My Wedding Gift from My Sister

My name is Jennifer Jones, and I have lived my whole life under the "tests" imposed by my older sister, Charlotte Jones. In fifth grade, she stuffed a cheat sheet filled with answers into the pocket of my school uniform. When the teacher found it, she stood nearby and said, "I just wanted to see if my sister would be honest." That day, I was punished by having to stand for two classes, and when I got home, Mom slapped me. I explained everything to my parents, but they just said, "How could your older sister harm you? You must have wanted to cheat yourself." From then on, I knew that in this family, my older sister was always right. The year I graduated middle school, rumors spread that I was dating a boy early. It wasn't until later that I found out Charlotte had written a love letter to that boy using my name and deliberately made sure the homeroom teacher saw it. My parents didn't ask me a single question; they just locked me in my room. Dad held a feather duster and said, "How old are you, and you're still misbehaving?" I cried, insisting it wasn't me who wrote it. Charlotte pushed the door open, clinging to my parents' arms and said, "Don't be angry, maybe someone is playing a prank. I'll ask my sister again for you." Her looking out for me act made me feel sick and helpless. In high school, she became even more ruthless. During a monthly exam, she copied my handwriting and wrote "Teacher, I like you" on the back of my exam paper. The math teacher called me into the office, his face dark with anger, and asked me what had happened. My mind went blank, and all I could say over and over was, "I didn't write that." The matter eventually reached home; my parents told me to apologize to the teacher. I refused, so they punished me by forbidding me from going out for a whole month. Charlotte left a bowl of noodles at my door and whispered, "Little sister, I know it wasn't you, but Mom and Dad are only doing this for your own good. Just admit you're wrong." I looked at that bowl of noodles, and for the first time, I felt genuine hatred for her. I thought that once I got to college, I could finally put some distance between us. But she made sure to take the exam in the same city as me and often showed up at my school to "visit" me. Every time she came, she'd tell my roommates, "My little sister's always been shy; please look out for her," then turn around and say to others, "My sister's a bit strange; don't get too close to her." After graduating, I landed a decent job and met Ethan Stafford. Ethan was kind and thoughtful. Once he learned about my family situation, he comforted me, saying, "From now on, you have me." We had been dating for two years and decided to get married. The day before the wedding, Charlotte Jones came to see me, smiling as she said: "Sister, for tomorrow's wedding, I've prepared a surprise for you — it's the final test of your relationship with Ethan Stafford." A chill ran down my spine, an ominous feeling stirring deep inside me. But I never expected that her "test" would destroy my entire life. On the wedding day, the hotel's big screen was supposed to display our wedding photos. But when the music started, a scandalous video appeared on the screen instead. The woman in the video was bare-chested, her face clearly swapped with mine. The entire room fell silent instantly, followed by a rising tide of whispers. I froze in place, my mind blank, only catching someone say, "I never thought Jennifer Jones could be like this," and "Ethan Stafford is so unlucky." Ethan stood beside me, his face pale. He looked at me with eyes full of disappointment and anger. I wanted to speak, but it felt like my throat was blocked; not a single word came out. The video kept replaying—99 times in total. Every time it plays, it feels like my heart is being sliced open. Ethan Stafford suddenly shoved me aside and ran out of the hotel like a madman. I tried to chase after him, but the crowd blocked my way. Before long, someone burst in shouting, "Bad news—Ethan Stafford was hit by a truck." I stumbled to the hotel entrance and saw only a pool of blood; Ethan Stafford lay on the ground, completely still. In that moment, I felt like the whole world was crashing down.