Chapter 1

My twin sister Kayla inherited my dad's asthma.

When I was eight, my father died suddenly from an asthma attack, and my mother poured all her attention into Kayla.

Mom would always lecture me earnestly: "Kayla is sick. You're the older sister—you need to take care of her."

But even though I was the older sister, I was only three minutes older than my younger sister.

At twenty years old, the moment I got home, Mom slapped me across the face for no reason.

Kayla, clutching her chest with a pale face, leaned against the doorframe. Mom pointed at a bouquet of carnations on the table and scolded me harshly.

"You know Kayla can't handle pollen, and you still brought flowers home!"

She slapped me again. Then she helped the gasping Kayla walk out the door.

I tried to follow them, but suddenly felt my throat constrict and couldn't breathe.

It turned out that during last month's physical exam, the doctor said I might have asthma too.

The cake in my hands fell to the floor.

I curled up on the ground in agony, my consciousness gradually fading.

Mom, the carnations are paper. The birthday cake is for you.

But I don't want to love you anymore.