My parents spoiled me rotten, indulging my every whim.

They poured everything into giving me the perfect life—spending their savings on a beautiful house just for me.

When I mentioned craving a cake from across town, Dad would stand in the rain for hours to get it.

Mom's phone was filled with pictures of me, capturing every moment from my birth to age five.

Then Delia, my little sister, came along. Mom promised, "We’ll love you both equally. She’s just here to be your playmate."

At first, nothing changed. My parents’ love for me only grew stronger.

But then, one day, I turned the AC down a notch, thinking it might help cool Delia's fever.

Mom suddenly slapped me across the face, tears streaming down. "I was always pushed aside by my younger siblings. I promised you wouldn’t feel that way! But how could you be so cruel?"

She dragged me to the fridge, locked me inside, and spat, "Stay in there until you learn your lesson."

I tried to explain, but Dad’s voice cut through. "Enough! We need to get Delia to the hospital!"

I heard their footsteps fade away.

But they forgot one thing—our fridge had a strong magnetic seal. A child couldn’t open it from the inside.

I curled up in the cold, my mind growing hazy, wondering if I said I was sorry, would they love me again?

***

My body grew numb. I tried to push the door, but my small hands had no strength left.

Mom and Dad had chosen this fridge because it was child-proof. Now it was my prison.

I tried to scream, but no sound came out. They'd taken Delia to the hospital. I was alone. No one would hear me.

The cold bit through my clothes. I couldn't stop shaking.

Then, the door opened. Hope rushed through me. They must be back for me!

Their voices drifted over.

Mom sounded annoyed. "I can't believe you forgot Delia's jacket! She has a fever. What if her condition gets worse? Little kids can't handle being cold like this."

Dad quickly nodded. "My fault. Let's just drive straight to the hospital. We can't risk it."

I banged on the fridge door, but only a faint sound came out.

They didn't hear me.

Thankfully, they suddenly remembered I was there and called my name toward the fridge.

I tried to move, but I was frozen—my arms, my legs, even my thoughts felt slow.

When I didn't answer, Mom snapped, "She must be in her room sulking. Who taught her to be so selfish? Can't even take a little punishment."

"That's just how kids are," Dad said. "Forget Ophelia for now. Delia's the one who's sick. She's so young, so fragile. Better hurry up."

And they walked away again.

The front door slammed shut.

The last bit of light in the fridge seemed to vanish.

My thoughts drifted. I saw they were making a big dinner, just for me.

Mom smiled, arms open. "Ophelia, you'll always be my special girl. I'm so proud of you."

Dad held a gift, his eyes warm. "For our princess. May you always be happy."

But when I ran to them, they shoved me to the ground.

"You made Delia sick on purpose, didn't you? How could you be so evil?"

I shook my head, crying, "No! I just wanted her to be cool... I even covered her tummy... I didn't know..."

It felt like a long, dark dream. When I woke, I was outside the fridge.

I was floating, translucent. I stared at my hands, confused.

Then I heard keys turning in the door. Mom and Dad were back with Delia.

I rushed toward them, but my body passed right through their arms. I couldn't touch them.

They didn't see me. They carefully laid Delia in her crib.

When her breathing steadied, Mom sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. A low fever. If it had been serious, I'd never forgive Ophelia! She's only five and already so jealous. What will she do to Delia when she's older?"

I wanted to explain, but I passed right through her. Nothing I did mattered.

Dad sighed. "Ophelia's still little. It's probably just a phase. Where is she, anyway?"

Mom glanced around, saw my closed bedroom door, and scowled. "Hiding in her room, of course. Who raised such a drama queen?"

Dad knocked on my door. "Ophelia, come out and apologize to your mom. You're the big sister. You have to be kind to Delia."

I floated beside him, screaming, "I'm not in there!" But he didn't hear.

When I didn't answer, Mom lost it.

She saw my favorite Barbie doll on the sofa, grabbed it, and cut it into pieces with scissors.

"Stay in there forever, then! I'll break everything you love! Let's see if you dare hurt your sister again!"

Bits of fabric lay scattered like my heart, but I couldn't even cry.

Dad pulled her away. "Enough. Delia's sleeping. We'll be up all night if she wakes up. Let Ophelia be."

Mom stopped and glared at my door. "Fine. She can stay in there till she rots."

Night fell.

Before bed, Dad turned off the lights. He noticed my dark room and muttered, "Asleep already? That girl... No heart at all."

Still, he left a plate of my favorite mac and cheese in my room.

He didn't see my empty bed. And I couldn't eat it anymore.

The next morning, he left for work. "Keep an eye on Delia," he told Mom. "And check if Ophelia's come out. Don't let her sulk all day."

She waved him off. "I know."

She spent the morning playing with Delia, forgetting all about me.

When Delia got hungry and cried, Mom went to the fridge for her stored breast milk.

I tried to stop her.

I had died in that fridge. The milk couldn't be safe.

If Delia drank it, Mom would be furious.

I reached out, but she turned and went to the kitchen instead. She started making baby food.

I relaxed. At least she didn't open the fridge or find the spoiled milk.

At least I wouldn't be in trouble again.

After Delia finished eating, Mom took her downstairs to get some sun.

I hurried after them, but the moment I stepped outside, the sunlight nearly made me vanish into nothing. I had no choice but to stay hidden inside, waiting for Mom to return.

Soon, she came back with Alyvia Riley from downstairs.

When I saw this woman, I instinctively wanted to hide. I didn't realize that I was dead, and they couldn't see me until they walked right through me.

Alyvia was the person I feared the most. She'd call me "worthless" or "no-good brat" whenever she saw me.

I hated those words. She looked mean, too. More than once, when Mom wasn't looking, she'd lean in and whisper that I was adopted.

If I talked back, she'd glare at me fiercely and dig her nails into my arm.

I told Mom about it once. She was furious and went to confront Alyvia. But Alyvia just brushed it off, saying, "Daughters are nothing but a burden anyway. Can't you take a joke?"

Mom then grabbed Alyvia's grandson and warned her that if she kept talking nonsense, her precious grandson would suffer too.

After that, Alyvia didn't dare say those things to me anymore.

I'd never forget how firmly Mom held me that day, shielding me from harm.

But this time, she was the one who invited Alyvia inside.

She even kindly served her watermelon.

Alyvia bit into a slice, juice dripping all over the floor.

Mom didn't get angry. Instead, she smiled. "Alyvia, I'm counting on your son to help get Delia into that early learning class. And about what happened before, I'm sorry. Ophelia was in the wrong."

Alyvia waved her hand and snorted. "Let me tell you, that little liar in your house is rotten to the core. Faking stories at such a young age! Who knows what she'll do when she grows up!"

I clenched my little fists, furious.

Mom had always been so smart, and I never lied.

Besides, Alyvia had even spat at me and pinched me afterward—things I never got to tell Mom.

But she believed Alyvia and even peeled an apple for her.

"You're right," Mom said. "That little brat fooled me, too. Who knew she could be so malicious? I was the oldest in my family. I know what it's like to be overlooked. I won't let Delia become another me just because we have a second child."

Alyvia smiled, satisfied. "Exactly. Don't blame yourself. That little deceiver was just too good at pretending! But you'd better keep a close eye on Delia, or who knows what that brat might do to her!"

Mom seemed to take it to heart. She nodded.

I stood helplessly in front of them, tears welling in my eyes, my nose stinging.

Mom was talking so much with Alyvia.

She really didn't love me anymore.

After Alyvia left, she went back to the bedroom to be with Delia. She only came out once to heat more baby food.

It was like she'd completely forgotten about me.

That evening, Dad came home from work. Mom went to greet him, holding Delia.

He put his bag down, his eyes lighting up as he looked at my sister. "Was Delia good today? Did her fever come back?"

"She was an angel. She even napped for two hours this afternoon. Look, her little face is getting rounder!"

They walked into the bedroom, playing with Delia and chatting about all the funny things she did that day.

I floated close to Dad, trying to tug on his shirt, but my hand passed right through.

I tried to call out to him, but no sound came. I could only watch as he carried Delia out of the room, heading toward the kitchen for dinner.

They were going to pass by the refrigerator.

I couldn't help but scream, "Open the fridge! I'm still in there!"

They didn't hear me, but Dad still glanced at the refrigerator. "Are there still some ingredients inside? Maybe I'll cook something."

He reached for the handle.

I held my breath.