Was it possible to forget your own sister's voice? Jessica wondered as she stared at a photograph of her and Krystal at her sister's high school graduation. Even then, the distance between them was obvious. Jessica had an arm around her little sister, but they were both leaning slightly apart from each other. After years of modeling experience, Jessica knew that true intentions almost always came out through body language.

She couldn't point to one instance when she and Krystal had begun to drift apart from each other. It was more accurate to say they had never been close to begin with. The age difference was one problem. Jessica had always seen her little sister as a bit of a nuisance, always trying to imitate her, stealing her clothes and trashing her room in the process. Now she realized that Krystal had admired and envied her greatly, copying her with a mix of longing and spite.

The photograph blurred and Jessica caught the tear before it left her eye. She didn't understand why her parents had suddenly begun flooding her inbox with family photos from over the years, except that it was a guilt impulse stemming from years of what they perceived as neglect. Jessica wouldn't have called it neglect, that was too strong of a word. She had enjoyed being left alone, had bragged to her friends when they complained about overbearing parents that hers let her do whatever she wanted.

At the time, she had seen it as a blessing but now she couldn't help wondering what it would have been like if things were different. If she had opened up to her parents and they had listened with more than half an ear.
Haruki often had a fond smile when she talked about her older sister, reminiscing about things they had done together as children. Jessica couldn't say the same for Krystal. She couldn't remember the last time she and her sister had done something together.

A year and a half ago, she'd received the phone call that her sister had been found and was now in the hospital. At the time, she'd only felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn't known her sister was missing, which had been overshadowed by the glee of having an excuse to leave work early. She remembered with disgust how she'd feigned distress to be allowed to go to the hospital to be with her sister.

Except she'd planned to go straight home. Halfway to her apartment, she'd gotten the phone call that her sister was dead.
She busied herself with yelling at the nurses, the doctors, and even Donghae and Haruki when they tried to question her, because being angry with other people was much easier than admitting anger towards herself. After she moved in with Haruki, she was much needed ear for Haruki to rant to about her cases, but the detective never knew that every theory she shared, every bit of the killer's profile, only made Jessica's stomach twist a little more. If she had been there for her sister, would Krystal have resorted to befriending a random stranger who pretended to understand her? If she hadn't seemingly forgotten about her sister's existence, would Krystal still be alive?

Jessica never knew if she was mourning the relationship she'd had with her sister, or the one she would never have now. As if trying to make up for all the years she hadn't thought about Krystal, her mind was now constantly preoccupied by thoughts such as, "I wonder what she would think of" whatever, or "I wish she were here to" discuss something or other. In her mind, Jessica sometimes pretended that Krystal were still alive and would mentally ask for her opinion on an article of clothing, a cute guy at the bar, or a book she was reading.

But the questions were never answered because Jessica didn't know the answers. She hadn't really known what Krystal was like well enough to understand her interests and dislikes. And now she would never find out. All this desperate wishful thinking was her way of dealing with her guilt. It was all too little, too late. 

Her computer dinged to announce a new unread email and Jessica sighed when she saw it was another message from her mother. She clicked it open to find a picture of a proud little girl, sitting on the front steps of their house beaming down at the baby sister she held in her arms. She remembered too well what she'd said to her parents on their way home from the hospital: "I'm going to be the best sister ever!" 

Jessica angrily jabbed her finger on the power button until her computer screen shuddered and faded to black. She shoved off from her desk and stormed blindly away from the computer, struggling to hold back the tears b in her eyes.