ALS left me with little time, so I called the one person who had hated me for seven long years: my brother. I needed his signature for my body donation agreement, and he gave it without reading a single word. From there, he followed his stepsister’s lead—driving me to resign, shaming me publicly, and stripping away what was left of my pride. To everyone else, I was just a selfish child who chose wealth over my mother. I never defended myself, because death was already waiting for me. Yet after my body reached the medical school, the seven-year lie finally broke open. In the end, the brother who despised me most was left sobbing over my suicide note. This time, no one would spare him.
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