My Brother Cried His Eyes Out After I Died

My brother James Smith hates me for causing our parents' death. So he'd rather adopt the deaf Bianca Smith than keep me.

Later, I met Michael Johnson.

He was the one who gave me a grand confession and firmly chose me.

He was also the one who said I had someone assault Bianca and didn't deserve any sympathy.

Five years after being kicked out of the house, body parts of a woman were found in an amusement park mascot costume.

James Smith, as a police officer, led the investigation, while Michael, as a forensic examiner, was in charge of the autopsy.

When they saw the blood-stained hearing aid, they immediately called Bianca.

"I'm fine. I just saw on the news that a major case happened. Should we tell Sophia Smith to be careful too, in case something happens to her?"

Both of them refused almost simultaneously.

"From the moment she caused our parents' death, she's no longer my sister."

"She was jealous of you and did too many wrong things. If she dies, she deserves it."

My soul floated in mid-air watching them, and I laughed until tears came out.

But after they discovered the victim was me, why did they both go crazy?

Chapter One

When the two of them talked about me, their tone was cold, with disgust even in their eyes.

But even though they were talking to Bianca over the phone, their faces were incredibly gentle.

James said softly, "Bianca, don't go out before I get home."

Michael agreed, "Listen to James. It's very dangerous outside right now."

After hanging up, he picked up the body parts from the teddy bear costume and began examining them, his tone becoming professional and calm.

"Both legs were cut off before death. Based on the cross-section, the weapon was very sharp."

The officers present frowned at hearing about such a brutal method.

Michael's gloved hand gently wiped away the blood, carefully examining every detail.

"Based on bone age, the victim was between twenty and thirty years old."

"There's a burn scar on the right lower leg, at least ten years old."

"This scar, why does it look familiar?"

At these words, James, who had been instructing officers to check all the mascot costumes in the city, paused.

My heart clenched hard.

Our parents were both police officers. Once they were so busy they forgot to pick up James, and he walked home in the snow. I wanted to pour him hot water.

But I was too weak to hold it steady. When the kettle tipped over, James quickly reacted and pushed me away.

In the end, I still got burned on my leg.

His eyes turned red with anxiety. He ran out barefoot to find neighbors for help, and when he heard it would leave a scar, he blamed himself even more.

"It's my fault. I swear I'll never let you get hurt again!"

Later, everything changed.

Our parents died on the spot in an explosion. A homeless man was disfigured, and a little girl who was farther away became deaf from the loud noise.

Police surveillance showed that I had pointed out our parents' location to a suspect in a hoodie.

I desperately tried to explain that the person in the surveillance wasn't me.

Our parents' work was special, so from childhood they taught me never to reveal family information to strangers.

Although the police eventually found the killer's body in the rubble, James has hated me ever since.

He adopted Bianca, the girl who became deaf in the explosion, but despite my crying and begging, he sent me to a foster family.

Thinking about this explosion again, my head suddenly throbbed with pain.

The next second, my whole body felt like it had been electrocuted.

I remembered!

I remembered how I was tortured and killed, and I remembered who the killer was!