The Forgotten Daughter's Last Wish

My parents were away on a business trip, leaving just my brother Liam Roscente and me at home.

We sat cross-legged on the living room rug, starting a round of "I Never."

I stretched out my left hand, all five fingers spread wide.

"Last year for my birthday, Mom baked me a strawberry cake from scratch."

Liam let out a short laugh and lazily folded down one of his fingers.

"That's nothing."

He lifted his chin, looking smug.

"Both properties under our family's name have my name on the deeds."

My smile stiffened.

My fingers hovered in the air, frozen.

He smirked victoriously and bent down another finger.

"I'm also the beneficiary on all of our parents' insurance policies."

He wiggled his three remaining fingers.

"Your turn."

I opened my mouth, but the words I'd prepared got stuck in my throat.

I'd been about to say I have cancer.

Late stage.

I might not make it through the year.

Liam raised an eyebrow.

"What, you don't believe me?"

He stood up and walked into the study. I heard the sharp, metallic clicks of the combination lock as he opened the safe with unsettling ease.

He came back carrying a few red booklets and a stack of documents, dropping them in front of me.

"See for yourself."

My hands trembled slightly as I picked up the papers.

Property deeds. Insurance contracts.

Everything in black and white, all under Liam Roscente's name.

Not Charlotte Roscente's.

"Well?" Liam leaned back against the sofa, completely relaxed. "You lost this round, didn't you?"

He was right. I'd lost.

I didn't even know the safe's combination, and yet he could open it like it was nothing.

"Cat got your tongue?" He waved a hand in front of my face. "Keep playing."

I closed the folders.

My throat felt dry.

"You win."

Ever since we were kids, Liam had never beaten me at anything.

Mom always said, "Your sister's a girl—you should let her win."

I got first pick of the best snacks. I got to choose what games we played. Even my bedroom was the biggest.

Liam used to complain, "Mom and Dad only love you."

I basked in the favoritism but always felt a little guilty toward him.

So whenever he told me to drop dead, I brushed it off as angry words.

But now… I really am going to die.

Last month, the doctors confirmed it. The cancer's spread too far. Surgery isn't an option.

I only have a few months left.

I thought since our parents loved me the most, I couldn't bear to tell them yet.

I wanted to tell my brother—the one who resents me—first.

Lightly. Casually. Through a game.

But now… I didn't want to say it anymore.

Liam clicked his tongue.

"You still have three fingers left. Giving up already?"

I shook my head.

"I don't want to play anymore. I'm going to bed."

He studied my face.

"Hey, you're not so upset you're thinking of doing something stupid, are you?"

"If you are, go die somewhere far away. Don't go blaming me."

That's how he always talked.

It never used to bother me.

But now, hearing that word—"die"—my nose stung and my chest tightened.

I didn't look back as I walked toward my room.

He called after me, "There's one more thing I haven't told you—"

"I don't want to hear it," I cut him off.

"Goodnight."

I shut the door and pulled out my bucket list.

Watch the sunrise.

Take a family portrait.

Travel to the beach.

Did any of it even matter now?

My eyes burned.

I tilted my head back, refusing to let the tears fall.

Chapter 2

A sharp, stabbing pain jolted me awake at one in the morning, radiating through every inch of my body.

A cold sweat plastered my hair to my temples as I fought my way out of the tangled sheets. The painkillers were in Mom's usual drawer. My hands shook as I fumbled it open.

My fingers brushed against something else—an old diary, its pages yellowed with age.

Mom's handwriting. I'd never laid eyes on this thing before.

Curiosity cut through the pain. I flipped it open.

"Liam smiled today. His eyes sparkled like stars."

"Liam has a fever. His father and I stayed up all night, our hearts in our throats with worry..."

Page after page, it was all Liam. His first steps, his first word. No trace of me.

It wasn't until the very end that my name finally showed up.

"Liam has started wanting things, but he's three years younger than his sister and can't compete. Sometimes I just want to slap that girl."

"We can only tell Liam that Mom and Dad will make it up to him behind the scenes."

"They're just snacks and toys. Why can't she let her brother have them? She'll feel guilty afterward anyway. It's a small price for our son's happiness."

I shoved the diary back into the drawer, my hands trembling so hard I could barely manage it.

It was all a transaction. Their love had never been real.

Every concession I ever made—the snacks, the toys, the bigger bedroom I gave up without a fight.

In return, Liam got the property, the insurance, their unconditional favoritism.

The parents I had loved so deeply had never loved me back.

A wave of nausea hit me like a truck. I stumbled to the bathroom, dropping to my knees just in time. My stomach cramped violently as I retched into the toilet.

Cold sweat soaked my pajamas. I collapsed onto the cold tile floor, gasping.

The noise must have woken Liam. He appeared in the doorway, his face creased with irritation. "What's your problem? Did you get into the leftovers or something?"

I wiped the sick and tears from my face. "My stomach... it's killing me."

"So take something. There's medicine in Mom's drawer."

"It's gone."

He clicked his tongue, pure annoyance written all over him. "Unbelievable. Fine. Wait here. I'll go get some." He turned to leave, then paused. "Delivery fee is 500. Not a penny less."

The front door slammed shut. Using the wall for support, I dragged myself to my feet.

That's when I saw it. Liam's phone, left behind on the entryway table, lit up with a cascade of notifications.

The screen showed a group chat.

The group name was a punch to the gut: "Happy Family Chat."

A chat with three people. Mom, Dad, and Liam. I wasn't in it.

Mom: "Almost wrapped up here, sweetheart. I'll be home in a couple of days."

"Got that limited edition action figure you wanted. Last one in the store! Cost a fortune."

"Make sure you hide it where your sister won't find it. She asked about it months ago."

I turned the screen off. And then, I actually laughed. A dry, hollow sound.

None of it mattered anymore.

I'm going to die soon. Why should any of this even hurt?

Chapter 3

A light drizzle speckled the windowpane.

Her parents trudged in, suitcases scraping the floor, their faces etched with the exhaustion of a long journey.

Her mother went for the gifts first.

"Charlotte, honey, that limited edition action figure you had your heart set on... it was completely sold out."

She pressed a small box into Charlotte's hand.

"But I called in a favor and had someone find a mini version for you. Isn't it cute?"

Charlotte lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled on cheap velvet, was a shoddy, poorly-made knockoff.

Her father's brow furrowed. "Cat got your tongue? What's the matter, it's not good enough for you?" His voice took on a weighty, disapproving tone. "Your brother never asks for a thing. You're the only one who's so difficult to please."

Her eyes lifted, finding Liam Roscente standing in the shadows. A faint, smug smile played on his lips.

"Mom," Charlotte said, her voice unnervingly calm. "That limited edition. Are you sure you just couldn't get it?"

The cheerful facade in the living room shattered into an icy silence.

Her mother's face tightened. She shot a venomous glare at Liam. "I told you to keep your mouth shut."

Liam gave a casual shrug. "She was bound to find out."

Her mother drew a sharp breath, turning back to Charlotte as if steeling herself. "Well, since you know..." She straightened her posture, her voice formal and cold. "We've indulged you your entire life, Charlotte. It's only fair that the family's legacy goes to Liam."

Fair?

A bitter, disbelieving laugh escaped her.

A sudden, sharp cramp twisted in her abdomen, so violent it stole her breath. She stumbled into the bathroom, collapsing over the toilet as her stomach heaved.

Her mother followed, hovering at the door. "What's wrong? Did you eat something bad?"

"Actually," Liam's voice floated in, calm and observant, "she's been like this a lot recently."

A dreadful understanding dawned on her mother's face. She lunged forward, grabbing Charlotte's wrist. "You can't be...?" Her eyes dropped, staring in horror at her daughter's lower abdomen.

The crack of the slap echoed off the tiles.

"Charlotte Roscente!" her mother shrieked. "Twenty-one years old and you let some boy knock you up?"

Her father rushed in. "What in God's name is happening?"

"She's pregnant!" her mother screamed, pointing a trembling finger. "I heard rumors at the country club about her running wild at school!"

Charlotte tried to push herself up from the floor. "I haven't—"

"Don't you dare lie to me!" her father roared, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt. He hauled her to her feet, dragging her toward the front door. "You will get out of this house and think about what you've done! Don't you dare come back until you've learned some respect!"

The heavy wooden door slammed shut in her face.

The only sound was the soft, steady patter of the rain.

She stood alone in the cold, dim hallway, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.

Then the pain in her abdomen returned, sharper and more searing than anything she had ever felt before.