Chapter 3

My heart raced frantically. I felt breathing becoming increasingly difficult.

The instinct to survive made me use all my strength to crawl toward the door.

"Help... save... save me..."

The neighbors across the hall were still there. It was dinnertime—they must be home.

But just as I was about to knock on the door, I completely lost my strength.

Curled up on the ground, images from the past twenty years in this house suddenly flashed through my mind.

Ever since I could remember, I'd noticed that my sister was different from other people's sisters.

Not because of her genetic disease, but because she wasn't close to me.

Other sisters were intimately close and shared everything, but my sister didn't like me.

She even detested me.

From childhood, Mom had constantly lectured me to accommodate my sister in everything and take care of her.

She always told me, "Julia, you're the older sister. You're Mom's most well-behaved and sensible child. You need to take good care of your sister."

When I was nine, I persisted for a whole month and finally completed the task the teacher assigned of memorizing ancient poems.

I excitedly brought home a potted plant as my prize, wanting to tell Mom about it and have her praise me.

But she just angrily smashed the plant on the floor, shattering my hopes along with it.

"What's wrong with you, Julia? Plant mold can trigger Kayla's asthma! Are you doing this on purpose?!"

"No, the teacher gave this to me as a reward..."

"Still making excuses! Go stand in the corner and think about what you did. You're not eating until you figure it out!"

Mom carried my sister into the bedroom, leaving me alone to clean up the mess on the floor. My tears of grievance dripped into the wet soil.

After that, no plants were ever allowed in the house again.

Even the dance I'd loved since childhood—just because my sister said:

"When my sister dances, my heart races and I can't breathe."

Mom threw away the red dance shoes Dad had given me.

"You can't dance anymore from now on."

I stared wide-eyed in shock, unable to believe it.

Why could my sister play the piano she loved, but I couldn't dance what I loved?

"Piano cultivates temperament and calms the mind. It's good for stabilizing emotions."

"Julia, you're the older sister. You need to be understanding. Kayla can't be stimulated. Give in to her a little!"

No! Why?! This isn't fair!

"I'm sorry, Mom. It's my body that's not good enough. Don't blame Julia."

Kayla Hayes cried so hard she could barely breathe, looking utterly pitiful.

Mom's heart ached. She kept patting her back and no longer cared about my reaction.

From then on, I was no longer allowed to dance.

But Kayla sat on the piano bench in the living room, her fingers flying across the keys, melodious notes pouring out.

I sat slumped on the floor, listening in a daze.

It was "Canon"—such a happy melody, yet I felt only sadness.