Chapter 2

Andrew took me with brutal force. No matter how much it hurt, I had to keep silent.

If I made a sound, I'd ruin the illusion of being Sophie.

After all, I could never imitate that mesmerizing voice of hers.

I shut my eyes tight, making sure Andrew couldn't see the tears slipping from their corners.

In the week since my sister died, I hadn't shed a tear in front of anyone. I only dared to fall apart when I was alone in the dark.

I couldn't let Andrew find out that my sister was gone. I was afraid that he would find another way to keep me tethered to him.

The only way forward was to keep him happy, to wheedle a little more money out of him.

Andrew had once threatened me into cheating on an exam just to make Sophie happy.

I lost my degree over it, and the college took back my spot to study abroad.

My future screeched to a complete stop. I had no way left to support myself.

While I was lost in these thoughts, Andrew finally exhausted himself and drifted off to sleep.

I looked toward the window. A sliver of sunlight had slipped through a gap in the curtains. It was already morning.

I slipped out of bed and went to make breakfast.

Andrew had a weak stomach. I cooked the oatmeal for him every day.

Every morning, when breakfast was done, I would turn and find Andrew already standing behind me, pulled in by the smell.

Today, it was the same. I turned and gave him a sweet smile. "Good morning."

Andrew looked genuinely startled. He thought I must have lost my mind, and studied me with a long, searching gaze.

I held my smile and set two warm cups of oatmeal on the table.

Andrew reached for his cup, but I gently stopped him. "Careful, it's hot." I blew softly on the steaming surface. "Your stomach can't take anything too hot."

"Emma, what game are you playing?" Andrew seized my arm and demanded.

"Andrew, actually, I—"

"Shut up!" Andrew cut me off and tossed a black card at me.

"Emma, drop the act. It's painfully fake. All I see in your eyes is greed. There's nothing real in there." He put his hand over my eyes. A soft, scornful breath escaped him. "Liar."

I watched his back as he walked away, then glanced at the black card in my hand and let out a short, bitter laugh.

Fake? Greedy? There had been a time when my heart was in it.

When I first took the role of Sophie's substitute, I gave it my all. I showed up looking my best every time, and I was always preparing little surprises behind his back.

It all ended that day when he humiliated me in public. He called me a whore, and made me drink with his business partners until my stomach bled, and he didn't care at all.

And there was that summer. The one that felt so cold, the chill biting straight through to the bone.

He hauled me to the hospital and made me end the pregnancy at six months. "Emma, know your place. Someone of your low breeding doesn't deserve to carry my child. Don't get any ideas. I could never fall for a slut like you."

His word destroyed whatever foolish hope I had left.

Actually, when I first found out I was pregnant, I had gone to the hospital for an abortion. It was Andrew who showed up and stopped it.

He held my hand and said, "Emma, have a child with me. A child of our own. You're so beautiful. Our baby would be adorable."

Those words convinced me to go home and take care of the pregnancy. I couldn't understand how the same man could say two such completely different things.

"Emma, a few careless words and you got so moved that you decided to carry my baby? You must be desperate for love. Here's the truth. I sabotaged the condom. This was a game for Sophie and me.

"She wanted to see how quickly a woman's body heals after a late-term abortion. So I lied to you and kept the act going. I didn't think you'd actually believe it.

"Starting today, drop these ridiculous ideas, or you and your sister can both get the hell out."

At that moment, I finally came to my senses. How could I have believed a careless promise so easily? I was so stupid.

From that day on, I no longer stayed up for him or heated his milk. I became silent and did only what was required of me. I never let my gaze settle on him again.

He would rage at me for no reason, calling me a lifeless puppet. I just kept saying sorry. Then he glanced at me like words were forming in his mouth, but finally, he'd knock something over and storm out.

Whenever he gave me expensive jewelry or luxury makeup, I sold them and used the money for my sister's treatment.

Over time, he said I had no heart, and he never bought me anything again.

I clutched the black card Andrew had given me and cashed out what I was owed. I took it to the funeral home and settled my debt. With the rest of the money, I booked the earliest flight out of the city.

I held the delicate urn in my arms, thinking of my sister's final words.

She always said Stenton was too big, too crowded. She never felt like she belonged there. She wanted to go back to where we came from.

"I'll take you home, I promise," I whispered the words, not noticing Andrew had appeared at my back.

"Emma!" The familiar voice made my heart jump. I turned around and scrambled to hide the urn behind my back.

"What are you holding? Why are you hiding it?" he pressed.