Come Collect My Body Brother

My boyfriend and my brothers fiance killed themselves together. They left a joint suicide note that went viral, making my brother and me the absolute villainsthe heartless family members who drove the fated lovers to their end.
Grant blamed me for dating Leoa man who was nothing more than a pretty face and a club promoter.
I blamed him for falling for Skylar, the conniving saint who had him wrapped around her finger.
We despised each others choices, and we were always trying to trip the other up. Now, the hatred was boundless. I hired people to trash every last thing Skylar owned. He scattered Leos ashes into the ocean.
We finally exhausted ourselves, swearing we would never see each other again.
He went overseas, becoming an aid doctor for an NGO. I stayed behind, opening a small, exclusive place called The Broth House. I became the local legendthe "Broth House Beauty" who could fix any ailment with a bowl of soup.
1
The cashier had gone home after the last delivery was confirmed. I stayed to close up. On the small TV above the counter, the news was broadcasting the return of the celebrated international aid doctor, Grant Bell. The former scion of a powerhouse family was now the ultimate white-coat hero. The media was in a frenzy over his return to The City.
I barely registered the throbbing in my finger until I looked downa small gash from clearing the knives.
I cleaned the wound quickly, ready to lock up and head home.
Just then, a girl walked in. She was beautiful, with an innocent, almost startled look. Thank God youre still here, Boss, she said, looking relieved. Can I get an order of the Signature Seafood Stew?
Due to my declining health, it was the only dish I made now. And it was sold out.
The girls face fell, filled with disappointment.
Last time I got some, my brother said it was the best thing hed ever eaten, she explained. He just got back from overseas. I wanted to surprise him with it.
I cant believe I rushed here for nothing.
She pulled out a wad of cash. Please, Ill pay ten times the price. Twenty times! Could you please just make one batch?
Before I could refuse, the door opened again. It was Drew. He stopped dead when he saw me. He quickly whispered to the girl, Willow, lets just go to another place. Grant will like anything you get him.
No.
Willow was gentle but firm, refusing Grants best friend, Drew. She turned back to me, smiling. Boss, I know its an imposition, but my brother is always busy abroad and has a serious stomach condition. He barely ate anything I brought him last timeexcept for your stew. He must really love it. Could you please make an exception?
She was polite, and the request wasn't out of line. I couldnt refuse.
I told her to wait outside and walked to the back kitchen. My steps felt heavy, dragging. It wasn't the sudden re-introduction of my past that weighed me down. It was the fact that my illnesslate-stage cancerwas accelerating. It was incurable, and I was living on borrowed time, kept functional only by pain medication, waiting for the inevitable.
Drew, my brother is on his way to pick me up. Will you go wait outside for him and just have him come straight here?
I could hear them in the dining area. Drew was trying to convince Willow to leave.
You and Grant should just go. Ill grab the stew and bring it to you.
Drew clearly didn't want the two of usthe former disaster siblingsto be in the same room. Our last few encounters had been borderline psychotic.
On the television, Grant was still smiling for the camera, though his eyes held that familiar, untouchable coldness.
I have a sister, he was saying. I came back to The City to spend time with her, as shes been alone for too long.
My hand froze. I looked up and saw the rose tattoo on his arm. It was inked right where a deep, ugly scar used to be. A scar I put there with a broken piece of ceramic. I almost ruined his hand that night.
I had the crisscrossing scars on my backwhip marks hed given me. I remembered the blood, the fear that a bone might be fractured. Wed been locked in a cycle of mutual destruction for years: I'd do the unforgivable, and he'd do the unthinkable, each aiming to inflict maximum, soul-crushing pain.
But neither of us could actually kill the other. We were bloodthe closest and farthest kin in the world. And because of that, I knew with chilling certainty: the sister he spoke of was not me.
Outside, Willow was ignoring Drew and gossiping.
I heard Grant used to have a real sister here in The Citya complete mess, addicted to dating male escorts, who even caused his fiances death. Is that true?
I kept cleaning the produce, pretending I couldn't feel Drews nervous eyes darting my way.
Grant!
The wind chime above the door jingled, followed by Willows bright, excited laugh.
How did you get here so fast?
She rushed into his arms. The awkward tension in the shop shattered. Grant caught her, a genuine, fond warmth flashing in his eyes as he lightly ruffled her hair. Why so frantic, Willow? What if you fall?
Im not scared.
Willow clung to his arm, radiant. The elegant, soft-spoken girl was now bubbly and adorable around him.
My brother would never let me get hurt.
Seven years. I hadn't expected this reunion, or this sudden, gut-wrenching contrast. Our eyes met across the counter. No hysteria, no raw hatred, just the calm, unnerving silence of strangers.
Willow introduced us, radiant. Boss, this is my brother. Hes the doctor on the news.
I just hummed in response and turned back to the stove.
Drew edged closer, lowering his voice.
Avery, today is Grants birthday can you just not provoke him?
He remembered the old days when we would go to war on sight. He paused, then tried again: Willow is only eighteen, completely innocent. She knows nothing, so if you
The Signature Seafood Stew was bubbling furiously in the pot. I stirred it slowly. She is definitely more well-behaved and sensible than I ever was.
Grant returned after sending Willow to the car to wait.
What is it, Avery? Planning something against my sister already? His smile was tight, his eyes full of suspicion and pure loathing.
Drews hands clenched into fists, bracing himself for the old Avery.
I turned the heat off and packaged the stew, sliding the container across the counter.
Signature Seafood Stew. Thank you for your business.
Willow ran in, her eyes lighting up when she saw the container. Brother, you just flew in, open it and eat a little! She looked at Grant with such genuine, intimate warmth.
Grant, who always hated eating outside, surprisingly opened the package and started drinking the stew, spoon after spoon.
Its good, right? You loved it last time! Willows eyes were glued to his face, full of pride and delight. I had to beg the boss for ages just to get her to make it!
Grant lowered the spoon, his expression suddenly bland. Its fine, I guess. Nothing special. Maybe I was just starving last time.
Really?
Willow didn't believe him. She leaned in, tasted a spoonful, then playfully glared at Grant. Thats a lie! Its delicious! Seeing the slight smirk on his face, she instantly understood and playfully hit his arm. Oh, Grant! You tricked me!
She was teasing; he was smiling.
But the moment those warm, smiling eyes swept past me, they would instantly turn cold.
Grant, welcome home! The door chime signaled the arrival of a horde of his friends, squeezing into the small space for an impromptu party.
One of them saw me, jaw dropping, then discreetly nudged the others, pointing.
I was exhausted. I picked up my bag and started walking toward them. Several people instinctively backed away, a few even making moves to turn and leave, as if afraid I might attack them.
Right. I started learning martial arts in middle school. During the years Grant and I were tearing each other apart, they often got caught in the crossfire. One guy once hired someone to jump me to avenge Grant; I broke a few of his teeth instead.
One friend quietly asked Grant, confused:
Grant, whats going on?
Grant was silent, subtly moving to shield Willow.
Im closing up now. Could you all please leave?
Sister, Willow suddenly grabbed my arm. Cant you let us stay a little longer?
No.
I pulled my arm away, stood at the doorway, and looked at them blankly. Please leave.
Grant scoffed, looking me up and down. A business owner who doesnt want money? Name your price for the evening, Avery. You can personally serve us.
I only repeated, louder: Please leave.
A sudden shove sent a sharp pain up my arm. I gasped, stumbling to the floor, my bag scattering its contents. I scrambled to gather everything, but a hand clamped violently onto my chin.
The next moment, a black card was flung onto my face. The money on this is more than enough to buy this miserable little shop and you.
I slapped his hand away, quickly collecting my things, and used a stool by the door to leverage myself up. The rage was a white-hot sickness.
His friends laughed. The guy who shoved me snickered.
Grant, Avery looks pretty desperate these days. Maybe throw her a bone. Shes willing to bend over for a few hundred bucks. He pulled out a few hundred-dollar bills and threw them at my feet. Pick them up, theyre yours.
I picked up the nearest potted plant and smashed it across his ankle. As he doubled over, howling, I grabbed his hair and slammed his head against the bar. Blood gushed from his forehead.
Youre too soft to be running your mouth around me, I sneered.
In one quick motion, I turned, delivering a round of sharp slaps to the other loudmouths.
Thats what you get for shooting off your mouth.
Then I took the container of leftover stewthe one Id packaged for my own dinnerand poured it directly over the head of the worst offender. Rice, eggs, and herbs dripped down his face, instantly turning him into the most humiliated mess in the room.
The air went silent.
No one dared to challenge me. These few seconds were enough to remind them of the days I ruled their fear, a fallen queen who would never be a tame little chick.
Drew stayed far back, sighing, "Why did you have to provoke her?" Willow rushed up to me. Boss, even if they were wrong, you shouldnt hit people! Her eyes were clear and wide, like a princess who'd never seen the real world.
I looked right at Grant. Take your people and get out!
You are going too far!
Willow was furious that I yelled at her brother. She raised her hand to hit me.
I snatched her wrist and whipped my hand back, delivering a stinging slap to her cheek.
What about it? I said, enunciating every word. I am this toxic.
Willow began to cry.
Grant pulled her into his arms, soothing her, his face darkening. The familiar, intense hatred I knew so well blazed in his eyes.
You can hit me, Avery. I wont retaliate against you.
He looked at her tear-stained face.
But you should never have touched her.
A line of men in black suits appeared at the door. They squeezed into my small shop.
Smash this place.
Grant gave the order. The men scattered.
CRASH!
The shop window shattered.
CLATTER!
Pots and pans crashed to the floor of the kitchen.
I stood at the doorway, rain and cold wind hitting my face.
It was so cold.
Its just a shop. Send the bill to Bell Industries accounts payable. Ill pay for the whole thing.
Suddenly, the prescription pill bottle in the counter drawer was knocked to the floor and rolled to my feet. I snatched it up, but Grant lunged, seizing my hand, his gaze narrowed on the prescription.
What is this?
Melatonin, I lied, pulling free and swallowing four pills.
The label did read Melatonin, but he scoffed. Four pills at once? Youre trying to kill yourself. He snatched the bottle and threw it out into the heavy rain, then walked away with his entourage.
I ran out into the downpour, retrieving the bottle. The pain flared, cold and bone-deep, and I collapsed onto the wet ground.
I sat in the rain, shivering, and swallowed two more pills. These were prescription controlled pain medication. From half a tablet a day, I was now taking six at a time. The cancer was eating me alive.
I knew I didnt have long.

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