Chapter 3

“But first, I want to see my sister in the morgue.”

I agreed to their demands.

I decided to go to the police station and officially identify the murderer as someone who had only been trying to save her.

It wasn’t surrender.

It was the moment I finally gave up on both of them.

My sister’s body was covered with a white sheet. I was already crying before I even pulled it back.

“Leave. I want to be alone with my sister.”

Ava and Nora were clearly uneasy, but when they saw my swollen, tear-filled eyes, they finally gave in.

I pulled back the sheet.

My sister’s body appeared before me.

The warmth that had once filled her was gone. Her skin was cold.

Her body was covered in wounds of every size. Even her gentle face had been slashed beyond recognition by Grant.

He had tried to rob her. When that failed, he decided to kill her.

With trembling hands, I unbuttoned my sister’s bloodstained shirt.

There was a small string of numbers tattooed on her waist.

The Carter family had money. That naturally attracted people with bad intentions.

Years ago, my sister had taken me aside and shown me the tattoo.

“If I ever die suddenly—whether it’s because of an accident or an enemy—and I can’t protect you anymore, remember these numbers.”

“If anyone ever hurts you, make one phone call.”

“Someone will always protect you, Ethan.”

Back then, I had been young and naïve. I had only known how to curl up in my sister’s arms and act spoiled.

“I’m not going to remember it.”

“You promised you’d stay with me forever!”

I engraved the numbers into my memory.

Then I finally opened the door.

Ava and Nora had been waiting outside.

“Let’s go.”

The headline read:

"Famous Businesswoman Dies by Suicide in the Middle of the Night"

Even though I was inside the police station, the press room was packed with cameras and reporters.

“Why are there so many reporters here?” I demanded.

Ava explained, “Damien said that if his brother is being recognized as a hero who tried to save someone, then the story should be properly publicized.”

I clenched my fists and forced myself to stay silent.

On the large screen in the conference room were four enormous words:

"A TRIBUTE TO A HERO"

They stabbed at my eyes.

When Damien saw me arrive, he gave me a smug smile.

His brother, Grant, stood before the microphones, delivering a long speech about his own “heroic deeds.”

I frowned.

I thought I could endure it.

But Grant only became more disgusting.

He was no longer satisfied with portraying himself as a hero. He began twisting his resentment over the failed robbery into an attempt to smear my sister as a slut.

“When I rushed in to save her, that woman’s shirt was already half-unbuttoned!”

“Her boyfriend? Who knows? A rich woman like that could’ve been sleeping with anyone. They were probably just hookups!”

“Ha! Too bad I couldn’t save her. If she’d fallen for me, I would’ve loved to see what it was like to sleep with a rich older woman. A hero deserves to have some fun, too!”

The male reporters below erupted in oily, lecherous laughter.

Their keyboards clattered as they typed filthy insults about my sister.

Grant grew more and more excited.

When he opened his mouth to continue, I finally snapped.

I charged forward with my fists clenched and tackled him.

“You lying piece of trash! You murdered her!”