Chapter 2

I opened my eyes and saw myself lying pale and still in the bathtub.

My face floated beneath the surface, eyes half-open, staring up at the sunflowers on the shower curtain.

So this was what I looked like dead.

The front door slammed in the living room.

"Ella, we're home!" Lena's cheerful voice carried from the entryway, followed by Mom's tired reminder: "Put your shoes away properly."

In the living room, my parents and Lena had just walked in.

Mom carried a cake box, wearing a smile I hadn't seen in ages—a real smile, not one of those forced, exhausted ones she'd been wearing lately. Dad had his arm around my sister's shoulders, and he was smiling too.

Dad paused while taking off his coat, noticing the pill stains and glass shards scattered across the living room floor. "What happened here?"

Mom set the cake on the table without turning around. "What do you think happened? Ella threw one of her tantrums this morning. We're not dealing with that today—today is our Lena's big day!"

"Ella's almost eighteen," Dad's voice carried that familiar exhaustion. "When is she going to grow up?"

I approached him, desperately shaking my head. "Dad, that's not what happened..."

I tried to take his hand the way I used to when I was little, but my fingers passed straight through his body. I couldn't touch anything.

"Ella!" Lena bounded toward my bedroom door. "Ella! Come out! Guess what award I got?"

Silence from behind the door.

"Mom," Lena called back, "is sis sleeping?"

"Stop yelling," Mom's voice drifted from the kitchen, still carrying that happy note. "Ella's just pouting. Let's eat cake first—you're the star today!"

Dad opened the cake box to reveal Lena's favorite: chocolate cherry cake with "Congratulations Graduate" written across the top in purple frosting.

"Today we celebrate your graduation!" Dad stuck a single candle in the center.

"Make a wish," Mom said gently.

When Lena closed her eyes to make her wish, my parents watched with the tenderness reserved for something precious.

"What did you wish for, graduate?" Mom asked softly.

Lena's eyes lit up. "I hope me and Ella can go to—"

"Don't tell," Dad patted her shoulder. "It won't come true if you say it."

I stood beside the dining table, watching them. The louder their laughter grew, the heavier my heart felt.

I remembered how my birthdays were never pure joy—there were always so few candles on my cake.

Because every birthday felt like a countdown, marking how much time I had left.

When they cut the cake, Lena insisted on the biggest slice, the one topped with three cherries. "This is for Ella! She loves cherries, even though the doctor says she can't have too many."

She carried the plate to my bedroom door and knocked gently. "Sis, come eat cake! It's chocolate cherry!"

Still no answer.

The smile slowly faded from Lena's face. She walked back to the table, plate still in hand, and whispered, "Ella won't talk to me."

Dad suddenly stood up and snatched the plate from her hands.

The cake hit the garbage can with a wet thud.

"Then starve!" He roared. "You're so fucking self-centered, you had to poison Lena's special day with your jealousy!"