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On the day the real heiress returned, the three sons of the Sinclair family stormed out in anger. I ran after them in the pouring rain, only to be caught in a devastating car accident that left me with ALS. From then on, my muscles wasted away, and I gradually lost the ability to care for myself, becoming the most useless person in the Sinclair family. Time and again, I tried to pull out my ventilator, but my third brother, now a doctor, always dragged me back from the brink of death. My second brother, once a world-famous star, disappeared from the spotlight and sang me lullabies every night until I fell asleep. My eldest brother, the CEO of the Sinclair Group, worked himself to exhaustion, yet still returned in the dead of night to pray for me at church. I thought things would eventually get better. Until one day, when the pain became unbearable, I called my third brother, only to trigger his breakdown. "Lena's only wish was for us to spend her birthday with her, and you just had to make it about yourself today?" Over the faint sound of a birthday song, I heard my second brother mutter, "If she were gone... the three of us could finally have some peace."