Chapter 5: Why?

Chapter 5: Why? Seraphina’s POV I didn’t react to his concern. Who the hell was he to worry about me... after letting me die like this? The memories surged through me, sharp, fast, and uninvited. Asher, my third brother. A soldier. Composed and heavily respected. He never liked me, but he tolerated me. Because everyone did! But I was still an eyesore to him. But Melissa always showed sympathy to me, and he did too. She was the youngest. Their sunshine. Their jewel. She was like a fragile glass doll, which might break if they used any harsh words on her. And in return, she loved them with all her delicate, untouchable heart. Even Asher, their quiet, conflicted third son, loved her more than anything. And somehow... She loved him back, too. Me? I was always the outsider. The mistake someone forgot to throw away. But I stayed. When Asher was accused of anti-national activities—when the entire Lancaster name was dragged through the filth—I stayed. When the eldest lost his position, when the second was spit on in courtrooms and dinner tables, I stayed. And so did they. For Asher. But Melissa? She vanished. No goodbye. No explanation. Not even a damn phone call. The precious one was gone just like that, when it mattered the most. We tried to rebuild from scratch. But no one wanted to be seen with the name Lancaster. No job, no dignity, just shadows and shame were left for us. Asher couldn’t take it. One night, he drank poison. But my brothers found him and rushed him to the hospital. Thankfully, he was saved in time. That day, he cried in my lap like a child. Told me he was sorry. That if there were a next life, he would cherish me. That he would protect me from anyone who tried to harm me. I believed him. So I worked. I sold my pride, my body, my dreams—whatever it took to put food on the table. Even for the family who never once called me theirs. And in the end? What did I earn? Cancer. Malnutrition. A slow death in silence. When my brothers found out, they broke down. They wanted to fight for me, for once. Begged me to rest, to let them try. But I couldn’t. I had watched them suffer too long. So, I ran away from them, not wanting to be their burden. But they found me again. And they stayed. Held me through every pain and scream. They promised to meet again. That next time, we’d choose each other from the start. And now I am here. Alive again, somehow—and pitied by the same brother who scoffed at me and hated me but the way he was looking at me now was strange. Don’t look at me like that. I don’t need your concern. I need to know why I am still breathing. Even though they promised to find me again in the next life, I never wanted to see them. I didn’t want to meet anyone in this cruel world, where everything I ever loved was stolen, piece by piece. The world had already made me suffer enough. And now, trapped back in time, I was about to relive it all. The pain. The loss. The slow, suffocating end. All the while forgetting the only thing I once held dear—the final moments before death. And I was happy with those memories and was content to die in peace and never come back here! "Tell me, are you fine?" I was still lost in my thoughts when my third brother’s voice interrupted me. "I am really worried. Can’t you say something?" Really? He wanted me to say something? Didn’t he hate me? Why was he even here? Brother, I can’t bear your hatred anymore—after all the times you doted on me, this... please just leave! That’s what I wanted to say, but no words came out. In the end, I just nodded. "Let’s go home then," Asher said, taking my hand. "You stabbed the driver and tried to kill someone. The police are after you!" What? My body froze. How was that my fault? Why were the police after me? "You keep making mess after mess! Can’t you just go to the mental hospital and stay in peace there?" He rambled on. If this had been before, his harsh words wouldn’t have hurt me. But after seeing his caring side—the years we spent together—the way he was before... this broke my heart. "Why?" I asked quietly. Asher raised his brows, looking at me like I had just said something strange. Well, it wasn’t his fault—I hadn’t spoken to him in the two years since I came back home. I was scared of him. And, maybe worse, I admired him from afar. "Why do you... think that I... stabbed him?" I asked, staring at the bloodstains still visible on my hands. Asher immediately pulled his hands away and scanned me from head to toe. "What do you mean?" he asked in a sharp voice. "You... you came running to me... because I stabbed someone?" I stammered, still unable to speak freely around him—maybe because I was trapped in my eighteen-year-old self, where I was still afraid of him. "Be... because that someone was Melissa’s biological brother?" Asher’s glare hardened, like he never expected to hear something like that from me.