Chapter 1

It all started with one sentence from Isabella.

"Let's climb the snowy mountain together."

Because of that, my mother forced me—despite a raging fever—to go with them.

Halfway up the slope, both Isabella and I began showing signs of altitude sickness.

But when it came to the last canister of oxygen, my mother didn't hesitate. Ignoring my worsening condition, she handed it to Isabella, whose symptoms were far milder.

When the mountain rescue team finally arrived, I begged my mother to let me go down first—desperate, barely able to breathe.

Her face twisted in disgust.

"There isn't space for everyone in the vehicle," she snapped. "Stop pretending to be sick just to get attention. Don't delay your sister's treatment."

And so, I died on that snow-covered mountain.

The end of a life unloved.

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The heavy snow quickly buried my body. I watched as my soul slowly peeled away from the frozen corpse, then was forcibly drawn into a beam of white light—transported down to the hospital at the foot of the mountain.

Back by my mother's side, though now invisible to her.

I let out a bitter laugh. What did it matter whether she could see me? She never really did.

"Isabella, how do you feel? Still dizzy? Are you in pain?"

Mother sat by her bedside, eyes full of worry, as if she wished she could suffer in her place.

The door slammed open. Father rushed in holding a steaming bowl of soup. He hurried to Isabella's bedside, breathless.

"Isabella, are you feeling better? Mrs. MacLeod from the lodge made chicken soup. Come on, drink it while it's hot."

"She only has mild symptoms," Dr. Patel said after a brief exam. "Rest should be enough. No need to worry."

"I'm fine, really. I just…" Isabella paused to cough lightly. She glanced at our parents, their faces twisted with concern, and her eyes gleamed with barely hidden satisfaction.

Playing the innocent, she casually asked, "Where's Sophie? The snow's gotten worse. I'm so worried something might've happened to her…"

She made as if to rise from the bed, but Mother quickly stopped her.

"Sophie's always been a liar," she spat, her voice sharp with contempt. "She's been pulling stunts like this since she was a child to get my attention. She knew you weren't well, and she still tried to fight you for the oxygen. How selfish can she be?"

"And threatening us with her life? Hah. I'd like to see if she actually dies this time."

I stood frozen, staring at her. I reached up to touch my cheek. Wet.

Well, she got her wish. I really did die this time.

All because Isabella wanted a picturesque family climb in the Highlands. And Mother, despite my fever, forced me to go along.

Before we set off, I struggled to stay upright. I watched Mother tear open a pack of hand warmers and carefully stick them onto Isabella's coat.

Father, afraid of heights, didn't go up himself. But he wrapped his own scarf around Isabella's neck and handed her the climbing poles he had prepared days in advance. Anything to keep her warm, to ease her burden.

Maybe Mother was in a rare good mood that morning. Halfway up the slope, for the first time ever, she gave the bread to me instead of Isabella.

I was so shocked that I could hardly believe it.

I took the bread with trembling hands. Just as I was about to eat, a wave of dizziness hit me. My throat tightened like it was being squeezed shut.

"Mom… I can't breathe."

Just then, Isabella cried out, too. Mother ripped open her pack and pulled out the last oxygen canister without hesitation, handing it to Isabella.

Even after the rescue team arrived, she claimed there wasn't enough room and left me behind.

But I knew Isabella wasn't sick. She had snuck off to bars more than once while our parents were away on business trips. Her body was fine.

Only our parents still believed her act. Blinded by love, they never doubted her.

I always knew I couldn't compare to her. I never dared to hope for my mother's love.

But I never thought she'd leave me alone on that mountain, that she could ignore me so completely, even as I pleaded for help.

I should've known better. I was born to save Isabella's life. Even my death had to serve her.

What I didn't expect was to witness—after death—just how gentle and kind they were to her.

It was unbearable.

Watching Isabella now, basking in their concern, she looked even more pleased with herself. She feigned a pitiful expression.

"Mom, Dad, it's all because I'm not healthy. You've always had to worry about me. Maybe Sophie resented you all these years because of that…"

"If I were as strong as her, maybe she wouldn't have hated me so much."