My Five Year Old Self Bought a Dying Sister

The moment I saw the girl, pale and curled up like a discarded doll, the words started floating. They always did when something big was about to happen—text flickering above my head, sometimes silent, sometimes a faint whisper only I could hear. [Ugh, the true heiress suffered for eighteen years, only to come home and immediately be left to die, and her so-called family is still on vacation with the fake one.] [They only regret it after she’s dead. Too little, too late.] [I’m so sick of this “dead girl literature.” I’m sending the author a box cutter.] I was only five, but I could make out a few key words. The main one? Dying. I scrambled, hoisting my little arm and tugging hard on my bodyguard’s jacket. I pointed a chubby finger at the huddled figure by the dumpster. “Ash, call Daddy right now. Tell him Piper wants that doll.”

1 Ash followed the direction of my pointed finger. He finally saw the person curled up near the trash receptacle. He knelt down to adjust my collar. “Little Miss, that is a person, not a doll.” I nodded, not really listening to him. “Oh, okay. Then I want that person. Tell Daddy to buy her for me.” Daddy, James “J.C.” Cole, always said his little girl was born to have everything she wanted. If she didn’t have it, it just meant he hadn’t thrown enough money at the problem. Asking him to buy a person? That didn’t seem too much. Nope. Not too much at all. Having settled the matter, I adopted my best “Daddy-voice,” a total mogul decree. “Ash, no matter the price. Buy her.” Ash clapped a hand over my mouth, eyes darting around to make sure no one had heard me. He leaned in conspiratorially. “Little Miss, we are in the States. And Mr. Cole runs legitimate businesses. He is not a human trafficker.” I finally understood. I couldn’t buy her. I started spinning in frantic little circles on the spot. This is a catastrophe! A total catastrophe!! CAT-A-STRO-PHE!!! Just then, the girl suddenly coughed and then spat a mouthful of bright red blood before collapsing completely. I had never seen anything like that before. I burst into tears on the spot. “But… but that sister is going to die!” The sight of me crying sent Ash into a panic. He scrambled to his feet to call my father. My outburst drew the attention of the floating words above. [What’s happening? Is the true heiress going to be saved? Did we get the script wrong?] [Who cares? As long as she lives!] [Wait, isn’t that Piper Cole, the little princess of the ridiculously rich Cole family? I remember the fake heiress’s swapper parents tried to pull the same trick with their second daughter and Piper, but the true heiress stopped it. She was locked up for a month and only given a slice of bread a day for that!] I squinted, trying hard to read those words. My eyes went wide, my mouth formed a perfect ‘O,’ and a realization dawned. Oh my goodness! This sister had saved me! She was my guardian angel. I had to save her. Just then, my father’s booming voice came through Ash’s phone. “Ashton, you’ve been with me this long and you still need me to tell you what to do? It’s just a person! If you can’t buy her, then find another way! Figure it out!” “Get this done, and your salary is doubled. Don’t you dare let my baby girl be disappointed.” I covered my mouth, stifling a giggle as Daddy scolded Ash. Hehe. Piper wanted it. Piper got it. 2 VIP I sat by the hospital bed, cheerfully swinging my legs while munching on little cubes of apple that Ash had cut for me. Wow. This sister was so pretty, like a real-life doll. If her original parents didn’t want her, then she was mine now. Happy! Ash walked up to me and began his report. “Little Miss, this is Callie Hart, the daughter of the wealthy Hart family, who was lost for eighteen years.” “She was only recently brought home, but the Harts don’t exactly dote on her. She’s been back for two months, and they haven’t found the time to take her to change her legal name.” “Just yesterday, both of the Hart daughters had their birthdays. The Hart family gave all their household staff the day off, and the three of them flew out of the country, leaving Callie here alone.” The floating comments were furious: [“No time to change her name?” Please. The fake heiress, Gemma, sabotaged it every time.] [Gemma even said the name Callie was good, and maybe it would help the Harts have a boy next.] [If the name is so good, why doesn’t Gemma take it? They shouldn’t be called the Harts. They should be called The Nutcases.] I didn’t understand everything, but I recognized the last few words. I blurted them out. “Nutcases!” “A whole family of nutcases!” Ash looked at me in astonishment. “Little Miss, where did you learn that word?” I pointed at the floating text above his head, and Ash just looked confused. He really was a dummy. My fairy tales said only smart people could see things others couldn’t. I could see the words, so I was the smartest! The floating words realized I could see them and started greeting me. [OMG, the little princess can see us!] [So you saved the true heiress because you saw our comments? You are such a sweet, kind baby!] [(Voice recording): How could the little princess read that? You have to send voice messages like me!] Soon, the words turned into a chorus of voices, making me giggle uncontrollably. Just then, the true heiress woke up. I quickly climbed onto the bed and put my hand on her forehead. Yes! Not hot anymore. She looked at me, bewildered. “Am I… seeing an angel?” She even pinched my soft cheek to see if I was real. As she pinched, tears started to fall. Seeing her cry, my own little eyes immediately welled up, and I started to wail, too. Ash stood there, completely overwhelmed by two crying girls. Finally, after his frantic efforts to calm us down, we both stopped. I sat at a little table, eating a tiny cake, while Ash explained the whole situation to the girl. When he asked her if she would be my “doll” (my word, not his), a flicker of confusion crossed her face, but she nodded anyway. The floating text laughed: [True Heiress: I don’t get it, but whatever the angel says, I’ll do it.] 3 Ash explained that because of the fake heiress Gemma’s constant interference, the Harts had never legally transferred Callie’s residency status. Upon hearing Callie’s story, Daddy learned about the whole baby-swap conspiracy where the Greers (Callie’s swapper parents) had tried to repeat the trick with me. He was furious and had the Greers arrested immediately. To thank Callie, Daddy made a grand gesture: he officially adopted her. Her new name was to be Summer Cole. The moment she held her new I.D. card, Summer murmured: “It only took an hour to change my name.” “And those awful people… they really should have been arrested years ago.” “I guess…” It seemed she was about to cry again. Ash cut her off immediately. Summer touched the small, fluffy rabbit mask that Ash had just placed on her face. “Moo?” Ash glanced at me, completely engrossed in counting ants nearby, and let out a sigh of relief. “Miss Summer, I am begging you. I cannot lose the six-figure salary I just negotiated. You cry, Little Miss cries. It’s a whole thing.” The floating text went wild with laughter: [Who gets me? I was about to get emotional, and Ash just killed the mood!] [Ash: Please, Grandma, don’t cry. If you cry, Little Miss cries, and I get penalized.] [Hahahaha, the working man, Ash: I know you’re sad, but please be sad silently.] [Am I the only one who broke down when I heard ‘six-figure salary’? Dude, let me play your part!] I turned around, my eyes widening. I scurried over. “Ash, I want a rabbit mask just like Sister’s!” Hehe, not only did Piper have a rabbit mask, but I also had a big sister now! I was beyond happy. 4 For the first few days Summer was home, she was always so cautious and walked on eggshells. That wouldn’t do. I decided I needed to take her out to play in the sandpit and help her relax. It was my favorite game! I called my neighbors, Brooks and Violet, and made sure to grab a pink bucket and a small shovel specifically for Summer. “Sister, here you go!” I shoved the tools into her hands. “It’s so much fun!” Summer took the tools and crouched by the sandpit, watching us. She asked Ash, “Do rich kids play in the dirt? I thought Gemma had to go to debutante finishing school and social etiquette classes her entire life.” Ash replied, “That’s for regular wealthy families who need to marry their daughters off. The Coles don’t. Mr. Cole said he’s going to give the Little Miss a happy childhood.” Summer nodded, falling silent, but I saw the look of pure envy on her face as she watched us. Brooks was already piling sand into a massive castle. Violet was shaping a mud cake. I quickly squatted down and began digging a hole. I announced, “I’m going to dig a super big swimming pool!” Brooks laughed at me. “You said that last time, and you only dug a tiny puddle.” “This time is for real!” I huffed. Summer looked at me and asked quietly, “Can I help you?” “Of course, you can!” I said joyfully. “We’ll dig together!” Summer picked up the little shovel and started digging with me. Her movements were slow, and she didn’t move much sand, but she was smiling. The floating comments drifted by: [Summer is so gentle. My heart breaks seeing her so tentative.] [She’s probably never been allowed to play like this before.] [Definitely not. In the Greer house, it’s a miracle she even survived.] I was about to talk to Summer when I heard a sharp, shrill voice. “Callie Greer? What are you doing here?” We looked up and saw three people standing by the sandpit. I remembered them. They had tried to talk to me at a party Daddy hosted. They looked furious. Summer’s hand gave a sudden twitch, and her little shovel clattered into the sandpit. The man, Mr. Hart, pointed at Summer and started berating her. “Your father knows you have resentment, but running off like this—what kind of behavior is that? Gemma is the daughter we raised. It’s perfectly normal for us to favor her! Didn’t she share our love with you for eighteen years?” Huh? My little five-year-old brain was growing new wrinkles. Adults have the strangest morals. Mrs. Hart frowned. “Come home with us! Playing with a bunch of common kids, how will you ever marry well if people hear about this!” I looked at Brooks and Violet, still absorbed in their play. Brooks was the son of a shipping billionaire, and Violet’s father was a real estate titan. Gemma stood off to the side, fake-crying. “Sister, if you wanted Dad and Mom’s attention, you could just say so! How could you pretend to die? Do you know how worried they were? They cried!” Summer kept her head down, saying nothing. I saw her hand trembling. The floating text exploded: [Seriously! How did these three nutcases find her?] [Pretend to die? She was actually dying! If Piper hadn’t found her, she’d be dead right now!] [The fake heiress is putting on a show again. The Academy owes her an Oscar.] I was mad. Super mad! This was my sister! How dare they yell at her! I shot to my feet, grabbed my small shovel, and rushed in front of Summer, arms spread wide. “Go away!” I yelled. “Don’t you dare yell at my sister!” The three Harts froze. Gemma looked at me with disgust. “Ugh, who is this filthy child? She stinks!” She lifted her foot to kick me. But the next second, Gemma was sent flying two yards away. Wow! Summer and I looked up at Ash in total awe. Mrs. Hart shrieked, running to pick up Gemma. “Gemma! Are you hurt?” “Do you even know who I am? Who authorized you to kick…” Mr. Hart looked furiously at Ash, but the moment he saw Ash’s face, his words caught in his throat. He put on a sickly-sweet smile. “Ah, Mr. Ashton. Is that you?”