Everyone Loves My Sister

My whole family only ever loved my younger sister, Carrie Brooks.

Carrie had a crush on my fiancé, Josh Beaumont.

On my wedding day, my mother pressed a knife to her throat, forcing me to give Josh to Carrie.

"The fortune teller said Carrie's illness will get better if she gets married," Mom pleaded. "You're healthy. You'll find someone else."

My brother, Nick Jansen chimed in. "Grace, don't be so selfish. Hurry up and take off the dress. Carrie's thinner than you. Make sure you don't stretch it out."

Even Josh said, "Carrie doesn't have much time left. But Grace… we still have our whole lives ahead of us."

They didn't know.

The one who was truly dying… was me.

Josh and I had been together for seven years. Finally, we were getting married.

Sitting at the vanity, I layered on three coats of powder before my pale and sickly face looked anything close to normal.

Footsteps echoed behind me. In the mirror, my mother's reflection appeared.

"Grace."

My back stiffened for a moment before I forced a smile, one that barely qualified as such.

"Mom… you're here."

Without warning, she pulled out a paring knife and pressed it against her throat.

"Can you let Carrie marry Josh instead?" she pleaded. "The fortune teller said this is the only way she'll ever recover. She's been in love with Josh for so long. Marrying him is the only way she'll get better."

Afraid I might refuse, she pressed the blade harder against her skin, drawing a thin line of red.

"If you don't agree, I'll die right here. Then you won't get married either."

I stared at her, unable to wrap my head around it.

"So, whatever Carrie wants, I have to give it to her? My liver, my wedding, my dress, my ring… even my fiancé?"

"Yes."

Her answer was firm and unwavering.

"If it weren't for George, we would've been homeless long ago. This is the least you can do for Carrie."

I had heard those words so many times.

Ever since she remarried George Brooks and brought my brother and me into their home, she never let me forget—I owed Carrie.

Growing up, I had to give her everything.

My mother and brother's love. The toys and dresses I liked. Even my test scores.

Now, all I had left was Josh.

Why should I give him up too?

I fought to steady my voice. "And if I refuse?"

For a second, Mom looked stunned, as if the thought had never crossed her mind.

Then, the dressing room door burst open with a bang.

Nick stormed in, his expression cold. He snatched the knife from my mother's hands and, without hesitation, slapped me across the face.

"Grace, you ungrateful wretch. How could you talk to Mom like that? It's just a wedding—are you going to die without it?"

Dazed, it took me a moment to process the sting in my cheek. Then I lifted my head and let out a soft, bitter laugh.

"What if I said I really would die? What would you do then?"

My mother's voice sharpened. "Don't talk nonsense!"

She didn't see the tears I was holding back. She continued scolding me, as if I were being difficult on purpose.

"You've been competing with Carrie since you were little. Now you have to copy her even in illness?"

Disappointment clouded Nick's face. "Why are you being so unreasonable? She's our sister. Shouldn't we want her to live a happy, healthy life?"

His grip tightened around my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. He shot my mother a look.

"Do it. The ceremony's about to start."

My vision blurred as I looked at him. My throat tightened. I felt it hard to breathe.

When we were little, Nick used to say he'd protect me. That he'd take Dad's place and spoil me like a princess. That he wouldn't let anyone hurt me.

But now, his face was filled with nothing but disgust—like he wanted to strangle me himself.

My mother stepped behind me, fingers reaching for the zipper of my wedding dress.

I clutched at the fabric, my voice hoarse as I begged her not to.