The midday sun outside was fiercely hot, casting a stark, blinding glare, while cicadas screeched tirelessly.
The main hall was empty, and Amber, who should have been playing in the back room, was nowhere to be seen.
A sudden emptiness gripped my heart, and a fine, cold sweat broke out on my palms and soles as I frantically searched from room to room.
"What's all the noise about? I guess you're full and have the energy! Go wash the clothes." My mom, clutching her waist, emerged from the kitchen on the side, her eyebrows tightly furrowed.
A sudden realization thundered in my head. My hands, hanging by my sides, couldn't stop trembling. I almost collapsed to the ground, swallowing hard. "Where's Amber?"
My mom passed by me, paused, and looked down with a gaze that held no evasion. "Dead," she said, then averted her gaze and stepped into the inner room. "You're just despicable, not destined for better."
"Go wash the clothes, or you won't have dinner tonight."
Her voice floated from the inner room, airy and tinged with a hint of pride, a hint of relief.
Despite our poor home, I thought we were always a family, that they at least loved us, though they loved my brother more.