Chapter 3

After the meal, third sis lost a game, and her punishment was to bring me food.

She stood up, face full of disgust: "No way! Jinxed."

Alex pouted and whined: "Loser pays~ Sis."

Second sis scowled: "Hurry back You wouldn't ruin Alex's fun over that pest?"

Third sis grumbled up: "Damn annoying."

Minutes later, she dumped leftover bowl by my bedside: "Hey, drop the act! Cut it out."

I lay motionless on the bed.

She kicked the bedframe: "Zachary, I'm talking to you! Are you deaf?"

"Fine, be stubborn. Starve then."

Furious, she dumped the food into the trash.

"Sis! I'm not pretending! I'm really dead! Look at my face, look at my hand!"

I wafted before her, waving frantically, trying to get her attention.

Third sis paused, as if sensing something.

Her gaze fell on my pallid face and bruised lips.

For a moment, my heart leapt to my throat.

Was she going to notice?

The next second, she scoffed: "Heh, your acting really is something. Even pretending to be dead, you commit so fully."

She turned and left, the door shutting behind her.

...

Another day passed.

Second sis's fiancé, Marcus Hale, arrived with folks for visit.

The Hales was an established industrial dynasty.

This marriage alliance was vital for Thornes.

The whole family dressed neatly, waiting at the door early with warm smiles.

After the greetings, everyone sat down.

Mrs. Hale set teacup: "Heard there's another young son? Not here?"

Mom's smile froze.

"You mean Zach? Ah, that child… we spoiled him too much. He's sulking and hiding in his room, lazy and utterly lacking manners. So embarrassing."

Dad smiled apologetically: "He's just being stubborn, throwing a tantrum. We'll lecture later."

Just as the conversation threatened to move on,

Mr. Hale glanced up, his tone mild yet firm: "Since he's home, why not invite him down to meet us?"

Marcus lifted gift box smiling: "Yes, we'll be family soon. I should get to know my future brother-in-law."

The Thornes were backed into a corner..

To refuse further would be a slap to Hales' face, and look even more suspicious.

Mom's face turned ashen.

I knew her fear: my shabby "true heir" self exposing would shred Thornes' "harmonious, kind to kin" facade.

Hales valued not just profit, but family reputation.

They admired Thornes' cultivated "generous benevolence."

If they saw the truth, not only would the engagement be off, but the Thornes' dignity would crumble.

Eldest smoothly interjected, a look of concern on her face: "Uncle, Aunt, sorry... truth is, Zach's ill. He caught the flu these days, just took medicine and fell asleep. He needs quiet rest."

Mom nodded fervently, her eyes pleading.

"Yes, yes, we were afraid of infecting the guests, so we didn't dare let him come down and disturb you."

Anyone seeing this would think she was a caring, thoughtful mom.

"I see." Hales softened. "Sick kids need rest. The child's health first."

Thornes exhaled covertly.

Then, Marcus's Pomeranian jumped down and started barking excitedly toward the staircase, wagging its tail.

Floating at corner, a strange thought rose in me—what would the Hales' expressions be if they discovered my body?

I deliberately swayed before the little dog. It was immediately intrigued and began trotting after me on its short legs.

"Snow, come back!" Marcus rose pursuit.

Mom flustered: "Marcus! The upstairs is cluttered and dusty, don't get your clothes dirty—"

"It's fine, I'll handle."

Marcus bounded stairs lightly.

The dog followed me all the way, nimbly squeezed through the crack in my door, jumped onto the bed, sniffed the body, and began whimpering uneasily.

"Snow? Which room did you run into?"

Marcus looked around, then stopped at my doorway.

Downstairs in the living room:

Alex's eyes widened. Eldest Sister stood up abruptly.

Second Sister clenched her fists. Third Sister held her breath.

Dad's Adam's apple bobbed. Mom dug nails in her palm.

Click.

The unlocked door was gently pushed open.

On the bed:

The small, stiff body. The pale face. The bluish lips. And the index finger bent at that unnatural angle.

All clearly visible.

"Zachary... Is that you?"

Marcus called out. No response.

As if guided by some unseen force, his trembling hand reached to check for breath.

It was cold and still.

"Ah—!!!"

A piercing scream tore through the air.

"There's a dead body! Zachary... he's dead!!!"