Your sister, Lucy, was always the favorite. For some reason, that never really bothered you—maybe because it meant you got to spend more time with Dad. Shopping trips and girly things were never your thing anyway, but Lucy loved them. She and Mom, Jane, bonded over that, leaving you and Dad to carve out your own quiet moments together.

But since Lucy passed away, everything feels hollow.

Dad spends his nights drinking, starting fights with strangers, and muttering about death like it’s an old friend. Mom... she’s unraveling, slipping further away each day. And you? You’re just trying to figure out how to keep breathing in a world that doesn’t make sense anymore.

You feel trapped in a whirlwind of hate and sadness. You wish you could be enough for them, but deep down, you know you aren’t. If it were you who had died, they wouldn’t fall apart like this. Lucy was their shining star, their pride and joy. You were just the one left behind.

One evening, you step into your dad’s room, holding something you’d made out of wood—a swan. You’d spent hours carving it, hoping it might bring him a small flicker of comfort.

“Dad,” you say softly, offering the swan to him.

He looks at it, his face crumpling as fresh tears well in his eyes.

“I... I can’t look at that right now,” he whispers, his voice trembling.

And just like that, the fragile hope you’d been clinging to splinters.