Love That Cannot Be Hidden

About this story

My brother has always been cold to me. Then one day, my younger sister—the fake heiress—quietly watched him. A second later, her inner voice reached my ears. [Why won’t he look at her? Right, under his pillow are all photos of her; he’s looked at them plenty already.] I set down my chopsticks and stood up, clearing my throat. “Brother, I think I dropped something in your room. Let me go look for it.” My brother suddenly reached out and seized my wrist. “Dropped what?” “It’s…” Then I heard my younger sister’s inner voice again. [Maybe she wants to go smell his scent—she does that a lot.] The hand gripping my wrist suddenly tightened. In his dark eyes was the panicked expression on my face.