My Triplet Brothers Begged Me Back

On my 18th birthday, my triplet brothers adopted a fifteen-year-old orphan girl.

To make their newly adopted sister happy, Matthew gave her my coming-of-age gift, Daniel sent away the dog that had grown up with me because she was allergic, and William coldly told me to get out of the house and stop making their little sister upset.

I didn't say another word. I just packed my bags and left.

They all thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would be back in a few days.

My three brothers canceled their busy work schedules to take the orphan girl abroad to relax her nerves. They went to see the Northern Lights in Alaska – the place I had always dreamed of visiting.

Many days later, when they returned from their vacation, they suddenly learned that I had volunteered for a twenty-year medical research mission in a remote frontier.

I would never be coming home again.

That night, they fell apart.

1

On my 18th birthday, my triplet brothers adopted a fifteen-year-old orphan girl and they claimed her mother died saving our parents.

To make our new "sister" feel welcome, Matthew forced me to give her my coming-of-age gift, Daniel sent away the sheepdog that had been my companion since childhood because of her allergies.

William coldly told me to get out of the house and stop making their little sister upset.

I didn't argue. Just packed my bags and left.

After they returned from their vacation with the orphan girl, they learned I'd enlisted in a twenty-year frontier medical program.

They went crazy when they realized that I would never come home.

...

The day I accepted the offer to research cancer treatments happened to be Christmas Eve. When our parents were still alive, our family had made a pact to gather every Christmas.

My mentor warned me: "In ten days, you'll be departing for the secret research mission. You'll be isolated for twenty years, Emma. Remember to say a proper goodbye to your family."

This winter was bitterly cold, just like my heart. I stood on the street for a long time before finally deciding to go home, hoping to see my family one last time.

But after waiting outside our family home for two hours, I didn't see any of my dear brothers.

Finally, I steeled myself, took out my phone, and called William.

After waiting for what felt like forever, he answered as if doing me a favor.

Afraid he'd get impatient, I instinctively spoke faster:

"Christmas is coming up. Could we all have dinner together as a family?"

Silence on the other end. I carefully added:

"I've prepared all your favorite foods... I made Sarah's favorite apple pie with my own hands."

Sarah was the adopted sister.

His voice was cold and irritated: "Because you bullied Sarah about being an orphan, she's now so depressed she doesn't want to go to school. We're all with her at the hospital seeing a psychologist. How do we have time for this? And how dare you even think about celebrating Christmas?"

I no longer had the strength to explain their misunderstanding. I just wanted to see them before I left.

"Then I can bring everything to you. It's Christmas after all. Can we spend it together as a family?"

I had never begged like this before. My three brothers used to spoil me rotten, giving me everything I wanted.

But after Sarah came, we started having arguments.

Even during our worst fights, I had never been willing to bow my head.

But this time...

Who knows when we would see each other again after we parted?

The other end of the line went silent.

After a while, Sarah's sweet, soft voice broke the deadlock:

"I want some apple pie."

I immediately responded: "Then I'll bring the apple pie over."

Afraid they might refuse again, I hurriedly ended the call.

2

After hanging up the phone, the winter wind stung my eyes.

I made a detour to the mall, urgently purchasing ingredients to prepare my brothers' favorite dishes—the same ones we used to make together for our Christmas gatherings when our parents were still alive. And of course, Sarah's apple pie.

With all the food and presents packed up, I hurriedly drove to the address William had texted me.

The moment Sarah saw me, she acted terrified.

Matthew glanced up at me.

Before he could say anything, I'd already set up a small plate for myself and retreated to a corner.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed him pause for a moment, looking surprised.

But his surprise was fleeting.

He quickly resumed fussing over Sarah, serving her the largest slice of apple pie.

Sarah had a sweet tooth. She gobbled down several bites of the pie, but shortly after, she dramatically cried out: "My skin is so itchy! I'm having an allergic reaction! Did you put strawberries in this? I'm allergic to strawberries!"

My brothers panicked. Matthew frantically searched for allergy medication, Daniel urgently called their doctor, while William threw the entire pie into the trash and turned to me in rage.

"Did you do this on purpose?" he shouted. "Don't you know Sarah has a weak immune system? An allergic reaction could kill her! When did you become so vindictive?"

My heart seized in my chest. I hadn't used any strawberries—anyone who tasted the pie would know that. But my own brothers, once my closest allies, wouldn't believe me. Just like every other time Sarah had set me up.

Watching my biological brothers hover around Sarah, I silently walked out.

Not long after, I received a series of taunting texts from Sarah:

"I told the boys I was jealous of my classmate who got to see the Northern Lights in Alaska. They said I shouldn't be jealous of others because they could take time off immediately to take me there."

"Did your brothers ever take you to see the Northern Lights in Alaska?"

"Sis, do you think they would take you along if I didn't approve?"

"If you begged me, I might let them bring you along."

Sarah then sent several photos of my brothers—pictures of them preparing a cake together, holding wrapped presents—things that used to be meant for me. But now, none of it had anything to do with me anymore.

I was about to reply, "I won't be going to Alaska with them. I'm leaving this place, and I don't know when I'll be back," when Matthew called.

"Sarah really likes your sapphire necklace," he said. "Let her borrow it for the graduation dance. We're family, after all, and you do owe Sarah. Be generous this time."

Before he could finish, I spoke softly: "I can give the necklace to Sarah."

Matthew cut me off mid-sentence.

He seemed to think he'd misheard.

"What?" he asked in disbelief. "That's the necklace I bought for you. It's your most treasured possession."

3

Daniel also heard my answer and froze for a moment.

He must have thought I was just being dramatic, because his tone grew impatient:

"You don't need to be like that."

"We know you can be petty sometimes, but Sarah will return it after her graduation dance."

I looked at them seriously: "If she likes it, I really can give it to her. I won't need it anymore anyway. I'll soon..."

"I'm always in the lab. I don't have many opportunities to wear a necklace. Sarah is young, at the age where girls love jewelry. It's perfect for her."

"It's good you don't want that necklace anymore. You do owe Sarah," William's angry voice came through the phone.

"Can you come stay with me, I can't sleep..." Sarah's voice drifted through the phone, and the call quickly disconnected.

I didn't even get the chance to tell my brothers that I was about to leave for a secret research mission with no fixed return date, and would never have the opportunity to wear that necklace again. But now it seemed like nobody cared.

Suddenly, I remembered many years ago, when our parents were kidnapped and then killed.

Matthew held me with bloodshot eyes.

With the same gentle voice, he trembled as he comforted me:

"You still have your big brothers—Matthew, Daniel, and William."

"Your brothers are here. Emma will always have a home."

Liars.

My nose suddenly stung with emotion.

I rushed back to school that night and went to the lab, busy wrapping up an experiment.

I only had these few days left.

In the days remaining, I needed to take care of everything related to my studies and life here in Northridge.

I worked through almost the entire night.

The next morning, after a quick nap, I returned home.

The master bedroom was to be cleared out for Sarah.

The housekeeper helped me pack up the guest room while voicing her disapproval:

"Those are your parents' belongings, the things you cherish most. How can you just give them away? And this has been your home your entire life. How can you just move out like this?"

I placed books and clothes into my suitcase and replied:

"It's fine. I won't be staying for much longer anyway."

Behind me, a cold voice suddenly rang out:

"Where exactly do you plan on going?"

4

I turned around.

Matthew was standing behind me. I hadn't heard him come in.

His expression was ice-cold, his gaze fixed on my packed suitcase.

William leaned against the doorframe, looking at me with the same frigid stare.

Sarah crept in behind them, her eyes darting furtively to my luggage.

Though she cowered behind Daniel and William, she couldn't hide the glimmer of anticipation in her eyes.

For a moment, I considered telling them the truth. But thinking about how I was about to leave—how we wouldn't see each other for twenty years—I remained silent. I didn't want our last interaction to end in an argument.

This way, when I finally left, I could at least comfort myself with a lie.

They didn't know I was leaving for good. It wasn't that they didn't care.

My hand slipped into my jacket pocket, my knuckles turning white as I clenched my fist.

"I'm just here to pack some things," I said, trying to sound casual. "This is the necklace for Sarah, and I'm temporarily moving my stuff out."

Matthew's expression softened slightly.

But he quickly frowned again. "If you're not staying here, where are you going?"

"I'll move to the university housing," I answered reflexively. "I probably won't be coming back."

Matthew's face, which had just begun to soften, darkened completely.

I really hadn't meant to provoke him.

I just didn't want to make things difficult for them anymore, especially since I was leaving.

"This is your home, too," Sarah said, feigning innocence. "If you don't like me being here, I can leave."

"You're young," I replied flatly. "You need my brothers to take care of you. Don't worry. Once I move out, I won't come back to bother you all."

Sarah couldn't help but smile before quickly lowering her head, realizing her mistake.

"Who are you threatening?" Matthew shouted.

"If you want to leave, then leave," Daniel snapped. "No one's begging you to stay. If you go, don't ever come back."

William let out a cold laugh. "Good riddance. You've been bullying and hurting Sarah so much that she has anxiety attacks whenever she sees you. Your leaving will be better for her."

I didn't respond. I just continued packing.

After living in this house for over twenty years, I'd accumulated too many belongings.

I couldn't take everything, so I only selected what was essential and what my parents had left me. The brothers had already put the necklace around Sarah's neck.

With two suitcases packed full, I wheeled them toward the door.

Behind me, Matthew's voice thundered: "If you have the guts, don't come back at all!"

I struggled to drag my suitcases down the stairs and out the front door.

From behind me came Matthew's angry, sarcastic voice:

"Take some time away to reflect on why you're always bullying Sarah and why you can't accept her as your sister. Until you recognize your problems and correct them, we won't let you come back easily." Daniel and William nodded in agreement.

Hearing this, I didn't even wait for a cab.

I walked straight into the pouring rain.

The downpour was so heavy it soaked me instantly.

Rain blurred my vision.

Matthew's raised voice continued behind me:

"From now on, whoever dares to let her in will be thrown out with her!"

5

My eyes were so blurred I could barely open them.

I couldn't tell if it was rain or tears. I have congenital asthma. My brothers had always been extremely protective of me because of it, but now, they seemed to have forgotten.

My head felt foggy, and I could feel a fever coming on.

Gradually, my body went numb as I dragged my suitcases toward the exit of our gated community.

I wondered if the university dorms were locked by now.

To be honest, I didn't know where I was going.

Sarah ran after me, her voice dramatically tearful: "Sister, I'm sorry, don't go. If you don't like me, I can leave instead."

Then came Matthew's urgent voice:

"Don't you know your own health condition? What if you catch a cold in this rain!"

For a moment, I thought he was calling out to me.

In my dazed state, I vaguely heard his next words:

"Daniel, tell the housekeeper to make some ginger tea for Sarah!"

I tried to smile, but couldn't.

Between staying up all night yesterday and rushing here this morning to pack my things, then getting soaked in the downpour, my vision started to darken.

Just as I was about to collapse, a strong hand suddenly steadied me.

The rain stopped hitting my head.

I looked up with effort, and after a moment recognized Jake, a senior from my department.

His car was parked in the rain.

Without a word, he took my luggage and put it in his trunk.

"Leaving so quickly? You must have had your escape route planned," Matthew sneered from behind me. "Why can't you just accept Sarah? I don't think you care about your family at all."

He must have followed me out just to see me in my misery.

Jake looked at my bedraggled state and angrily came to my defense:

"Do they even deserve to be called your brothers?"

"You're leaving in a few days anyway..."

"Jake!" I frantically interrupted him.

Jake immediately went silent.

He opened the car door and firmly pushed me inside.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Matthew's face darken:

"Jake, what do you mean by that?"

Jake gave him a look of disgust and scoffed: "What do I mean? In a few days, you'll find out."

My heart instantly jumped to my throat.

Matthew stood frozen in place, as if he couldn't process what was happening.

After a moment, as the car was about to leave, he rushed forward to open my door.

Jake had already locked the car.

Through the window and the rain, I could barely make out Matthew's lips forming the words:

"Emma, get out of the car!"

His expression was angry, but mixed with something else I couldn't identify.

I couldn't understand it. All I knew was that by now, my departure probably meant nothing to them.

Not to him, or to Daniel, or William.

I felt so sick that I could barely breathe.

As the car drove away, I could see in the rearview mirror that Matthew was still standing there.

Jake continued his angry tirade: "Are you really their biological sister? You have asthma—how could they throw you out in the rain? I don't understand why you went back there just to be treated like this."

I turned to look out the window at the pouring rain.

After a long silence, I spoke softly: "They used to love me very much."

Jake didn't believe me.

I only met him when I started college. He had never seen how my brothers once treated me with kindness.

My eyes misted over, and I earnestly repeated:

"Really. They used to love me. They truly did."

6

For as long as I can remember, my parents were rarely home.

They dedicated almost their entire lives to pharmaceutical development and medical research.

They would often leave home for months, sometimes years at a time.

Besides our housekeeper, it was my triplet brothers—twelve years my senior—who raised me.

In elementary school, whenever I felt sad missing my parents, Matthew always noticed my dejection and gave me a puppy for companionship.

In middle school, when classmates bullied me because my parents weren't around, Daniel rushed to school without hesitation, risking arrest to beat up those who tormented me.

My awkward third brother, William, would study various recipes to cook for me, willingly enduring burns from hot oil on his hands.

For many years while our parents were absent, my brothers were both siblings and parents to me as I grew up.

Until I turned twelve, when I saw the Northern Lights on television.

My brothers promised to take me to see them. We even booked the tickets.

But the very next day, the news of our parents' sudden death shattered our plans and abruptly ended my happy life.

Before the tragedy, my parents were developing a cancer treatment drug that was about to succeed and be released at an affordable price.

News of this breakthrough leaked, inciting hatred from pharmaceutical corporations.

Those capitalists initially planned to kidnap me and my three brothers to threaten my parents, but a young female police officer sacrificed her life to save us.

Enraged, they hired hitmen who broke into the laboratory and brutally shot my parents.

It happened on Christmas Eve. Mom and Dad had been working overnight in the research lab, trying to ensure patients could access the affordable new drug before Christmas.

After my brothers and I were rescued, all we saw were two cold corpses.

That brave young police officer was only in her twenties when she died. Her daughter wasn't even five years old. Her husband, unable to accept his beloved wife's death, took his own life.

After seven years of tireless searching in remote rural areas, my brothers finally found news of the officer's child and brought her home.

Fifteen-year-old Sarah had been with our family for six months when everything changed.

One day when my brothers weren't home, I overheard Sarah talking on the phone with a stranger and learned the truth. Her parents had adopted the real Sarah, but the real Sarah died from illness during the second year after adoption.

Those foster parents, coveting our family's wealth, sent their biological daughter to impersonate Sarah, hoping to seize our family fortune.

I was shocked. When my brothers returned home, I was about to tell them the truth.

But Sarah broke something of mine again.

It was the only remaining photo of our entire family, the only picture I had of my parents.

The frame fell to the floor, glass shattering into pieces.

Just like countless times before, Sarah crouched down to pick up the pieces, then showed her cut hand to my brothers, looking pitiful and wanting comfort.

Enraged, I rushed forward, yanked her away, and lost control: "Get out! This is my house. You don't belong here!"

For the first time, Matthew's face darkened toward me.

Daniel, who was usually gentle and quiet, looked disappointed.

William didn't hesitate to stand in front of Sarah. "Emma, your arrogance and self-importance need to stop."

I told them everything I'd heard, watching Sarah's panicked expression.

I thought an impostor shouldn't continue pretending, occupying my home and my brothers, repeatedly destroying my things.

But what answered me was Matthew's angry voice:

"Emma, when did you learn to lie?"

"Sarah is the only flesh and blood, the only concern of our savior."

"Doesn't your conscience hurt making up these stories? Why can't you accept Sarah?"

After that, we never had peace again.

A month ago, Sarah used her old tricks again, breaking the medical research trophy I had just received.

I chased her to the stairs, lost control, and slapped her.

She deliberately fell down the stairs. I tried to grab her but fell down with her.

My arm was injured. I struggled to get up.

Before I could say a word, Matthew, for the first time, slapped me across the face.

Daniel, who had always been gentle and quiet, erupted in anger:

"Emma, if you can't live with us, then get out!"

They took Sarah to the hospital, leaving me behind, also injured.

The Northern Lights they had promised to see with me—twelve years had passed, and now they were taking Sarah instead.

7

I pulled myself from the memories.

Jake, driving beside me, handed me a tissue.

I stared at it for a moment, only then realizing my eyes were wet.

When I agreed to join the professor's twenty-year isolated research project, I thought I had made peace with everything.

Now I discovered that remembering the past still brought tears to my eyes.

It's okay. It's okay.

People just need more time to forget and let go.

I returned to campus, moved into the dorm, and continued organizing my affairs.

The next day, while heading to the library with Jake, I ran into my three brothers again.

Matthew, now a mentor at the research institute, had become an associate professor at only thirty-five.

His presence at the library wasn't surprising.

I pretended not to see them, found a seat, opened my laptop, and continued typing, one word at a time.

Sarah, however, dragged my brothers to sit not far from me.

I kept hearing the girl's quiet laughter.

Matthew and Daniel patted her head: "Be good, and in a couple of days, we'll go see the Northern Lights."

Hearing their words, I felt my chest tighten. I got up and moved to a corner.

When I came back to my senses, Matthew, Daniel, and William had their backs to me, chatting with another professor from the department.

Sarah had silently made her way to my side.

My internal alarm went off. She lunged forward and grabbed my bracelet, throwing it to the ground. This bracelet contained my parents' ashes. It shattered on impact, its contents scattering, carried away by the air conditioning current.

Sarah immediately threw herself to the floor with dramatic flair, her forehead hitting a chair as she screamed and cried.

Students in the library turned to look.

With trembling hands, I knelt on the floor, trying to prevent the ashes from being blown away.

My head was buzzing.

My brothers rushed over, immediately accusing me without asking what happened:

"Emma, why did you push Sarah?!"

Daniel helped Sarah up, his face angry.

More and more people gathered around.

Jake was nearby and hurried over when he heard the commotion.

He looked at the shattered bracelet on the floor, then at my expression, quickly understanding what had happened.

"Did she break your bracelet?!"

Matthew's anger froze as he walked over and looked at the mess on the floor.

After a long moment, he frowned: "That's impossible, Sarah wouldn't..."

I didn't listen to the rest of what they were saying. I quickly gathered the remaining ashes in my shirt and said to Jake, "Let's go."

How strange.

I should have been furious. I should have lost control like countless times before, yelling at Sarah, maybe even getting physical.

Then, amid my brothers' favoritism and indulgence toward Sarah, I should have lost control and had a huge argument with them.

But at this moment, I just wanted to leave.

I had been arguing with them for three years.

For four years, countless times, always with the same result.

Now, I didn't want to argue anymore.

After all, I only had a few days left before I'd be gone.

I carried the ashes out of the library.

Behind me, Matthew followed.

I heard his voice, tinged with a hint of guilt and discomfort:

"Sarah was wrong about this. She didn't mean to do it. I'll prepare a new bracelet for you to hold your parents' ashes."

I replied flatly: "Don't bother."

I was leaving. I no longer had hope for them.

I walked toward the end of the hallway.

Matthew, for whatever reason, suddenly seemed struck by something.

The man who hadn't been willing to say more than a word to me for years suddenly caught up and grabbed my arm.

"Emma, what... what's going on with you lately?"

His voice seemed to overflow with a trace of uneasiness.

But I didn't turn around.

I just reached out and gently pushed his hand away.

We were silent for a while until he spoke again:

"Sarah is just young."

"Although I'm upset about the bracelet too, for the sake of Sarah's mother's sacrifice, we should forgive her."

So, he was afraid I would resent Sarah and harm her in anger?

And I thought, for once, they were finally willing to stand on my side.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth, finding myself ridiculous.

I walked into the elevator and pressed the close button.

That heart that had once refused to give up was finally calming down, gradually becoming like still water with no ripples.

It seemed I no longer felt sad.

As the elevator doors closed, I spoke softly: "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Daniel and William urgently reached out, probably wanting to stop the closing doors, but it was too late.

In my last glimpse, I thought I saw panic and helplessness in their eyes. Probably just my imagination.

8

Before leaving, I checked my luggage one last time.

At noon, I treated my roommates to lunch as a farewell.

As I was walking out of the restaurant, William suddenly called.

I answered, but he didn't speak for a long time.

I thought he might have called by accident.

Just as I was about to hang up, he finally spoke: "When are you coming home?"

I was taken aback.

For a moment, I wondered if he had meant to call Sarah instead.

But I still replied: "I'm busy at school these days, so I won't be coming back."

William wasn't willing to let it go: "What about tonight?"

I didn't know what he was getting at suddenly.

But I made up an excuse anyway: "I have plans with classmates tonight."

There was another long silence on his end.

After a while, he awkwardly continued: "Today is our birthday."

I was momentarily speechless.

For many years, I had been the only one planning their birthdays.

Buying cakes, booking venues, choosing gifts more than a month in advance.

Matthew and Daniel were always busy with work and didn't care for celebrations. William was carefree and never bothered with such things. Every year, I would prepare everything and then drag them to celebrate, forcing them to act surprised.

But this year... I was just tired.

I didn't know what to say. After thinking for a long time, I only managed: "I'm sorry."

A formal, distant phrase.

Another long silence followed.

When William spoke again, his voice was slightly hoarse: "Come home for dinner. I'll cook. You always loved my cooking, didn't you?"

I didn't really want to go.

He continued: "The housekeeper took Sarah to night tutoring. She won't be home."

The cold wind on the street stung my face.

In the end, I agreed: "Okay."

This time, it really would be our last meal together.

When I arrived home, William was cooking in the kitchen.

In the early evening, Matthew stood at the wrought iron gate in the front yard smoking.

In the freezing cold, under the streetlight, I could see his already pale face had turned slightly blue from the cold.

For a moment, I even felt like he had been waiting for me.

As I approached, he seemed to choke on the smoke and coughed twice.

I really had nothing to say to him anymore.

So I made small talk: "You should smoke less."

Matthew didn't respond, but he immediately put out his cigarette.

I was surprised—I hadn't expected him to listen to me.

As I entered the house, Daniel, carrying dishes and utensils, poked his head out from the kitchen and said: "Wash your hands. Dinner's ready."

In the kitchen, William was serving the last dish.

My eyes suddenly welled up.

At the dinner table, Matthew brought up the trip to see the Northern Lights in Alaska.

"Your break coincides with our trip, so I booked an extra ticket. You should come with us."

9

My hand stopped mid-air as I was picking up food.

Daniel peeled several shrimp and placed them in my bowl.

William spoke in a gentle voice: "We promised you long ago.

"But we've been busy with work, as you know."

I lowered my head as tears nearly fell.

After all these years, they still remembered.

I spoke quietly: "I have to go out of town with my professor this Saturday. I probably won't make it back in time."

Daniel continued peeling shrimp for me, the oil staining his long, slender fingers.

He replied: "Then we'll go before Saturday and come back early.

"Alaska isn't that far. We can return sooner."

I wanted to refuse but couldn't bring myself to say the words.

Deep down, I guess I still held onto a sliver of hope.

After all these years, I just couldn't forget that Christmas Eve.

My three brothers doting on me, tickets booked, promising to take me to see the Northern Lights. Our eyes full of anticipation for the future.

That night, before our parents died, before Sarah moved in, when my brothers still cared about me.

That night was the last evening of happiness I'd known in over a decade.

I could never forget that promise. It wasn't really about Alaska or even seeing the Northern Lights.

I just missed the days when I had parents and brothers who loved me.

Daniel, noticing my silence, patted my back:

"Emma, Sarah is still an outsider. We'll always be your brothers first."

My eyes misted over, my hands trembling uncontrollably. I couldn't even lift my head.

After many years, we were having a peaceful, harmonious meal again.

For a moment, I almost felt like Sarah's three years in our home had been just a bad dream.

Until dinner was almost over, and Matthew suddenly changed the subject:

"But people outside the family have different motives.

"Like Jake. You should understand what he's after by getting close to you. Don't get too involved with him."

I looked up in shock.

Matthew continued gravely: "The medical research our parents were working on before they died is about to restart. You must have heard about it.

"I reviewed the list of personnel for this research project, and Jake's name is on it.

"He probably wants to bring you along so he can extract our parents' lost research results from you and claim them as his own."

I couldn't listen anymore. I put down my chopsticks and stood up:

"Jake isn't as despicable as you think."

Matthew's pretense of warmth quickly turned cold:

"Emma, what's with that attitude! I'm your oldest brother. Would I harm you?"

Daniel stood up and patted my shoulder, but his words echoed the same sentiment:

"Once that isolated research project starts, no one knows how many years it will take.

"Jake is probably only joining to get the medical achievements. Once he has what he wants, he can find an excuse to leave anytime.

"But if he drags you in, the consequences could be disastrous. It's too dangerous. Jake might not care about your safety, but we do!

"Emma, think about what happened to our parents. I can't watch you repeat their tragedy.

"Jake is an outsider. Matthew is just looking out for you."

The ripple of warmth I'd felt in my heart completely froze over.

So this was their real reason for inviting me back.

Without hesitation, I pushed Daniel's hand away.

When I spoke, my voice was completely detached:

"Jake has already made arrangements for his family. He won't abandon the project halfway.

"Even if he did ask me to join, it would be because he values my abilities.

"Someone in this world has to make sacrifices and contributions, like our parents did, like many senior researchers and predecessors have done.

"What do you mean by 'disastrous consequences'?"

Matthew's face darkened completely: "You're just defending Jake! Would you really choose an outsider over your three brothers?"

Daniel added: "Emma, you don't need to act so righteous about this!"

I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my phone and left.

William, furious, swept the dishes to the floor.

The sound of breaking porcelain was jarring and startling.

I didn't stop.

I left the house and took a cab.

Not surprisingly, Daniel called the next morning.

He seemed hesitant: "Sarah still can't accept traveling with you. So..."

Just then, I received a text from Jake:

"I need to go ahead to prepare things at the new research institute. Leaving at noon today.

"We'll meet when you arrive on Saturday."

I looked at the message on my phone.

Daniel's voice continued, unusually apologetic:

"After you finish your work with your professor and return, early next year, the three of us will take you separately."

I said softly: "Okay."

Daniel was silent for a while, then suddenly asked: "Emma, how have you been lately?"

What a strange question.

Outside my window, it started to snow.

The first snow in Northridge this year seemed later than usual.

I replied: "I'm fine."

The call wasn't hung up for a long time.

I heard Daniel speak again: "Will you come home tonight?"

Matthew's somewhat stiff voice came through: "The housekeeper is back. She's making pudding tonight."

That was what twelve-year-old Emma loved to eat.

But I was twenty-two now and hadn't enjoyed sweets for years.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth: "I won't be coming back tonight."

Or ever again.

Suddenly, Sarah's startled cry came through the phone.

Then William's anxious voice: "I told you not to go in the kitchen. Let me see where you got burned."

The call was abruptly ended.

I listened to the dial tone, then after a while, my phone screen went dark.

Everything returned to silence.

I stood by the window for a long time, watching the snow fall.

Then I took out my phone and replied to Jake's message: "I'm coming with you."

I grabbed my already packed suitcase and booked the earliest available flight.

I left the university and took a taxi to the airport.

As the plane climbed thousands of feet into the air, everything in Northridge gradually disappeared from view.