On the day my boyfriend and I got married, my older sister killed herself.
She slit her wrists at home, and by the time she was taken to the hospital, they nearly failed to save her.
My whole family blamed me for her suicide,
saying I’d stolen her identity and enjoyed ten years of wealth and privilege, and now I was trying to steal her man, too.
Even my boyfriend said, “Shi Nian, why did you provoke your sister?”
They forced me to kneel before her and apologize, bowing my head and admitting I was wrong. They even demanded to know why I didn’t just die.
But later, I really did die. My body lay cold before them,
and they wept, clutching my corpse and sobbing,
saying I was their biological daughter after all, saying they regretted everything.
But it was already too late.
