Chapter 4
“You didn’t go home all afternoon.”
“Claire Green, are you really going back with this man?“–
“You’ll just follow a stranger? Are you out of your mind!?”
My throat was so tight I couldn’t get a word out.
He was so agitated.
As if the one who’d been desperate to cut ties with me this afternoon–who’d imagined I’d lost my memory and was eager to be rid of me–wasn’t him.
Jasper Green grew more unhinged when I stayed silent. He reached out, grabbing Frederick Austin by the collar.
“This is kidnapping! I could call the police right now!”
Frederick didn’t budge. Meeting Jasper’s furious glare, he kept his voice calm. “She’s an adult.”
Jasper’s hand clenched tighter, his anger burning hotter. I was terrified he’d shove Frederick–his face was so pale, he looked like a single gust might knock him over.
I shoved at Jasper, angry now. “Let go of him!”
People were starting to ståre.
Jasper had always been proud, always kept up appearances. After a tense moment, he finally released Frederick with a bitter sneer.
“She says you’re her brother, right? Fine. Do you even know her name?”
“Claire Green,” I shot back immediately.
Jasper nearly exploded. “I was asking him–not you! Claire Green, keep pretending! You know perfectly well he doesn’t even know your name!”
I looked at him, voice steady. “You should get your head checked.”
Frederick and I walked away.
Behind us, Jasper’s laughter was cold and sharp:
“You think faking amnesia erases what you did? That you can keep living with yourself, after killing Mom and Dad?”
My steps quickened, almost without thinking.
Soon, I didn’t dare listen to another word behind me.
I left the mall in a hurry–nearly running away.
On the curb, Frederick and I hailed a cab together. Home, I thought–except it wasn’t really my
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Chapter 4
home. It was Frederick Austin’s place.
I sat in the backseat; my head was a storm of voices I’d heard a thousand times.
Claire Green, that’s what you did. You killed Mom and Dad…
Claire Green, why are you even alive…
Claire Green, it should have been you…
A tissue appeared beside me.
Only then did I realize I was crying.
I took the tissue and, through blurred vision, glanced at the man beside me.
“I regret it too,” I murmured.
He waited a moment before answering, gentle as ever. “I know.”
I wanted to laugh, but nothing came out.
What did he know? What did it mean to a stranger who’d barely met me?
Still, I couldn’t stop crying. For a moment, it was as if Jasper himself had answered me–after all these years, finally willing to listen.
I wiped my face, soaking the tissue through. Another one appeared.
He didn’t ask why I was crying, didn’t ask if I remembered anything. Didn’t ask if I remembered
at all.
He just sat with me, quietly.
I cried until I was spent, then leaned back against the seat and drifted into sleep.
In my dream, my mother stroked my hair and whispered,
“Claire, don’t cry. I’ll scold Jasper for you, all right?”
I’d been born premature, barely four pounds. I nearly died in the incubator before my first month was up.
My parents cherished me so much–showered me with all their love and care from the very
start.
Every birthday, they planned weeks ahead. No matter how busy work was, or how far away they were, they never missed a school event, a holiday, an anniversary.
They hired a nanny just for me, to drive me to school and make sure I ate well. They’d let me skip class for a trip to the amusement park, then hire the gentlest tutor to help me catch up.
For years, I was proud of that love.
Until I was seven. Jasper’s birthday.
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Chapter 4
That afternoon, I bought him a present after school.
When I got home, I found him alone in his bedroom, eating a cupcake barely bigger than his palm.
Mom and Dad were on a business trip. The housekeeper had made dinner, then left.
Suddenly, I realized–year after year, the only one who remembered Jasper’s birthday in this house, besides himself, was me.
That night, I cried for him, angry and helpless.
He dropped his cake and rushed to comfort me.
“It’s all right, Claire. As long as you’re healthy, that’s all I want–just like Mom and Dad.”
He didn’t just say it–he meant it.
Since I could remember, relatives had always told me how, when I was fighting for my life in that incubator, Jasper had cried harder than anyone. That’s why Mom and Dad treasured me so much.
And Jasper too.
But he was a child as well. He had birthdays, too..
He wasn’t born to be ignored, or to be told his sister mattered more.
Still, year after year, Mom and Dad forgot.
Even on his eighteenth birthday, nothing changed.
They sent him to extra classes first thing in the morning, then rushed off to another business trip.
It was school break, so Mom insisted I go with them–she packed my suitcase, fussing over me. I exploded.
“I’m not going! I hate you–I never want to go anywhere with you again!”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears. Dad just sighed, telling the housekeeper to take care of me while they left.
I stayed in my room, planning Jasper’s birthday party.
I used my own savings to book a banquet room at a hotel, created a group chat, invited all our friends.
If the grown–ups didn’t care about Jasper, I did.
That evening, I sent a message in the group chat, then picked up my phone to call Jasper and tell him about the surprise.
That’s when the house started to shake.
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Chapter 4
The chandelier above me crashed down, striking my head.
All I saw was a blur of red. I don’t remember what happened next.
I fell, desperate to crawl away, but couldn’t move.
And then–Mom and Dad, suddenly there, holding me tight beneath the collapsing roof.
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