Chapter 1
When the judge asked if I was guilty, my mom nodded from the gallery, her eyes swollen from crying.
She was afraid I wouldn't understand, so she silently mouthed "guilty" at me.
My dad kept his head down, while my brother, Javier Foley, stared at me, his gaze a silent warning.
On the other side of the courtroom, the victim's family sat, clutching a black-and-white photo of their loved one.
And my adopted sister, Noelle Foley, sat in a wheelchair in a hospital gown with a pale face.
She took my place and went to college for four years.
She used my name to win scholarships, get into grad school, and even score an internship at a law firm.
Now, after she killed someone in a drunk-driving accident, my whole family wanted me to take the rap for her and do the time in her place.
They said, "Ava, your life is already ruined. Noelle can't be ruined."
But what they didn't know was that I'd been waiting for this trial for four years.
After the clerk finished reading the case, my lawyer, Elle Gardner, pushed a brown paper bag toward me.
I reached inside and felt the acceptance letter that should have come four years ago. Suddenly, I smiled.
This time, everyone who should be behind bars would finally receive their sentence.
*****
The courtroom was silent.
But Noelle suddenly burst into loud sobs.
She clutched her chest, her shoulders trembling so hard it looked like she might pass out any second.
My mom jumped to her feet.
"Your Honor, my daughter isn't well. She can't handle any more stress," she pleaded.
The judge banged his gavel.
"Everyone in the gallery, keep quiet," he ordered.
After my mom sat back down, her eyes stayed glued to me.
I knew that look all too well.
From childhood on, whenever Noelle messed up, Mom would always turn to me with that same look.
When Noelle broke a vase, Mom gave me that look.
When Noelle stole a classmate's bracelet, Mom gave me that look.
When Noelle flunked the SAT and sobbed about not wanting to retake it, Mom still gave me that look.
That look always meant just one thing.
"Ava, you're the older sister. You need to let her have her way."
As the prosecutor read the charges aloud, Noelle kept her head down, quietly wiping her tears.
"Defendant Ava Foley, you got into a crash, ran off, and someone died because of it."
Every word felt like a nail being driven into me.
The victim's mom just lost it.
She wailed. "My son was only twenty-six.
"Why didn't you help him? You hit him.
"How could you just leave him there and run?"
She was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, her grip wrinkling the photo in her hand.
I stared at that young face, my throat tightening.
I wasn't the one behind the wheel.
I wasn't the one who hit him.
But for the past four years, someone else was in the driver's seat of my life, and they wrecked it beyond repair.
Noelle looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She said, "Ava, I'm sorry.
"If you hadn't gone out to pick me up, you wouldn't have been driving that night."
People in the gallery started whispering to each other.
"Her younger sister looks so pitiful."
"The older sister hit someone, and the younger one is still defending her."
My mom heard those whispers and, as she'd finally grabbed onto a lifeline, immediately started crying and chimed in.
My mom pleaded, "Ava, please, say something.
"Noelle has to take pills every day because of what you've done. How long are you going to keep making her worry about you?"
My dad's face was grim.
He said, "Ava, if you did something wrong, own up to it.
"The Foleys wouldn't raise daughters who dodge responsibility."
That almost made me laugh.
He said that the Foleys wouldn't raise daughters who dodged responsibility.
But they raised one who stole my ID, pretended to be me at school, and cleaned off the steering wheel after killing someone.
Javier sat next to my mom, his voice barely above a whisper.
He said, "Ava, don't lose it here.
"Noelle's already got her spot in grad school. Her life is just getting started."
I turned to look at him, my gaze slow and deliberate.
"And what about my life?" I asked.
Javier frowned.
"Do you really have to bring this up now?" he said.
I didn't look at him again.
Because four years ago, he said the same thing to me.
That year, when the SAT scores came out, I found out I'd gotten into the law school at Natarhen University.
I was crying in the living room, hugging my phone, my hands shaking so much I couldn't even take a screenshot.
I thought I could finally escape the Foley family.
I thought I'd finally be free from hearing "You're the older sister" every single day.
Noelle sat on the other end of the couch, her face growing paler by the minute.
She'd bombed the exam.
Even getting into a run-of-the-mill local cummunity college was a long shot for her.
My mom spent the whole night holding her, trying to soothe her.
The next morning, my acceptance letter was gone.
My ID was gone, too.
I asked my mom about it, but she was in the kitchen making oatmeal and didn't even look back at me.
"Noelle's not well. She can't handle the stress of repeating a year," she said.