The Only Victim

Mom and Dad were deeply concerned about the progress of the investigation—after all, catching the murderer was directly tied to how soon they'd receive compensation.

So, Leo contacted a police officer he knew and got a copy of the case report.

They flipped through the photos—crime scene images, pictures of the corpse. My charred body was exposed right in front of them.

As a firefighter, Dad immediately identified that the fire had started from the body itself, and he knew that the accelerant used could reach temperatures of up to 750℉ in an instant.

Mom pointed at the photo, detailing all the suffering I had endured before death.

I knew—Mom had always wanted to be a forensic doctor. But when she became pregnant with me, she felt that coming home to hold me after handling corpses in the hospital wasn't right, so she gave up that dream.

I once overheard her holding Ravenna and saying, "Being a forensic doctor is a great profession. If you ever want to become one in the future, I'll be the first to support you."

I watched as Ravenna smiled and nodded at Mom, then turned away and brushed off her shoulder in disgust.

That was the first time I ever laid a hand on my sister. I twisted her arm. Mom had given up her dream for me. I wouldn't allow Ravenna to treat her that way.

In the end, I was punished. I was made to kneel in the snow for three hours.

If Leo hadn't come home and taken me inside, Mom and Dad would have left me out there all night.

Now, looking at their pained and regretful expressions as they examined my corpse, I let out a bitter smile.

They seemed devastated over a lifeless body in a photograph, but if they knew it was me, would they still feel this way?

After all, they had always said it would be better if I died somewhere far away, rather than embarrassing them.

Mom turned the page and saw the scar on my foot—an indentation from when I had stepped into a hunting trap back on the farm in the countryside.

I remembered on the day I came home, Mom wouldn't let me inside with my dirty clothes.

I had to strip down at the door and wait for her to disinfect me. Only after putting on new clothes was I allowed to enter the house.

That was the first time she saw my scar.

She was a doctor who had seen countless gruesome injuries. Yet when she saw mine, the only thing she said was, "Disgusting. From now on, no skirts in this house. Always wear socks—I don't want Raven to see it and get scared."

From then on, I never wore a skirt again.

Maybe—just maybe—Mom would recognize me from that scar?

But she simply flipped the page and said indifferently, "An old wound."

Just then, a phone rang. It was Ravenna's voice—her pre-recorded ringtone for Mom's phone.

There were still many pages left in the report, but Mom immediately tossed it aside and picked up the call.

Her voice was impossibly gentle. At that moment, the murder case, the compensation—everything was forgotten.

The charred, nameless corpse upstairs could never compare to her precious daughter.

"Hello? Raven, sweetheart, what's the matter?"

"Tomorrow is Family Day at your school?"

"Of course, we will be there! Leo is busy, though—he won't make it."

Ravenna's voice rang sweetly from the speaker. "I know! That's why you're the best! Will Danica come? My classmates don't believe I have an older sister—they say she's never visited me.

"But it's okay if she doesn't want to. I know she doesn't like me. I stole your love from her."

Mom and Dad had always been indifferent to me, at most just annoyed by my presence.

But Ravenna—she was cruel. From the very first day I returned home, she had watched me like a wary predator.

She bullied me whenever no one else was around. Yet in front of Mom and Dad, she would cry like a helpless little girl, pretending to long for my affection.

And as always, Mom and Dad wouldn't bother figuring out what actually happened.

It was always my fault.

Sure enough, the moment they heard Raven's slightly aggrieved voice, they immediately defended her.

"That's right—how dare she ignore your calls? I'll find her right now! If she doesn't come, I'll cut ties with her. From now on, you'll be our only daughter."

Ravenna finally laughed in satisfaction.

Before hanging up, she even remembered to remind them to tell me to be careful—playing the role of the concerned, affectionate sister until the very end.

After the call ended, Mom and Dad exchanged pleased smiles.

"She really is the daughter we raised—kind and considerate. So what if she's not our biological child? She's even more thoughtful than our real daughter. I should never have let Danica in when she came back."

Maybe because I grew up on a farm in the countryside, I had to learn many things about their world from scratch.

But to Mom, that just made me seem crude and unsophisticated. Having a daughter like me was an embarrassment.

That was why they never let me change my last name.

Whenever someone asked, they always said they only had one daughter.

I wondered whenever they got worried about Ravenna's safety, did they ever think that I was a girl as well?

That I, too, could be in danger.

I wondered what they would do if they ever found out that their beloved, obedient daughter, Ravenna, played a part in my murder.