The Charity Billionaires Let Me Die My Sister’s Secret

Mom and Dad's first instinct was to point at me.

The moment the bomb went off, they threw themselves over Adela to shield her.

Meanwhile, I was caught in that man's grip when the blast tore through my legs.

That year, my grades had been good enough to earn me a guaranteed spot at a top university.

While I lay unconscious, my parents pulled strings to transfer that spot to Adela.

When I woke up, I begged them through tears to explain why they'd done this to me.

Their answer: "Back then, we swore to the media we'd never let her suffer for being a murderer's daughter... it was just instinct..."

"You're disabled now. We can't let you go off to school alone. We've decided to keep you here so we can take care of you properly."

"As for the spot... it would've been such a waste. We figured Adela could use it. Besides, it shows people that even a suspect's daughter can have a bright future under our guidance..."

I endured over a dozen surgeries in that hospital. Alone.

My parents threw Adela a lavish graduation party, bragging to everyone about the prestigious school she'd gotten into.

They even took her around to meet university administrators, asking them to look after her.

All I wanted was for them to arrange one of the top blast-trauma specialists from their sponsored programs to operate on me.

They called me ungrateful.

"Absolutely not! If the media finds out, they'll say we're abusing public resources for personal gain!"

"Your father and I are at a critical point in our careers. Are you trying to get us reported and ruin everything? Would that make you happy?"

Without proper surgery, my legs never healed right. The disability became permanent.

...

Their silence gave me a sliver of hope.

But before I could say anything, Adela's choked voice came through the phone.

"Mom, Dad, don't come! She's right—I'm the one who wronged her back then. I'm the one who should've lost her legs!"

"If that killer really comes for me tonight, I deserve it... Consider it my life for hers!"

She hung up.

My parents' hesitation vanished. Their expressions twisted.

"Gertrude! Look what you've done to your sister!"

"You'd better pray nothing happens to her before we get there! Or we will never forgive you!"

I felt nothing anymore.

"And if something happens to me? Will you refuse to forgive her too?"

Dad's face went red with rage. He kicked my wheelchair over, sending me sprawling.

"How did I end up with such a selfish, ungrateful daughter?"

"If I had a choice," I said from the floor, "I wouldn't be your daughter either."

My words only earned me the slam of the door as they stormed out.

Not long after they left, Adela posted a photo on social media—nestled between Mom and Dad, all three of them smiling.

The caption read: "Just because I said I was scared, Mom and Dad brought everyone to protect me. I'm so blessed."

Messages started flooding in from family friends:

"Gertrude, how can you be so inconsiderate? Getting jealous of your sister at a time like this? You're putting people in danger, you know that?"

"Your identity has always been kept secret. The killer would never come looking for you. Meanwhile, Adela's been attending events with the Foxes on your behalf this whole time, taking on all that risk for you. How can you be so ungrateful?"

But my parents didn't keep me hidden because they worried about my safety.