Ring, ring—

The phone rang again. The screen displayed a dozen missed calls from her.

Victoria was relentlessly dialing my number.

"Sis, tomorrow's our birthday, make sure to come early, okay?"

I didn't respond to her invitation, but she continued talking.

"Mom made so many dishes, and she bought a huge mango cake!"

She continued to share her excitement, but I couldn't empathize with her joy.

Because I'm allergic to mangoes.

And August third—that's her birthday, not mine.

My birthday is in the winter.

A sharp bitterness stung my nose, my vision blurred, and I quickly lowered my head, sniffling.

"Oh, and sis, my boyfriend's coming too!"

Her upbeat tone...