My Twin Wore My Crown

All my life, my family said Lucia needed more because I was stronger.

My pony. My celebrations. My mother's time. Whenever my twin wanted something, I was expected to give it up.

Our Mafia Family induction was supposed to be different. We were both Don Romano's daughters. We were both supposed to receive a crown.

Instead, Lucia's custom crown held both our diamonds while mine sat tarnished and empty. At the formal family dinner, Father even moved my place card to the far end of the table because I hadn't dressed well enough—after sending me across Manhattan to collect Lucia's gown.

They thought I would step aside again.

Instead, I withdrew from the ceremony, packed one suitcase, and boarded a one-way flight.

When the entire Romano Family gathered beneath our crest, they found two crowns—but only one daughter willing to wear hers.

————————————————————————————————

My twin sister's induction crown held two diamonds. One of them was supposed to be mine.

Lucia ran a finger over the gold frame. “Mom, look. Even the sides are shaped like my favorite white roses.”

Mother took her hand. “My baby deserves the most beautiful crown the Romano Family has ever seen. Everyone will be watching. We can't give them anything to whisper about.”

Our induction was a week away. Both of us were supposed to be presented to the Family as Don Romano's daughters, with crowns to mark our place in it. Mother had spent weeks having Lucia's made. Mine was an old, tarnished piece with its main setting left empty.

She knew people would notice. She had just said so.

Father kissed Lucia's forehead. “After your induction, you'll be a crowned Principessa of the Romano Family. Anyone who disrespects you will answer to me.”

Only a week earlier, he had told me that a Romano woman handled her problems quietly. Complaining embarrassed the family.

I stood in the doorway and watched Lucia turn her crown toward the light. Both our diamonds flashed above a band engraved with her initials.

L.R.

I wanted to ask Father whether I was his daughter too. I knew the answers I would get.

“Must you compete with your sister over everything?”

“Lucia has always been delicate.”

“You're the older one, Sofia. Act like it.”

I was older by seven minutes and had weighed six ounces more at birth. That had been enough to make giving things up my responsibility.

When we were nine, Grandfather gave me a pony. Lucia wanted her, so Mother asked me to share. Within a month, I had to ask Lucia's permission to ride my own horse.

When I was named valedictorian, Lucia cried because the family celebrated me at dinner. By morning, Mother had persuaded Father to send her to Paris for the summer so she could have “something special of her own.”

I had stepped aside each time. When our induction was announced, I thought there would finally be enough for both of us.

Then Lucia decided one diamond wasn't enough for her crown, and Mother had mine moved to hers.

Across the room, Lucia linked her arm through Mother's. “Why isn't my gown here? I need to try it on before dinner.”

Father's capos, the men who ran his crews, had begun arriving for the induction. Several had flown in from overseas early, and we were hosting a formal welcome dinner that evening. Lucia's gown had arrived from Milan that afternoon. It was waiting at the designer's Manhattan showroom.

Mother looked at me. “Sofia, go pick it up.”

I checked the clock. “If I leave now, I won't have time to get ready.”

“You never take long. You always wear something simple. Lucia's gown is much more complicated.”

I liked beautiful clothes too. I had simply learned not to ask when Lucia needed something.

Father was close enough to hear us. I looked at him, but he didn't intervene.

“All right,” I said. “I'll get it.”

By the time I returned, black SUVs lined the drive. I carried the gown upstairs, delivered it to Lucia's room, and hurried to my own. I had showered and barely started drying my hair when she called down the hall.

“Sofia! Help me with the zipper.”

Mother and two attendants were already gathered around her. Lucia stood before the mirror in ivory silk, the Romano diamonds at her throat.

“It's stuck,” she said. “Pull it up.”

I held the fabric together and tugged.

“Too tight!”

I stopped at once. Lucia pressed a hand to her chest, and Mother caught her arm.

“I can't breathe,” Lucia whispered.

“I stopped,” I said. “I barely moved it.”

Mother turned on me. “You know how delicate your sister is. Couldn't you be more careful?”

“I was trying to help.”

“And somehow you always make things worse.”

Lucia closed her eyes while Mother fanned her face and called for water. I stepped out of their way.

The dinner bell rang as I reached my bedroom. My gown was still in its garment bag. With no time left to put it on, I pulled on a plain black dress and went downstairs with damp hair.

The dining room was full. Lucia sat at Father's right hand in the ivory gown I had fetched. My place card stood on his left.

I was almost at my chair when Father looked up.

“You can't sit there looking like that.”

I stopped. “I didn't have time to change.”

His gaze moved over my dress. “The DeLucas are here. Don Romano's daughter can't sit beside him looking half-dressed.”

He beckoned to a servant. “Move Sofia's place to the end of the table.”

The servant lifted my card and carried it past the capos and their wives to a corner beside two distant cousins. Mother watched without saying anything. Lucia was smoothing her skirt.

I followed my name card to the empty chair.

Father raised his glass toward Lucia. “To the future of the Romano Family.”

Applause spread around the table. I kept my hands in my lap until it stopped.

After dinner, I heard my parents arranging the family portrait.

“Noon tomorrow,” Father said. “We'll use the council chamber. Lucia should wear her induction gown.”

I stopped beside them. “My college interview is at noon. I told you yesterday.”

I already had my acceptance. This call was for a selective first-year program, and I had been preparing for it all week.

“Then do your interview,” Father said.

“But the portrait is supposed to include the whole family.”

Our brother, Luca, looked up. “We can't rearrange Don Romano's schedule around a college call.”

“So you'll take it without me?”

Mother sighed. “Please don't start. It's for the induction announcement. You hate social events anyway.”

I had asked to be in the picture, and she was telling me I didn't want to be there.

Lucia touched my arm. “We can take another one with you later.”

She didn't suggest a day or look to Father for agreement.

“We will not delay the portrait,” he said. “Make your own choice, Sofia.”

Upstairs, I locked my door and opened my laptop.

MIT's acceptance portal was still on the screen. I had accepted the offer, but I had put off the housing arrangements for months. Father insisted I belonged in New York. Family came first, he said, whenever I tried to talk about leaving.

I chose the earliest move-in date and paid the housing deposit from my competition winnings. Then I booked a one-way flight to Boston.

Departure: 9:10 a.m., the morning of the induction.

They could take their portrait without me. By the time they noticed my empty chair at the ceremony, I would already be gone.