Chapter 1
My family never loved me.
On the night I died, they were abroad, gathered together for a grand Christmas Eve dinner.
When my father received the call from the police, he looked utterly annoyed. "If she is dead, do not bring her back here. Just scatter her ashes somewhere."
My grandmother chimed in immediately, "With that jinx gone, the house will finally be peaceful again."
My younger brother raised his glass in a cheer. "Great. Now that the storage room Emily slept in is empty, can I finally move my motorcycle in?"
Yet, on the day they came to identify my remains, my father, the man who had loathed me most of all, completely lost his mind.
*****
The news of my death reached my family on Christmas Eve.
When the police broke the news, my family didn't show a shred of sadness.
Instead, they looked like a weight had finally been lifted off their shoulders.
They kept eating in that cozy restaurant, watching the dazzling fireworks outside the window.
When the clock struck midnight, they raised their glasses to welcome Christmas.
They toasted to my grandma's health, my younger brother's grades, and my dad's booming career.
Not a single word was said about me.
After dinner, they all went back to their rooms like nothing had happened.
It was as if that call from the police had never happened at all.
I floated in the air, watching my family's calm indifference.
I wasn't surprised.
Ever since I was born, I was the one nobody in my family ever loved.
When my mom had me, she went through a tough labor and nearly died.
But in the end, postpartum depression claimed her life.
The day I turned one month old, my dad's business partner took off with all the company's money.
The company's finances fell apart, and my dad was on the verge of bankruptcy.
They all blamed me for bringing bad luck.
From the moment I was born, I was dumped on the nanny and left out of their lives.
My dad couldn't stand to look at me, thinking I was nothing but bad luck.
My grandma hated me more, always calling me a money drain.
When I was three, my dad went to see a fortune-teller.
After that, he brought home a little boy, saying he'd turn our luck around.
He named the boy Ryan Turner, because the fortune-teller said Ryan's name would balance out Emily's bad luck.
My dad told me, "Emily, this is your brother."
I clenched my fists and whispered, "I don't have a brother."
My grandma slapped me hard across the face. "Because of you, your dad's company has lost so much money these past few years.
"Either Ry moves in, or you get out."
I flinched in fear, hanging my head and staying silent.
I couldn't leave.
If I left, I wouldn't have a home.
I drifted into my dad's bedroom.
He came in and flopped down on the couch.
He sat there quietly for a while.
Finally, he opened his briefcase and pulled out a little pink ceramic doll.
My heart jolted, and I instinctively tried to snatch it away.
But now, I was a floating soul, powerless to do anything.
My dad stared at the ceramic doll with its broken arm, his fingers slowly curling into a fist, as if something painful was coming back to him.
That doll was something my mom made for me with her own hands, not long after I was born.
The nanny said my mom specifically learned pottery to make it for me.
I never had a mom, but I'd heard people say, "Nothing beats a mother's love."
Every night, I'd fall asleep hugging that ceramic doll.
The ceramic was cold, but when I held it against my chest, it felt warm.
After Ryan moved in, he took over my bedroom and smashed my doll.
That's when I ended up in the storage room, crying from all the hurt.
My dad said impatiently, "Ryan's a kid. I'll get someone to fix it for you later."
He told me he'd clear out a guest room for me someday.
I clung to his promise, thinking maybe Dad still loved me, somewhere deep inside.
So I kept waiting, year after year.
I waited until I was five and got snatched by a trafficker, and then waited until I was twelve, when Dad finally came for me and brought me home.
And now, after I died, my doll still had that broken arm.
And the last time I ever lived at home, I was still stuck in that storage room.