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My sister was autistic. The doctors called it "severe sensory overload." The rule was simple: No sudden noises. Ever. So my whole life was set to mute. I never wore heels. I never raised my voice. I wasn't even allowed to laugh. It was all to keep her from having a meltdown. My father, Victor, the Don of the Castellano family, would grip my shoulder. His face was a mask of apology. "Sera, you're my good girl. Protecting your sister is our duty. You're healthy and strong. You can sacrifice a little for her, can't you?" That day, I was on the second-floor terrace and accidentally knocked over a pot of white roses. The sound of it shattering sent my sister, who was sunbathing in the garden below, into a meltdown. For the first time, Victor glared at me like I was the enemy. He roared, "Can't you just be quiet? Do you want to drive her insane?" My sister backed away in terror, right into a glass table, and let out a piercing scream. Victor charged past me, a blur of rage and panic. He slammed into me on the stairs as I was running down to help. I lost my footing and crashed chest-first into the sharp corner of a wrought-iron banister post. Pain exploded in my chest. I opened my mouth to scream, but only silence came out. My family swarmed around my shrieking sister. No one even glanced at me. My lungs filled with blood. I was drowning on the floor. They all thought my sister, the one with autism, needed the family's comfort. They thought I just took a fall. That I could wait. They were wrong. Chapter 1 Every breath was a shard of glass in my throat. My ribs were broken. Bloody foam frothed at my lips, staining the white marble crimson. "Can't you just be quiet? Do you want to drive her insane?" My father, Victor, roared so loud the whole mansion seemed to shake. I wanted to tell him it was an accident, but my throat was full of blood. I couldn't make a sound. By the shattered glass table, my sister, Chloe, was curled into a ball, hands clamped over her ears, letting out a piercing scream. "She did it on purpose! She wants to kill me! Get her away from me! Get her away!" My mother, Elena, knelt in front of her, tending to the shallow cut on her arm and cooing. "It's okay, baby, it's okay. Mommy's here. She won't bother you again." I tried to lift a hand, to ask for help. But more blood foamed at my lips. Darkness was closing in. “Dad… Mom…” My voice was barely a whisper. No one looked back. My vision was blurring. Their world had shrunk to my sister, trembling by the broken table. My mind flashed back to the afternoon that changed everything. I had raced home, clutching an acceptance letter from the lead dancer program. "Mom, I got into the Royal Ballet Company!" I burst through the door, my words tumbling out. Elena snatched the letter from my hand. She ripped it to shreds right in front of me. "Are you crazy, Sera?" she hissed, glancing upstairs in fear. "The sound of pointe shoes will make Chloe sick!" I just stood there, frozen, the smile dying on my face. "But Mom, it's the Royal Ballet! There were only three spots in all of New York!" My voice trembled. "My instructor called me a prodigy…" "You're the good one." Elena stroked my hair, her eyes full of pity. "The whole family has to protect your sister. You're healthy. You can sacrifice a little for her, can't you?" I nodded. In my room, I packed my dream away, swallowing it like a shard of glass. The pool of blood on the floor was getting bigger. My breathing grew shallow and fast. I started seeing spots. "Mom, it hurts!" I struggled to reach out. Elena glanced over, her face a mask of annoyance. "Sera, stop being so dramatic. Can't you see Chloe's not well? We'll deal with you later." My sister's screams grew more hysterical. "Get her out! Get her out of this house!" She grabbed a heavy marble vase from a nearby pedestal and smashed it on the ground, sending shards flying. Victor rushed to her side, holding her like she was made of glass. "It's okay, Chloe, Dad's here. You're safe," Victor’s voice was as gentle as a spring breeze. "Daddy took care of your careless sister. No one will ever hurt you again, my angel." My fingers scraped against the iron railing. A nail cracked, leaving a thin smear of blood on the metal. Chapter 2 I remembered last month's family dinner. A formal affair. I was in a white dress, a ghost in the corner. But the daughters of a rival family found me anyway. "Well, look what we have here. The invisible princess." Isabella Rosetti blocked my path, a cruel smirk on her lips. Two other girls, both my rivals from the ballet academy, flanked her. "I hear you stole my spot at the Royal," Isabella’s voice was pure venom, coated in honey. "You really think you're good enough?" They shoved me into a dressing room and locked the door. "You think you're so special?" Anna took out a small pair of scissors and started snipping at my dress. "Your own parents don't even care about you." I tried to fight, but there were too many of them. "Please, don't," my voice shook. "You can have the spot. I'll give it to you." "Too late for that," Isabella said, grinding her sharp heel into my toes. "You should've learned your place sooner." Blood seeped through my white stockings. But I bit back the scream. I choked down the tears. One sound, one sob, and it would reach Chloe. She would have another meltdown. They left me in there for a whole hour. They only let me out after the dinner was over. I limped back to the mansion in my ruined dress. When Elena saw my ruined dress and bleeding toes, her face hardened. "Sera! What did you do?" I hung my head, hiding my bleeding hands behind my back. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'll go change." Darkness was finally taking over. I heard Victor on the phone. "…Yeah, Chloe had another episode. Send the best doctor. We're bringing her to the private hospital now." Footsteps rushed past me. No one stopped to ask why I was so quiet. "Sera, go get Chloe’s noise-canceling headphones!" Elena commanded without a second glance. I tried to answer, but my lips wouldn't move. "Pathetic. Always trying to steal Chloe's moment," Victor muttered in disgust. My last thought was of the day I packed away all my pointe shoes and leotards, locking them in a trunk for good. "Why are you quitting?" my ballet instructor had asked, shocked. "You're the most gifted student I've ever seen!" "The sound of the shoes... it makes my sister want to die," I said, staring at the floor, unable to meet her disappointed eyes. "The doctor said her brain needs absolute silence." Now, all those locked-up dreams were dying right here with me. The sound of the private doctor's car grew closer. I heard Elena cry out, "Chloe! Hold on! The doctor is here!" A flurry of footsteps, and the mansion doors were thrown open. A gust of night air cut through the coppery tang of blood. "Where's the patient?" a familiar male voice asked. "Here! Quick! My daughter's fading!" Victor answered urgently, pointing toward the broken table. I wished someone, anyone, would just look down and see another daughter bleeding out, waiting to be saved. The medical team rushed straight to Chloe, carefully dressing the cuts on her arm. No one noticed me dying in the corner. "A sensory episode is a critical emergency…" The voice faded. Then... nothing. I felt strangely light. Something was leaving my body. The pain was gone. I was floating in the air. I looked down and saw my body. The nineteen-year-old girl lay in a pool of her own blood, her face pale, with dried blood on her lips. Her fingers were broken, her nails caked with blood. That was me. Sera Castellano. The Don's eldest daughter. Dead on the marble stairs of her own home. "Quick! Get her in the car!" Victor's voice came from downstairs. Victor carefully lifted my sister, now wearing her headphones, and strode toward the Maybach waiting outside. "She's going to be okay, right?" Elena followed close behind, her eyes filled with tears for her injured younger daughter. "She'll be fine with prompt treatment," the doctor assured her. "The cuts aren't deep." The car door opened. Victor gently placed Chloe in the back seat. Elena was about to get in, but she paused. "Wait, where's Sera?" My soul drifted toward the car, watching Elena's confused face. "Forget about her! Chloe is what matters!" Victor snapped, already securing his favorite daughter. Elena hesitated for just a second, then slid into the car. The engine roared to life, and the Maybach pulled away from the mansion. The Maybach's tires crushed the white rose petals scattered on the driveway. I floated in the night air, watching the car carry my entire family into the darkness. Only I knew that those crushed white roses were the gift I'd spent six months growing for Victor's birthday. Chapter 3 My soul drifted like a feather in the air, watching the mansion shrink behind me. I felt like a ghost who didn't belong. In the corner of the staircase, my phone was still blinking with unread messages. Cassio's name was on the screen. "Sera, Natalie Portman is in Swan Lake tonight at Lincoln Center. I know she's your favorite dancer. Why aren't you here?" "Show's about to start. I'm in the VIP box. Waiting for you." "Are you okay?" I stared at the messages, a bitter feeling washing over me. Cassio Romano. Heir to our rival Romano family. He was handsome, elegant, and the only man who saw me. He'd spent two years trying to get my attention. He knew I loved ballet. He was always inviting me to shows. But I never dared to say yes. First, because of our families. Second, because I was terrified my sister would find out and have a meltdown. "If you ever go out with those bad men, I'll jump from the balcony!" Chloe had shrieked at me once. So I turned Cassio down, time and time again, missing every performance. This time, he had bought the most expensive VIP tickets, just so I could see the ballerina I idolized. Too bad I would never see her now. My soul drifted toward the hospital. I passed through walls and car windows, ending up in the top-tier suite at St. Mary's Private Hospital. Chloe was lying quietly on a white bed, her face pale but her breathing steady. The girl who had been screaming her head off now looked as fragile as a porcelain doll. "The sedative worked," Dr. Morrison said, putting down his stethoscope. "Her heart rate is back to normal. The sensory overload has passed." Victor let out a long breath, his tense shoulders finally relaxing. "Thank God." Elena held her daughter's hand, her eyes wet with tears. "I thought I was going to lose her." I floated near the ceiling, watching the happy family. I wanted to scream, to make them look at me, but the living can't hear the dead. "Was anyone else hurt at the scene?" a young nurse asked as part of her routine. Elena waved a dismissive hand. "No one important. Just Sera. She slipped. She's fine." Slipped and fell? I stared at Elena. If I could cry, my tears would be a flood. They hadn't even noticed I had stopped breathing. "Mommy…" Chloe's weak voice came from the bed. Elena immediately leaned in. "Baby, you're awake? How do you feel?" "My head hurts," Chloe whispered. "It was Sera… She wanted to hurt me." "No, she didn't, baby," Elena soothed, stroking her hair. "Sera wasn't trying to hurt you. She just knocked over the flowerpot by accident." "No!" Chloe's voice suddenly sharpened. The heart monitor began to beep rapidly. "She did it on purpose! She's jealous of me! She wants me dead!" Doctors and nurses rushed to her side, checking her vitals. "She's a disgrace!" Chloe shrieked, her voice sharp as glass. "Dad and Mom only love me! She's a nobody!" I floated in the air, watching my sister's twisted expression. Her words were like daggers to my soul. But it wasn't the words that chilled me. It was the look in her eyes. Pure, calculating venom. "Her heart rate is spiking again. We need to administer another sedative," a doctor said hastily. Victor looked at his daughter, his heart breaking for her. "This is all Sera's fault! That thoughtless girl!" I thought of all the "episodes" over the years. Every time I got a little attention, every time I tried to have a little freedom, Chloe would have a "sensory breakdown" at the perfect moment. "Chloe said you hid her dolls." "Chloe said you were practicing your dance moves at night just to wake her up." "Chloe said you put something strange in her aromatherapy diffuser." Even now, after I was dead, they still believed every word she said without question. Just then, Victor's phone rang. He stepped into the hallway to answer it. "Hello? Oh, it's you, Alfred. What?!" The color drained from his face. "No! That's impossible!" His voice trembled violently. "Are you sure it was Sera?" The old butler's voice cracked over the line, "Sir... It's Sera. She fell onto the finial of the stair railing. There was blood everywhere..."