"Today is your birthday, are you happy, sweetheart?"
Mom gently lit the candles for me, while my brother stood by with a cold sneer.
"Mom, did you forget that you had another daughter?"
Mom's hand froze, gripping the lighter tightly.
I knew she was grieving for my sister too.
Just as I was about to speak, my brother suddenly snapped.
He swiped the cake in front of me off the table, and the cream splattered all over the floor.
He shouted angrily, "How can you still eat? It's all your fault that Christine is gone!"
He pulled out an old photo from his pocket. In this photo, a gentle, shy girl smiled sweetly—It was a face that looked exactly like mine.
Pointing at the picture, his rage boiled over.
"Do you know that? It's because of you that Christine died! Why weren't you the one who died at that time?? Why are you still alive?"
He hurled the questions at me with venom, but I had no words to answer.
I had forgotten everything about what happened when I was ten. All I knew was that after that day, I lost a sister, but I couldn’t remember why she had died.
My brother said it was my fault. That's why he hated me.
He also hated that I looked exactly like her. Every time he saw my face, it reminded him of her.
"Enough. What happened back then wasn't Shirley's fault."
Mom stood in front of me, speaking calmly.
"Mom, don’t you remember? Christine..." My brother began to argue again, but Mom cut him off sharply.
"Enough. Pretend it never happened. Shirle is also your sister."
"I have no sister like that. My sister was only Christine Powers."
My brother screamed in anguish before turning and storming back to his room.
"Mom, did my sister really die because of me?"
For some reason, I realized that my eyes were already filled with tears.
Mom sighed and gently wiped away my tears, with her voice soft. "That’s not true. Don’t think about it."