Chapter 1

Before my twin sister passed away, she clung to our parents' hands and whispered, "I really don't want to leave Lola behind..."

To grant her dying wish, my parents actually buried me alive, just so I could keep her company in the afterlife.

"You have to look after your sister, okay?" they commanded coldly before I drew my last breath. "Don't let those wandering ghosts pick on her, you hear me?"

*****

My dead sister lay still beside me, her smile just as beautiful and warm as always. She seemed like a delicate doll falling asleep.

The air inside the coffin was getting thinner, and I was gasping for breath. The suffocating pressure came crashing down, stealing away my consciousness.

Struggling, I forced my eyes wide open.

Damn it! I didn't want to die!

I was alive! Why did they have to bury me with her?

Just as I was about to lose consciousness, my vision suddenly sharpened.

Then, I saw a butterfly tattoo on my sister's neck.

Wait, that tattoo...

*****

"It's Emma... That's my Emma! I'm sure of it!"

I woke up to the sound of my mom sobbing, her arms wrapped tightly around a teenage girl. Both of them were crying their hearts out.

A rickety wooden door, faded old decor, and the air reeked of decay... On the table sat two vintage white porcelain cups.

Was this... the True Heart Orphanage from ten years ago?

A chilly breeze drifted in, making me shiver, and I snapped fully awake.

But I remained confused until I met the gaze of that girl. I'd been reborn, right on the day Emma was taken home.

That girl peeked at me, a little shy, and then flashed me a sweet smile.

Just like what she had done in my previous life.

Thinking back to that final moment before I died, I sprang to my feet.

My chair let out a loud creak, and everyone in the director's office turned to stare at me.

But I ignored everyone else and rushed straight to her.

Her eyes were wide and misty as she nervously hid her face in Mom's arms.

Mom wiped away her tears and said, "Lola, this is your real sister. From now on, you two have to be good to each other, okay?"

"Mom, how do you know she's really my sister?" I asked quietly, glancing at her.

The director jumped in, "The DNA results came in yesterday, and the birthmark matches too—so you've got double proof. You don't have to worry, Ms. Brooks."

I looked at the director. She was about Mom's age, but looked way older than she should have, probably from all the years she'd devoted to this orphanage.

"Birthmark? Where is it?" I asked, glancing at her.

The director smiled and said to Mom, "She's quite cautious, isn't she?"

Then, she stepped forward and gently unbuttoned Emma's collar, and a brown butterfly-shaped birthmark came into our view.

"Does that put your mind at ease?" the director asked.

No, something was definitely off.

Back in that coffin, the butterfly birthmark I saw was only half there, just like a faded tattoo.

I snuck another glance at her neck. Just as I suspected, there were faint red marks around the edges—like it'd just been inked. Nobody would ever notice unless they looked at it carefully.

Our family had been searching for Emma for over a decade, and her obvious birthmark was no secret. Anyone could've found out about it with a little asking around.

I nodded, acting like I totally bought it. But then, I said I needed to use the restroom and ducked out of the director's office.

Outside, our driver was already waiting. Once the paperwork was sorted, we'd be leaving this orphanage.

If I remembered right, this place would be burned to the ground tonight, nothing left but ashes.

Most of the kids wouldn't make it out, and the director, shattered by the tragedy, would leave the city behind and vanish into the countryside, never to be seen again.

But the fire was just too sudden and bizarre.

Time was running out. There was no way this shabby, dirt-poor orphanage could pull off faking a DNA test by bribing a hospital. If the report was legit, then there had to be another girl here with a butterfly birthmark.

She was my true sister. And she was dying.

Chapter 1

Before my twin sister passed away, she clung to our parents' hands and whispered, "I really don't want to leave Lola behind..."

To grant her dying wish, my parents actually buried me alive, just so I could keep her company in the afterlife.

"You have to look after your sister, okay?" they commanded coldly before I drew my last breath. "Don't let those wandering ghosts pick on her, you hear me?"

*****

My dead sister lay still beside me, her smile just as beautiful and warm as always. She seemed like a delicate doll falling asleep.

The air inside the coffin was getting thinner, and I was gasping for breath. The suffocating pressure came crashing down, stealing away my consciousness.

Struggling, I forced my eyes wide open.

Damn it! I didn't want to die!

I was alive! Why did they have to bury me with her?

Just as I was about to lose consciousness, my vision suddenly sharpened.

Then, I saw a butterfly tattoo on my sister's neck.

Wait, that tattoo...

*****

"It's Emma... That's my Emma! I'm sure of it!"

I woke up to the sound of my mom sobbing, her arms wrapped tightly around a teenage girl. Both of them were crying their hearts out.

A rickety wooden door, faded old decor, and the air reeked of decay... On the table sat two vintage white porcelain cups.

Was this... the True Heart Orphanage from ten years ago?

A chilly breeze drifted in, making me shiver, and I snapped fully awake.

But I remained confused until I met the gaze of that girl. I'd been reborn, right on the day Emma was taken home.

That girl peeked at me, a little shy, and then flashed me a sweet smile.

Just like what she had done in my previous life.

Thinking back to that final moment before I died, I sprang to my feet.

My chair let out a loud creak, and everyone in the director's office turned to stare at me.

But I ignored everyone else and rushed straight to her.

Her eyes were wide and misty as she nervously hid her face in Mom's arms.

Mom wiped away her tears and said, "Lola, this is your real sister. From now on, you two have to be good to each other, okay?"

"Mom, how do you know she's really my sister?" I asked quietly, glancing at her.

The director jumped in, "The DNA results came in yesterday, and the birthmark matches too—so you've got double proof. You don't have to worry, Ms. Brooks."

I looked at the director. She was about Mom's age, but looked way older than she should have, probably from all the years she'd devoted to this orphanage.

"Birthmark? Where is it?" I asked, glancing at her.

The director smiled and said to Mom, "She's quite cautious, isn't she?"

Then, she stepped forward and gently unbuttoned Emma's collar, and a brown butterfly-shaped birthmark came into our view.

"Does that put your mind at ease?" the director asked.

No, something was definitely off.

Back in that coffin, the butterfly birthmark I saw was only half there, just like a faded tattoo.

I snuck another glance at her neck. Just as I suspected, there were faint red marks around the edges—like it'd just been inked. Nobody would ever notice unless they looked at it carefully.

Our family had been searching for Emma for over a decade, and her obvious birthmark was no secret. Anyone could've found out about it with a little asking around.

I nodded, acting like I totally bought it. But then, I said I needed to use the restroom and ducked out of the director's office.

Outside, our driver was already waiting. Once the paperwork was sorted, we'd be leaving this orphanage.

If I remembered right, this place would be burned to the ground tonight, nothing left but ashes.

Most of the kids wouldn't make it out, and the director, shattered by the tragedy, would leave the city behind and vanish into the countryside, never to be seen again.

But the fire was just too sudden and bizarre.

She was my true sister. And she was dying.