"She won't be coming back," Diane interrupted, wiping away her tears. "Vincent, if you find the house too quiet, maybe we should have another child."
Vincent remained silent, the weight of his sigh hanging in the air.
Hardly had they kicked me out when they began planning to replace me as if I had never existed. I thought as a spirit, I would be beyond pain, but the ache in my heart persisted.
I couldn't cry, but the wound bled silently, a testament to my fractured family.
After they returned home, they sorted through Marlon's belongings. Every year, they honored his memory this way, going through his things like a ritual.
As they rummaged through the boxes, they chatted softly to themselves.
"Look at this calligraphy Marlon did when he was six. All his teachers said he had a real gift."
"Marlon always got top grades. He never gave us any trouble."
"Even with all the pressure in eighth grade, he still helped out around the house."
"He passed his piano grade eight at just thirteen. Those long fingers of his were bound for greatness."
But they seemed to forget that I had learned everything Marlon did and even worked harder.