They even called each other sisters.
But no one could have imagined that the timid, insecure younger sister—who even stuttered when speaking—would climb into her elder sister’s husband’s bed.
When I got home, everything was smashed to pieces.
My mother stood in the middle of the room, uncontrollably. A clear, gruesome five-finger marks were printed on her cheek. Meanwhile, my father was holding the woman tightly in his arms.
“Let’s divorce. You can have everything. I only want Emily.”
Kelly, who was standing next to me, panicked and tried to pull Emily Summer's hand.
But my mother slapped her twice.
So, I shoved my mother and watched her fall to the floor.
She stared at me in disbelief. At that time, while crying, I also said the cruelest words.
"Mom, why did you hit Kelly?"
The memories jumbled chaotically, frozen in a small photo in my hand.
That year, after divorcing Kelly, I burned all the things related to her, but I didn't expect there was still one left here.
Just as I was about to toss it into the trash, a knock suddenly sounded at the door.
I thought it was Candice. She used to visit at this time of year, so I opened the door.