Five Years After My Watery Death

Envy

Rebecca was the child my parents adopted from an orphanage after I went missing.

Sebastian once explained the adoption to me. "They took her in to fill the void you left," he said. Strictly speaking, she was my substitute.

Yet, I constantly envied Rebecca since the day I returned to the Clarke Residence.

With a single word or a subtle gesture, she could command the attention of everyone in the room. Meanwhile, I, still weighed down by my rustic mannerisms, sensitivity, and timidity, could barely find my place in this family, even after years of reunion.

Even though my parents and Sebastian constantly tried their best to make up for my lack of family affection in the past few years, it still couldn't change the fact that they grew alienated from me later on.

My presence among the Clarke family seemed to have become invisible. Rebecca, on the other hand, flourished as though she were the true heiress of the Clarke family.

No matter how hard I tried, it only seemed to drive them further and further away from me.

My parents and Sebastian began to view me as jealous and petty, accusing me of bullying Rebecca.

The worst incident happened on my mother's birthday. I decided to prepare her favorite meal.

I snuck out early that morning to buy the best ingredients I could find. When I returned home, Rebecca greeted me with a kind smile and said she could teach me how to make my mother's favorite barbecue ribs.

Her warm demeanor and the way she insisted on sending the maid out of the kitchen convinced me that she genuinely wanted to help. I let my guard down.

But when I unpacked the ribs, I realized the butcher had forgotten to chop them into smaller pieces. I stared at the full rack, unsure of what to do.

Meanwhile, Rebecca took a cleaver and said she could help me.

Grateful for her help, I even humbled myself enough to ask her about other dishes my mother might like. I wanted so badly to prove myself, to show my worth in the family.

But as I turned my attention back to the task, Rebecca's grip suddenly tightened around my hand. Before I could react, the cleaver came down with horrifying precision, slicing off my left thumb.

A searing pain shot through my entire arm, and I let out a scream of anguish.

Even so, all I heard was accusations afterward.

"Naomi, it was you who accidentally cut off your own thumb. How can you blame Rebecca? Is this how you were raised all those years away from us? Manipulating our guilt to make Rebecca look bad? Do you feel satisfied now?"

Rebecca even kneeled before me and cried, "Naomi, I know you hate me for taking away Mom and Dad's love. But I swear, I never meant to steal it from you. Please, don't put yourself in harm's way like this."

Her trembling voice rang hollow in my ears. My heart, already shattered from the pain of losing my thumb, now endured the fresh sting of their cruel words.

Not one of them bothered to ask what truly happened that day. They didn't even attempt a simple investigation.

To them, I seemed to be a despicable and selfish person.

My grandmother was laid to rest in a cemetery located in the west region of the city.

Rebecca arrived, clutching Sebastian's arm. Meanwhile, my parents were already there, lighting candles and murmuring prayers at the foot of the tombstone.

As I gazed at the photograph etched into the cold stone, tears spilled uncontrollably down my face.

My grandmother was the only one in the entire Clarke family who cared about me.

Sadly, she was no longer alive.

Sebastian picked up a flower and respectfully placed it on our grandmother's tomb. After a brief prayer, he added, "Grandma, don't worry. No matter how far Naomi escapes, I will catch her back, bring her over, and make her confess her crime! No, she doesn't even deserve to stand before your grave! She's a murderer, and I'll make sure she pays for what she's done!"

My vision became blurry, and my entire body felt as if I had been struck by lightning. This was the second time I heard Sebastian accusing me of being a murderer.

'A murderer? Did they truly believe I killed my grandmother?'

"Sebastian, no!" I cried, scrambling forward. "I didn't kill Grandma! How could I, when she loved me more than anyone else? It wasn't me—it was her! Rebecca killed Grandma!"

I screamed desperately as I pointed directly at Rebecca. But no one heard me. No one saw me.

Rebecca stepped forward, her expression a picture of grief. She placed three stalks of flowers in the vase with trembling hands.

"Grandma, please don't hold Naomi's mistake against her. I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt you. It was just a one-time lapse in judgment."

Sebastian's voice rose in anger, his words sharp and biting. "Don't defend her, Rebecca! I was the one who performed Grandma's autopsy. She was stabbed in the abdomen with a steel bar—a whole steel bar!

"Tell me, could a kind-hearted person have done something so monstrous? If Naomi had even a shred of guilt left, she'd turn herself in to the police instead of running and hiding like a coward!"

I stared at him in disbelief, his accusations echoing in my mind.

'Stabbed with a steel bar? A crime I never committed?'

My chest tightened as realization dawned. Rebecca had not only framed me for Grandma's murder but had also evaded punishment by making me the scapegoat.

Rebecca stepped closer to Sebastian, wrapping her arms around him. "Calm down, Sebastian," she pleaded. "I believe Naomi will come to her senses one day. She's my sister—our sister. We have to have faith in her."

However, my father interrupted her, saying, "She is not your sister! We in the Clarke family do not acknowledge a murderer who would kill their own family members like her! Rebecca, I know you are kind-hearted, but Naomi doesn't treat us like her family at all!"

My mother, standing quietly by, wiped tears from her eyes. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "It's my fault. If I hadn't insisted on finding her, she never would have come back. Mom wouldn't have died such a horrible death."

I stared blankly at the family before me. A pang of great disappointment rippled in my heart, which had long been broken thoroughly.

But I was dead. I didn't hide from place to place.

It had been five years since their favorite daughter and Sebastian's most beloved sister killed me!

Just then, I felt a twinge in my heart. Ah, it turned out that our hearts would also feel pain even after we died.