Chapter 2

Less than thirty seconds after the post went live, my phone exploded.

The first call was from my mom.

“Alice! Have you lost your mind! Are you trying to ruin your brother?!”

“You need to, right now, immediately, delete that nonsense!”

I didn’t say anything, listening to her impotent rage on the other end.

“He’s your own brother! He’s worth hundreds of millions, and that reflects well on you too!”

“Are you trying to drag our entire family down with you? How could I have given birth to something so vicious?!”

Vicious?

I looked at the faint scar on my wrist.

That was three years ago. To get Justin the one million dollars he needed as start-up capital, I went to an underground blood clinic to sell my blood. The needle wasn't clean, and the infection left that scar.

Back then, Justin held the money, excitedly telling me,

“Sis, when I make it big, I’ll buy you the biggest house and make you the happiest sister in the world!”

My mom was wiping away tears beside him.

“Our Alice is just so sensible. Justin will surely never forget you once he’s successful.”

Now, he was successful, and he really hadn't forgotten me.

He repaid me by calling me a jinx and a pet mortician.

I let out a soft laugh.

My mom’s curses on the other end paused.

“What are you laughing at? You ungrateful wretch! Do you even have the nerve to laugh?”

“Mom,” I said calmly, “do you remember how Dad died?”

The phone line fell silent for a moment.

My dad died on a construction site. To earn extra money to buy Justin the latest game console, he worked thirty-six hours straight and fell from the scaffolding.

That one million dollars, it was the price of my father's life.

I hung up and blocked my mom’s number.

Immediately after, Justin’s SnapChat messages popped up, each one more aggressive than the last.

“Alice, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Are you pushing your luck? I’m telling you, delete that post and apologize right now, or I’ll make sure you can’t survive in this city!”

“You think that pathetic ID means anything? I can have my PR team tear you apart and brand you a deranged liar in minutes!”

I didn’t reply.

I clicked open the backend of the Soul Whisperer ID, looking at the millions of followers and the accreditation: "Top-tier pet behaviorist and compassionate pet end-of-life specialist."

Justin, do you really think I only have you?

I just never thought that whatever remaining affection we had would shatter so quickly, so ridiculously.