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“We were already destroyed! You just were too busy being perfect Sam with her perfect life to notice your sister was dying inside. And don’t say I had everything. I had your scraps! Your cast-offs! Even Mom and Dad saw me as Sam’s Lesser Twin. The one who wasn’t quite as smart, quite as driven, quite as good.”

“That’s not…”

“Even now! Look at Mom’s face when she talks to you versus me. You’re the daughter who made her proud. I’m the one who made her ashamed.”

We both looked at Diane, who closed her eyes. “I failed you both differently.”

“This isn’t about Mom,” I said. “This is about you making a choice. You could have talked to me. You were my sister! The person I trusted most!”

“When? When did you trust me? You managed me, Sam. Like another project. Keep Sophie out of trouble. Clean up Sophie’s messes. Never let Sophie fail because it might reflect badly on the family.”

“Because you never faced consequences! Mom and Dad enabled every mistake…”

“Because I wasn’t you! I couldn’t be you. So I stopped trying.”

The room went quiet. Twenty-nine years of unspoken truth hung between us. Oh my fucking god. This didn’t make it right, not at all. It just made me realize maybe I never knew my twin.

“You’re not going to fix this,” Diane said finally. “It’s too broken. But you need to stop using it to destroy yourselves.”

Sophie wiped her face, rebuilding her composure. “I should go.”

“Wait.” I stood too. “Before you play victim to whoever’s listening, you should know. Garrett’s in jail. Assault and kidnapping charges. That’s what gave me this face.”

Sophie’s mask slipped again. “What?”

“He tracked me down, hit me and kidnapped me. My boyfriend had to physically remove him from my presence.” I touched my bruised temple. “Still think he’s worth it?”

“I… I didn’t know.”

“No. You never do.” I headed for the door.

“Sam…”

But I was done. I walked out of my mother’s dying room, past childhood photos of two girls who didn’t exist anymore, and found Tyson in the kitchen. He had the baby against his shoulder, swaying gently.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Beyond ready.”

Sophie appeared in the doorway. “Sam, wait.”

I didn’t wait. We gathered our things while Sophie stood frozen in the kitchen, holding her baby who carried the face of our mutual destruction. Diane called out as we passed the living room.

“Sam. Will you come back?”

I paused, considered. “Maybe. When she’s not here.”

“I understand.”

And maybe she finally did.

26

— • —

Sam

The call came at 3:47 AM. My mom’s nurse.