress the Beckett family found.

But when I returned 17, there was already a fake heiress my age, Adeline.

gathering all the Beckett family’s love.

Adeline, what a lovely

Before I went missing, I wa

Called Pearl Beckett, the apple

of

my

parents‘ eye.

In the four years since I returned, no one remembered to

ange my surname back to Beckett.

I continued using the name my foster parents gave me, Cora Liu.

My foster parents treated me well. Unable to have children, they thought finding me was a blessing,

They said they would always cherish me as a treasure.

But when the school’s blood donation uploaded my DNA to the network,

biological parents, who had been separated for 13 years, found

me.

My foster parents still let me go back. They believed I could gain better educational resources in the Beckett family,

At least I wouldn’t need to work while studying.

But now, I’m going to die, brain tumor, terminal stage.

Even my foster parents are being humiliated like this, I feel my heart and guts are being viciously squeezed.

They don’t love me, and I don’t want to love them anymore.

I just want to live for myself at the end of my life.

Tomorrow is the painless surgery, but why must I witness my beloved foster parents being so insulted?

My foster mother died when I was 12, and my foster father passed away unexpectedly last year.

Can’t the deceased even leave quietly?

My impressions of Mr. and Mrs. Beckett from childhood are vague.

I only remember my brother Asher, who is five years older, taking me to the amusement park.

He told me to wait for him to buy ice cream.

I waited from morning till night, but my brother never returned.

In the end, it was the theme park’s cleaning lady, my foster mother, who found me and took me home,

12:16 PM

<

On the first day back at the Beckett house, Adeline cried and said to me, “I don’t want anything. I know I’ve taken my sister’s place all these years, but I just want to stay with Dad, Mom, and Brother. Please, sister, don’t drive me away.”

And what did my brother Asher, who lost me, do? He pushed me aside,

“Adeline, no one will drive you away, nor will anyone dare. You are my sister, my only sister.” Asher held Adeline tightly, glaring at me.

It was as if I were a villain trying to tear their family apart.

My biological mother, with red eyes, looked at Adeline and choked out to me, “Cora, when you went missing, your mother went crazy, so your father brought Adeline home. Adeline accompanied me through the days and nights without you.”

When I turned to look at Adeline, she smirked at me provocatively: “Mom, let’s not talk about this now. Let sister stay in my room tonight, the guest room isn’t ready.”

Adeline emphasized “guest room.”

“How can that be, Adeline, you’re picky about beds. You won’t sleep well if you change rooms.” My mom quickly said, but catching herself, stopped abruptly, realizing I was still there.

For the next four years, I lived in the guest room next to the nanny’s room on the first floor and never moved again.

I don’t want to think about it anymore. I can’t think about it.

The first chemotherapy session, the pain made cold sweat stick to my face, dripping down.

The pain was excruciating, and the doctor asked if I had any family with me. I didn’t answer.

But when I saw Jasper at the door of the operating room, I felt somewhat relieved. I wasn’t alone.

Being alone is too lonely. I needed someone with me, at least for this last journey, someone to help bury me.

Over the next four years, I stayed in the guest room next to the nanny’s room on the first floor and never moved again. I tried to stop thinking about it; I couldn’t afford to dwell on it any longer.