A week before my release, I hadn’t yet been freed when I checked my messages. It was from my college friend Jack, who said, “Avery, I hope you see this message when you open WhatsAPP. Contact me ASAP!”

“Avery, they say you intentionally hurt someone. I don’t believe it!”

“Avery, are you okay?”

I thought for a moment and replied, “I’m out now and doing fine.”

The charge against me was intentional harm. Since the person didn’t die, I was only sentenced to three years. Why didn’t he speak up for me, knowing I was wronged?

I pondered this question for three years in prison.

Jack’s reply came quickly: “Where are you? I’ll come find you!”

“I only have one place to go. When you come, bring some food and a phone. I don’t have one, and it’s inconvenient to contact others without it.” I’d rather trust someone who has consistently reached out to me over the past three years than believe in any affection from my family.

I intentionally didn’t tell him where I was.

Because he knew where I’d be.

Jack simply responded, “Wait for me!”

Jack was my childhood friend. We grew up together and later attended the same university, though in different departments. When I went to prison, he was in his third year. It’s been three years now, so he must have graduated over a year ago.

Bradley persistently knocked on the door, his voice growing hoarse, “Avie, you’re my sister. How could we not care about you?”

As if their adopted daughter Sarah mattered more to them than their biological daughter or sister. Did I really want such affection?

Three years ago, while I was in class, Bradley called me: “Avie, come home quickly. Mom is very ill. Hurry!”

With Grandpa and Grandma gone, my mother and Bradley were my last family. Hearing that Mom was gravely ill, I quickly asked for leave from my professor to go see her.

The school was only a few hours' drive from home.

When I got home, Mom was perfectly fine. She handed me a knife.

Sarah was crying beside her, “Avie, help me and your brother. If you don’t, our family will fall apart.”

At first, I was confused until I saw the bloodied figure lying on the floor.

There was blood everywhere, including on the three of them.

“You’re my sister. In this family, you should contribute too. You’ll take the fall for Sara. When you get out, we’ll make it up to you.” Bradley pushed me down next to the bloodied person.

I was covered in blood as well.

Mom picked up the phone and dialed the police: “Hello, police? I need to report a crime. My daughter Avery has committed murder.”

“I didn’t kill anyone!” The person still had a pulse; he was just motionless. My head was still spinning: “I don’t even know him!”

“The weapon is in your hand. We—three of us—saw you kill him. We couldn’t stop you!” Sarah elbowed Bradley: “You two had your issues, but that doesn’t mean you can commit murder!”

The person wasn’t dead!

I naively thought that when the police arrived, they and the man on the floor would prove my innocence.

But when the injured man woke up, he insisted I was the one who stabbed him. My mother, brother, and Sarah all insisted they had seen me commit the murder.

Intentional harm, sentenced to five years with two years suspended.

On the day I was imprisoned, I received an expulsion notice from the university.

After my imprisonment, I continuously tried to appeal, but each attempt failed.

After several failed attempts, I gave up.

Eventually, I realized that when Bradley called me back home to see Mom, it was actually a ploy to make me take the fall for Sarah!

Mom was never ill.

Once I confirmed they didn’t see me as family, I was utterly disheartened!

It was as if, upon realizing the full truth, Avery they once knew had already died.

On visiting days, neither my mother nor Bradley came to see me, not even once.