Chapter 4
"Probably right after your family's Ragdoll cat, Lucky," I said.
"What nonsense are you talking about?" Francis finally stepped into the living room, but he didn't sit down. He stood across from me, towering over me.
"How could I ever compare you to a cat?" he said.
"Sirena, I admit I was wrong this time, and I admit I should've told you beforehand.
"But I was really out of my mind with worry! Karen was on the verge of passing out from crying! What else could I do? Was I supposed to just stand there and watch her die?"
"Then just let her die," I said.
My voice was barely above a whisper, but it pierced the thick air like a shard of ice.
Francis looked like he'd been slapped, completely stunned and frozen where he stood.
"What did you just say?" He stared at me, disbelief written all over his face. "Say it again?"
"I said, let her die," I repeated, my tone as casual as if I were talking about the weather.
"She's twenty-six, graduated from a top university, and she's never worked a real job in her life.
"She just lounges at home all day, scrolling through short videos, watching livestreams, and going on endless shopping sprees.
"When she blows through her money, she borrows from every online platform she can find.
"When she can't pay it back, she starts bawling to you for help.
"And when you don't have enough, she turns to her mom, sobbing for more.
"And the money her mom hands over? That's the paycheck I work my ass off for every month.
"What a neat little closed loop."
I grabbed the remote, fired up the giant projector screen that covered the whole living room wall, and casually switched to the finance channel. The host's voice flooded the room.
"Francis, it's not like I haven't warned you," I said.
"Last year, I told you to have your sister go out and find a job, but you said she'd just graduated and should take it easy for half a year.
"The year before that, I told you to stop your mom from endlessly handing her money, but you said it was your mom's cash and she could spend it however she liked.
"And the year before that, I said we should start making plans to buy a house, but you said to hold off until Karen got her act together and found a stable job.
"I've been waiting for five years," I said.
"Just to see our savings go from zero to 1 million dollars, and then drop right back to zero."
The news was showing the stock market, with red and green numbers flashing across the screen.
"Today, the three major indices opened higher across the board..." the host announced.
"Sirena," Francis said, his voice suddenly softening, a mix of pleading and exhaustion. He moved to sit beside me.
I scooted over, putting some space between us.
"Honey, I know I screwed up," he said.
"I promise, this will never happen again. I swear.
"I swear.
"Karen even wrote a pledge! She put it in writing—swore she'd never mess with that stuff again!" he blurted out.
"Seriously, I made her write it," he added desperately, like he was clutching at a lifeline.
"A pledge?" I scoffed, a cold smirk tugging at my lips as I'd just heard a bad joke.
"Where is it?"
"Bring it out. I want to see it for myself," I said.
Francis froze for a second, then started frantically searching his pockets.
Left trouser pocket? Empty.
Right trouser pocket? Nothing.
Inside jacket pocket? Still nothing.
"I... I think I left it in the car!" he blurted out, scrambling for an excuse.
"I'll go get it!
"Wait for me!"
He spun around and bolted for the door.
"No need," I called out, stopping him.
"When you made her write that stupid pledge ten days ago, I snapped a photo of it with my phone," I said.
"You've got the original, but I've got the digital copy."
I bent down, grabbed a fashion magazine from the storage compartment under the coffee table, and pulled out an A4 printout tucked inside.
I laid it out flat on the glossy coffee table.
There were a few lines scrawled in messy, childish handwriting—like something a kid would scribble.
"I promise that I'll never borrow money online again.
"If I mess up again, let me rot in hell.
"Signed: Karen
"Witnessed by: Francis"
There was a line at the bottom, written in smaller, much neater handwriting—Francis had added it later.
"My sister promises she'll get a steady job and work hard to pay off her debts. Francis"
"See? It's all there in black and white," I said, tapping the paper with my finger.
"That's one hell of a curse.
"Rot in hell. She really went all out with the self-cursing," I said.
"Your sister's pretty ruthless with her own words."
Francis's face kept shifting from pale to ashen.
"Well... at least she wrote it!" he stammered, still clutching at straws.
"She knows she was wrong.
"Look, she even said she'd get a job and pay back the money.
"Can't you just give her one more chance?"