Sacrifsatisfied My Last Life for Her Yet They Wept for Me

When Grace woke up, she didn't thank me. She cried and told our parents that I had pushed her into the path of the car. She claimed I did it to punish her for telling the "truth" about the brakes.

"Big Sister told me she can revive me anyway, so I wouldn't die!" Grace had screamed, pointing a finger at me with absolute certainty.

My face went numb with shock. I demanded to know why she was lying.

But Dad just looked at me with eyes like ice. "She is a ten-year-old child. Is she capable of such a lie?"

Mom roared in fury. "Michelle Fox! You rely on this System to act lawless!"

"If we don't discipline you now, you'll end up rotting in prison!"

"You like using revival so much? Fine! I'll let you use it until you drop!"

From that day on, I never saw kindness in their eyes again. Their control became suffocating. The slightest mistake earned me harsh verbal abuse. Whenever Grace got sick or scraped a knee, they forced me to use a revival on her.

I held a thousand grievances in my heart, but I had no way to voice them.

I fell silent. Eliana didn't pry. She just hugged me gently and patted my back.

Her embrace was warm. It reminded me of how Mom used to hold me when I was sick as a child.

That memory gave me strength—the strength to fulfill my final wish.

I wanted to say a proper goodbye to Dad and Mom. Then, I would find a quiet place to die alone.

As I reached the front door of our house, my parents were just walking out.

When Mom saw me, her expression darkened instantly. She pulled the car keys from her purse and threw them at me. They hit my chest with a dull thud.

"Do you have no shame?" she hissed. "Does this family starve you? Do we deny you water?"

"You actually ran to the streets to act pitiful in front of a sanitation worker? Begging her to buy you porridge?"

"You're trying to make people think we abuse you, aren't you?" She stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "Michelle, I didn't realize your scheming ran this deep."

The barrage of accusations hit me like physical blows.

How did they know Eliana bought me porridge? Did they have someone following me? Was I bugged?

Years ago, to find "evidence" that I was harming Grace, they had installed surveillance cameras in every room of the house. They had even hired a private investigator.

I had naively thought the investigator would prove my innocence. Instead, when he found nothing, my parents accused me of being a master manipulator, claiming I was "hiding deeply."

During that time, I felt like I was living in a glass cage. Watched constantly.

Now, that old fear wrapped around my throat. I began to tremble, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

Dad noticed. "Michelle, what is wrong with you?"

Mom sneered. "Stop pretending. The trashy things you did are already all over the internet."

*The internet?*

With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone. A video of Eliana giving me the porridge and hugging me had gone viral. Passersby had filmed it.

I watched the video on loop. Eliana's arms around me. Her gentle comfort.

In my mind, I contrasted it with the image of Mom and Dad hugging Grace.

Grace was right about one thing: these past few years, I had been like a rat in the gutter, jealous of every scrap of love they gave her.

I looked up, my voice barely a whisper. "Dad, Mom... can you hug me?"

*Before I die, just hug me one last time.*

They exchanged a glance. Their expressions softened, just a fraction.

Mom kept her face stern, though her posture relaxed. "It's good that you finally know when to give in."

"In the future, you need to listen to us and be a good older sister."

She walked toward me and opened her arms.