Tanya collapsed into my dad’s arms, sobbing,
“Don’t blame Bella! I know I’m not her real sister. It’s only fair if she doesn’t want to help me.”
“Brother, I guess it’s just my fate. Maybe in our next lives, we’ll be real siblings.”
My dad frowned, his voice sharp with disappointment.
“Bella, since when did you become so selfish?”
“It’s just blood, not an organ! You can just eat something to make up for it!”
But he didn’t think about the fact that my mom was already eight months pregnant.
Tanya eventually recovered fully.
But my mom didn’t make it through childbirth.
My dad was devastated, wracked with guilt, and cried until he fainted several times.
Tanya comforted him,
“Brother, you have to take care of yourself. Let me look after you and the baby.”
“Bella only ever made you sad. But me? I’d never hurt you like that.”
And so, a white sheet covered my mom’s body, while a wedding veil adorned Tanya.
But my dad didn’t know that my mom’s death wasn’t just a tragic accident.
There was something more sinister at play.
In my ghost mom’s version of the story, my dad was just too soft-hearted, letting Tanya weasel her way into our lives.
But even as a kid, I knew better. He wasn’t kind or blind.