Chapter 1

We were the most notorious "hate siblings" in all of Wexford City.

Declan Howard was the untouchable golden boy who always got exactly what he wanted.

And I was the girl who hit back twice as hard.

At our worst, he sent his guys to break three of my ribs, and I shattered a bottle over his head in return.

People couldn't stop talking about us. "See? He used to spoil her like crazy, but the moment the real daughter came home, the fake one didn't stand a chance."

But the truth was, Declan didn't need to do anything to take me down.

I was already dying on my own.

*****

When I pushed open the doors of Howard Manor, the house was filled with laughter.

Madeline Howard was twirling in front of Declan in a pearl-white dress—my favorite dress.

Mom had designed it for me on my eighteenth birthday.

"Decky, do I look pretty?" she asked, her voice syrupy sweet.

Declan ruffled her hair. "Pretty. My sister looks good in anything."

Then he saw me. His smile vanished, replaced by a cold sneer. "And you still have the nerve to come back?"

Two weeks ago, after I slapped Madeline across the face, he sent his guys to break three of my ribs.

When the wounds hadn't even healed yet, I smashed a bottle over his head.

This was the first time I'd returned since.

Madeline spotted me and walked over with a bright, eager smile. "Abby, can I wear this dress for my birthday? I really love it."

I stepped out of her reach. "Take it off."

The living room fell silent.

Declan rose to his feet. "Abigail, what is wrong with you?"

"This dress is mine." I looked straight at Madeline. "Take it off."

Her eyes welled with tears. "But Decky said..."

I cut her off. "Do you need me to help you?"

Declan shoved me hard.

Caught off guard, I slammed into the coffee table, pain shooting up my stomach.

A folded medical report slipped out of my pocket.

Declan glanced at it, then let out a short, derisive laugh. "Two months ago, you faked anemia. Last month, you faked depression. What is it this time, cancer?"

I gritted my teeth. "Yeah. You guessed right."

Declan's expression darkened even more. "Abigail, the things you make up just to get attention... Is this what the Howard family taught you?"

Madeline sniffled softly, "Decky, don't be mad. Abby's only upset because I wore her dress. I'll take it off right now."

She turned to run upstairs, but Declan grabbed her arm.

He said, "She has no right to blame you. She took your place for twenty years. Everything she had was supposed to be yours."

He yanked me closer by the collar, practically spitting every word. "Abigail, apologize to Maddie. Say you were wrong."

His grip tightened around my neck until I could barely breathe.

I mouthed the words at him. "Over my dead body."

Declan's chest rose and fell with anger. He shoved me backward.

My head cracked against the edge of the table, and warm blood trickled down my temple.

He ordered the housekeeper to drag out my suitcase.

He spat, "If you can't stand Maddie, then you don't deserve to stay in the Howard family. Get out."

I lifted my head.

Madeline was standing on the staircase, a smug little smile flickering at the corner of her eyes.

I glanced at the suitcase lying on the floor.

Whatever lingering attachment I'd had to this house snapped clean.

Fine.

With what time I had left, I didn't want to be the Howard family's daughter or Declan's sister anymore.

*****

I withdrew from school and rented a tiny room in the old district. Every time a train passed, the whole room shook.

When I opened the window, the train tracks were right below me. Every time a train passed, the whole room shook.

It wasn't much, but at least it reminded me I was still alive.

For the rest of my time, I took a job as a bartender.

No one here knew who I used to be.

They only knew the new bartender had steady hands, a cold face, and a worse temper.

I didn't expect to run into Declan here.

Madeline walked in on his arm, dressed head to toe in the latest Chanel, chattering happily about something.

The lights were dim and flickering. My face was half-hidden behind my curls.

"Whiskey. Thanks," Declan said casually, then looked at Madeline with that soft gaze he'd never spared for me. "My sister can't drink. Get her a juice."

I kept wiping the glass. "Whiskey is two hundred dollars. Juice is one hundred. You pay first."

Madeline let out a tiny gasp. "Decky, that's so expensive. This place feels like a scam."

Declan recognized my voice. A cold smile tugged at his lips. "Well, some people have to make a living somehow."

Madeline finally looked properly at me.

I shot her a flat, warning stare.

Before she could say anything, a group of guys walked in—Declan's rich, spoiled friends.

They all used to treat me like I was carved out of gold because Declan worshipped me.

Now, every one of them wore the same mocking grin.

"Well, look who it is. Isn't this the fake Ms. Howard?" Ryan Davis spread his arms theatrically. "What happened, princess? After twenty years of playing pretend, you ended up pouring drinks in a dump like this?"

Someone else chimed in, laughing, "Didn't they kick you out? Serves you right. Poor Maddie suffered for years because of you."

Madeline sniffed at the perfect moment. "Please don't say that about Abby. It wasn't her fault."

That one line made the men fuss over her even more.

I set down the glass. The bottom hit the counter with a clean, sharp sound.

"Ryan," I said, lifting a brow, "I heard you lost another ten million at the casino last week. Your dad nearly broke your legs. Still have money to drink?"

His face darkened instantly. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"And Ethan Brooks," I turned to the next one, "does your fiancée know about the three college girls you're keeping? Want me to give her a call?"

The group immediately panicked, hissing curses at me under their breath like cornered dogs.

Declan shot to his feet. "Abigail! What the hell is wrong with you?"

I let out a short laugh. "So what? You all get to talk trash, but I'm not allowed to tell the truth?"

His face twisted with fury. He stepped forward and gripped my neck again, leaning in close. "Abigail, are you trying to die?"