Chapter 1: The Jump That Changed Everything

Aubrey, the girl my parents brought home instead of me, tried to end her life ten times in three years to drive me away.

Her attempts weren’t just a phase or teenage melodrama—each one crashed through our lives like a thunderstorm, rattling the picture frames and fueling the neighbors’ gossip. The family called her dramatic, growing more exhausted and numb with every incident. So when Aubrey jumped from the balcony yet again, her parents just watched coldly, and her brother stared with a frown, unmoved. No one tried to stop her anymore.

Their faces went slack, like someone had hit pause on a family sitcom. Even the family dog, sprawled out on the tile, didn’t bother to lift his head. The air was heavy with resignation.

Aubrey pulled her lips into a shaky grin, like she was daring us to care, then leaped.

I saw the way she looked down, the way her lips twitched—half hope, half challenge. She wanted to make them feel something. Anything.

The parents jolted, suddenly frantic, and rushed over as if they’d lost their minds. Derek’s hands shook as he scooped her up, yelling at her, voice breaking between anger and fear.

Mom’s voice pitched high, cracking with panic. Dad’s eyes went wide and wild, his sternness shattered by terror. Derek pressed his trembling hands to Aubrey’s shoulders, knuckles white, voice splintering with emotion.

I watched in silence. My nails dug crescent moons into my palms. Part of me wanted to scream, but the words stuck behind my teeth.

It was like I was behind soundproof glass, invisible and untouchable, somehow not really there.

Honestly, falling from the second floor wouldn’t kill anyone.

Still, the way they crowded around her, you’d think she’d jumped from the roof of a high-rise.

The moment Aubrey jumped from the second-floor balcony, the whole family seemed to freeze.

The wind scattered dead leaves across the backyard patio. Time slowed; even the neighbor's golden retriever paused at the fence, head cocked in curiosity.

The parents, who had been watching coldly, were suddenly horrified and instinctively rushed over, trying to catch Aubrey, but it was too late.

I heard Mom’s sharp gasp, the clatter of Dad’s phone dropping onto the deck, his footsteps thundering behind hers. Their faces drained of color.

My brother, Derek, moved even faster, reaching her the instant she hit the ground.

He vaulted the porch steps in a blur, nearly twisting his ankle in the mulch, hands outstretched before he even knew what to do with them.

I saw the muscles in his face twitch, his eyes wide with shock and fear.

For a split second, I saw the brother I used to know—the one who taught me how to ride a bike in the driveway, who flicked Cheetos at me during movie nights.

"What the hell, Aubrey? Are you seriously trying to get yourself killed?" Derek shouted, his voice shaking as he frantically held her, his eyes red with worry.

The old bravado was gone; his voice was cracked glass, and for the first time, I saw how scared he was beneath all that scowling.

Aubrey lay on the grass, unable to get up. Her left leg was twisted, and her right hand was bleeding. But she didn’t cry. Instead, she pulled her lips into a shaky grin, like she was daring us to care.

Her lips trembled. Grass clung to her hair. The porch light made her skin look pale, almost waxy, but she held onto that defiant smile like it was a shield.

"Derek, Mom, Dad, I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt…" She smiled sadly. "Honestly, it’d be better if I died. After all, I’m just an outsider. I never belonged here in the first place…"

Her words floated into the humid air, mixing with the far-off hum of the neighbor’s lawnmower. She sounded so tired, as if she’d been rehearsing this line for years.

"Stop it!" my dad snapped through clenched teeth, telling the panicked housekeeper to call 911 right away.

His voice was raw, more fear than anger. He fumbled for his phone, but his hands shook so badly he almost dropped it again. The housekeeper’s hands fluttered to her mouth as she dialed, her voice shaky as she gave our address to the dispatcher.

Mom’s hands shook as she gently stroked Aubrey’s arm, crying and scolding her at the same time: "Sweetheart, what were you thinking? Scaring us like that—why would you actually do it?"

Mom’s mascara streaked down her cheeks, her voice wavering between scolding and desperate pleading. Her fingers stroked Aubrey’s hair, smoothing away the grass and dirt, as if that would somehow erase the pain.

At those words, Aubrey finally started to cry. "Mom, I wasn’t being dramatic… I really wanted to die. Why didn’t I die!" She tried to get up, struggling to jump again.

Her tears broke loose, ugly and loud, her body shaking as she tried to claw her way off the grass. The whole scene played out like a bad daytime soap, but the fear in her eyes was real.

The three of them panicked, quickly telling her not to move and to wait for the paramedics.

Dad barked orders—"Don’t let her move, don’t touch her leg!"—while Mom knelt in the dirt, cradling Aubrey’s head. Derek hovered helplessly, wringing his hands.

Aubrey gave a miserable laugh. "Fine, I’ll die next time. There’s always another chance."

She flopped back onto the grass, eyes glassy and distant, voice hollow as a dropped soda can. Even the crickets seemed to go silent for a second.

"Aubrey, if you say stuff like that again, I’ll have to ground you!" my dad said, both angry and heartbroken.

Dad’s voice wobbled, all his authority slipping away. He looked like he wanted to ground himself for failing her.

My mom cupped Aubrey’s face, full of guilt. "Sweetheart, don’t say things like that. I never thought you’d really jump. It’s our fault—we haven’t paid enough attention to how you feel…"

She rocked back and forth, like she could soothe Aubrey with movement. Her voice was so full of guilt I almost felt sorry for her, too.

I stood nearby, my heart twisting.

My hands clenched at my sides. The whole scene felt distant, like I was floating above it, unable to reach them—unable to reach anyone.

Derek suddenly stood up. "Mom, Dad, hold Aubrey steady and don’t move her. I’ll go find a belt for a tourniquet!"

He was already moving before the words left his mouth, running for the house with wild urgency, his steps echoing through the hall.

He rushed off, totally missing that I was right behind him, and bumped into me when he turned around.

My shoulder hit the doorframe, the jolt snapping me back to reality. I almost lost my footing but caught myself on the wall.

"What are you doing just standing there? Move!" Derek snapped, shoving me aside as he rushed into the house.

His hand was rough, impatient, the same hand that used to ruffle my hair when we watched Saturday morning cartoons. Now it shoved me away without a second thought.

It was the first time in three years he’d ever treated me so roughly.

I stared at the spot where he’d stood, my breath catching in my throat, realizing that whatever thread was left between us had finally snapped.