Chapter 1

Ten years ago, another girl and I were sold into the mountains.

To buy me time to escape, they broke both her legs.

After we were rescued, my parents took her in as their adopted daughter and treated her like their own.

Because of this, they neglected me—the one suffering from severe depression.

They said, "You only have depression, but Wendy lost both her legs because of you."

But Mom, Dad, you're both psychologists.

Don't you know that people with depression don't want to live?

My hand trembled uncontrollably as I clutched my phone.

The physical symptoms were getting worse—my bones itched unbearably from deep within.

I'd called Mom over a dozen times. She'd hung up every single one.

Her text message was ice cold too.

*Nina, today is Wendy's comingofage ceremony. Stop making a scene.*

My fingers unconsciously picked at the scabbed wound.

I felt no pain—only a strange, liberating pleasure.

I pressed my lips together and slowly typed a reply.

Okay, Mom. I'll make dinner and wait for you and Dad to come home.

They were the city's top psychologists with countless patients.

But they still made time in their busy schedules to attend Wendy's comingofage ceremony.

I wiped away my tears and staggered to my feet.

With practiced ease, I wrapped gauze around my wound and pulled on a longsleeved shirt that covered everything.

Layer after layer of fabric wrapped around my body felt awkward.

But over time, I'd gotten used to it.

I ordered lots of ingredients through a delivery app.

Dad's favorite sea bass, Mom's favorite beef, and Wendy's beloved salmon.

I washed the blood off the knife and tucked it back into the knife block, then grabbed another knife to prep the ingredients.

My phone buzzed a few times.

It was a voice message from Wendy.

She was as gentle as always.

"Nina, Mom and Dad both came to my comingofage ceremony. Why didn't you come?"

My thoughts felt sluggish.

It wasn't until an alarm with a reminder went off on my phone that I remembered why I hadn't gone.

Because today was my comingofage ceremony too.

Last night before bed, I'd been abnormally excited.

I imagined what gifts Mom and Dad might prepare for me.

Maybe receiving their gifts would give me just a little more will to live.

I lowered my eyes and looked at the family photo Wendy had sent me.

She sat in her wheelchair, her biological parents standing on the left, my mom and dad standing on the right.

The four of them held up a banner.

*Wishing Wendy health every year, worryfree always.*

I snapped back to reality and sent her my blessing and explanation.

"Wendy, happy birthday."

"I didn't come because today is my comingofage ceremony too. Can you tell Mom and Dad for me?"

"I'm waiting for them to come home for dinner."

Wendy didn't reply.

But I knew she must be crying from guilt right now, urging Mom and Dad to come home and be with me.

We'd survived together, grown up side by side for ten years, connected like flesh and bone.

No one understood each other better than we did.

There was only one thing I'd kept from her.

Her legs were broken, but she escaped that mountain village.

My soul, however, remained locked there forever, unable to find peace.

I shook my head, pushing away the chaotic thoughts, and focused on preparing the meal.

Half an hour later, the front door opened.

Several voices called my name in unison.

"Nina, we're home."

Wendy's choked voice stood out especially.

"Nina, I'm sorry, I didn't know today was your birthday too..."

I pressed down my trembling hands and poked my head out from the kitchen.

Mom and Dad wheeled Wendy to the kitchen doorway.

The sweet scent of chocolate cake wafted toward me.

Mom cleared her throat and handed the cake to me.

"Happy birthday, Nina."

The light in my eyes suddenly brightened.

But the moment I touched the cake, that brightness instantly turned to deathly silence.

I'd seen this cake before.

In the photos Wendy sent me, this was the top tier of the beautiful, elaborate fivelayer cake.