The Brother She Destroyed

A sharp, phantom pain pierced my chest.

An ominous weight settled in my stomach, dragging guilt along with it.

Faith picked up her phone and dialed with trembling fingers.

The next morning, I took my sister to the hospital for her checkup.

Her attending physician greeted us with barely contained excitement. "Mr. Gilbert, excellent news. A private research institute abroad has developed a breakthrough treatment for ALS. Clinical trials are showing remarkable results. They're only accepting two subjects, but I've secured a slot for your sister."

While Faith wept with joy, I remained still. "What are the odds of full recovery?"

"Eighty percent."

Faith grabbed my hand, tears streaming. "Zion, did you hear that? I can recover. I can be with you forever."

I forced a smile. "If only one of us can survive, Faith, I hope it's you."

She froze.

Something in my tone must have cut through her performance. For a split second, she forgot to be fragile. Her voice sharpened. "Don't talk nonsense. We'll both live long lives. Once I recover, I'll restore Gilbert Corporation. You're still the heir."

The heir.

I didn't want that title anymore. Didn't want the corporation. Didn't want this family.

I'd leave it all to Nathaniel.

"The examination will take some time," the doctor interrupted, ushering me out. "Please wait outside."

Before, I would have believed them. Would have rushed off to work odd jobs, desperate to pay for her care.

Now I knew better. These were excuses to get rid of me.

I stood in the corridor shadows. A moment later, Faith emerged—already changed out of her hospital gown. No limp. She walked briskly to the elevator and disappeared. A luxury car was waiting downstairs.

I turned and walked into a different office.

The neurosurgeon studied the scans on the lightboard and sighed. "Mr. Gilbert, the tumor's grown too large. It's inoperable. If you'd come two weeks ago, we might have had a chance."

He faced me, expression grim. "You have days. Go home. Say your goodbyes."

Silence stretched between us. I nodded.

"When I die, cremate me immediately. Send the ashes to the Gilbert Estate, addressed to Faith Gilbert."

I left the hospital with nothing but the clothes on my back.

My phone buzzed. A single message from Nathaniel.

Come to the mansion. Take a look.

I spent my last cash on a taxi to the city's most exclusive district.

Five years. I'd believed our home was lost—auctioned to pay debts.

The mansion blazed with light, more alive than I'd ever seen it. Guests mingled on the lawn. Luxury cars lined the driveway. The air reeked of expensive perfume and champagne.

I stood outside the gate. A ghost among the living.

Nathaniel held the center of the celebration in a bespoke suit, Faith on his arm. They stood before a six-tier birthday cake, his face radiant with laughter. Behind him, gifts piled toward the ceiling.

He clasped his hands, eyes closed. "I wish to be Faith's only brother in this life. Her Little Prince for eternity."

Faith smiled—a look of tender adoration I hadn't seen in years. She pulled a velvet box from her pocket.

The lid snapped open. My blood turned to ice.

A jade pendant.

When Faith and I were born, our parents commissioned an eminent monk to consecrate two pendants. Chanted over for a year. Engraved with our names. Placed around our necks.

Our parents' blessing. Proof of lineage. The only connection I had left to them.

Even starving, I'd refused to sell mine.

Now Faith lifted the jade. My name had been ground away.

In its place: Nathaniel.

Before the city's elite, she placed the stolen birthright around his neck.

"My Little Prince," she whispered. "Your wish has come true."

I don't remember turning away. I simply walked into the darkness, leaving my heart behind.