After My Death, the Whole Family Began to Love me - Chapter 2

Of course, Sarah stayed. She was more like a Miller than I ever could be. Now she’s dead, and the whole family worships her.

My existence was too much for my own family. I didn’t look at Mom and Dad. I just went upstairs to Tom’s room and knocked. Since it was Sarah’s birthday, Tom would be home.

He frowned when he saw me, his eyes filled with the same disgust as Mom and Dad.

“What do you want? Did you come to gloat about driving Sarah to her death? Did you come back to rub it in?”

I ignored his insults and walked into his room, opening the bottom drawer of his desk. He noticed what I was doing and grabbed my arm.

“What are you doing?”

I didn’t answer, just shook him off and started taking out the envelopes from the drawer, one by one. I laughed bitterly as I did. He hadn’t opened a single one.

When I came back to this family, Mom and Dad gave me a credit card and told me to buy some new clothes and stuff.

But I knew Tom collected stamps, so I saved the money and bought all sorts of rare stamps.

I was four when I got lost, so my memories of before that were hazy, but I always remembered my brother.

When we were kids, Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me eat candy to keep my teeth healthy. But Tom would always find a way to sneak me a Tootsie Roll or two.

He’d wait until Mom and Dad were asleep and slip it under my door. During the eighteen years I couldn’t go home, the taste of those candy was all that kept me going.

But when I finally came home, my brother became Sarah’s brother. Tom looked annoyed every time I gave him an envelope.

“Can you stop? Why do you keep writing me letters? Can’t you just say whatever you want. Stop trying to be sentimental. You’ll just make Sarah feel insecure. She already feels bad enough that you’re home.”

“And what are you wearing? Mom and Dad gave you money for new clothes. Why are you still wearing those rags? Are you trying to get attention?”

Every time, he’d throw the envelope in the bottom drawer, like it was contaminating him. Seeing what I was doing, Tom snatched the envelopes from my hands.

“What are you doing with this garbage? Are you trying to play games with your own brother?”

I stood up and looked him in the eye. “Taking out the trash.”

Tom was speechless, staring at me. He scoffed, throwing the stack of envelopes in the trash can.

“Garbage belongs in the trash. Don’t worry about cleaning up after me.”

I stared at the envelopes in the trash can, the envelopes that had never been opened, and I couldn’t help but feel a lump in my throat.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come back three years ago. Eighteen years was too long, and it had erased even blood ties.

Sarah was their family. Mom, Dad, and Tom had no room for me. I didn’t belong in their family.

Like these stamps, they’d been thrown away without even being looked at because I was the one who had given them. I swallowed my emotions and looked at Tom.

“Just as long as you don’t have to look at them again.”

Then I left. Or me, I added silently. Brother, you won’t have to look at me again, either.