Chapter 10: The Sister Who Could No Longer Lie

At the police station, Scarlett's story began falling apart within minutes.

The investigators showed her the photographs one after another.

The first showed me standing near the river.

The second showed Scarlett holding my backpack.

The third showed both of us walking toward the restricted trail.

Scarlett's hands began to tremble.

"I didn't kill her," she whispered.

The investigator leaned forward.

"Nobody said you did. Tell us what happened."

Scarlett lowered her head.

"We argued."

Her voice was barely audible.

"Whitney found out that I had been the one who told Mom and Dad she pushed me into the water."

My spirit stood beside her, listening.

Finally, the truth was coming out.

"She was angry," Scarlett continued. "She said she was going to tell Grandma everything."

"What happened next?"

"I grabbed her backpack."

"Why?"

"I wanted to stop her from leaving."

The investigator's expression hardened.

"And then?"

Scarlett began crying.

"She pulled away from me. She lost her balance near the ravine."

Silence.

"Did you push her?"

"No!" Scarlett screamed. "I didn't push her!"

The investigator placed another photograph on the table.

It showed the muddy ground near the ravine.

There were two distinct sets of footprints.

One belonged to me.

The other belonged to Scarlett.

"Your footprints were found directly behind Whitney's," the investigator said.

Scarlett covered her face.

"I only wanted to scare her."

My heart would have shattered if I were still alive.

All those years, I had wondered why my sister hated me so much.

Now I knew.

It wasn't because I had done something to her.

It was because she was afraid I would expose her.

"After she fell, what did you do?" the investigator asked.

Scarlett sobbed.

"I panicked."

"Did you check whether she was alive?"

She hesitated.

"Yes."

"And?"

"She was moving."

My mother's face appeared in my mind.

The moment I had called her.

The moment I had begged her to come back.

I had still been alive.

Scarlett knew it.

"Why didn't you call for help?"

Scarlett's tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Because I was scared she'd tell everyone what I had done."

The investigator stared at her coldly.

"So you left her there."

Scarlett couldn't answer.

That silence was enough.

Back at home, my mother sat alone in the living room.

My father's phone rang.

He listened for a few seconds before slowly sitting down.

"They found her confession."

My mother looked up.

"What confession?"

"Scarlett admitted she left Whitney in the ravine."

My mother closed her eyes.

A broken sob escaped her lips.

"We left her too."

My father stared at the floor.

"We thought she was being difficult."

"She called me," my mother whispered.

"She begged me to answer."

She pulled out her phone and opened our last missed calls.

There were seven.

Seven unanswered calls from me.

Her fingers trembled as she touched the screen.

"If I had answered just once..."

But there was no one left to answer.

That night, my grandmother arrived at the house.

She walked past my parents without saying a word.

Then she placed a small photograph of me on the table.

"You spent years telling me Whitney was difficult," she said quietly.

"But she was never difficult. She was just desperate to be loved by you."

My mother broke down.

For the first time, there was nothing she could say to defend herself.

My grandmother picked up the photograph.

"You didn't lose a daughter today," she whispered.

"You lost her the day you chose not to believe her."

**THE END**