Chapter 2

Mom froze, then patted my shoulder. "What kind of nonsense is that? Of course you'll need it! Sure, Callum's loaded, but you don't turn your nose up at Marlowe money!"

I stared at my frantic parents, dazed. They had never worried over me like this. Not once in my life.

My birth had dragged on too long, Sloane had come out weak, and apparently I owed her for the rest of my life.

When we were kids, they would circle around her on our birthdays and sing to her. Only after she'd been put to sleep would they remember to wish me a happy birthday.

Other families dressed their twins in matching outfits. Sloane's clothes were always way more expensive than mine, and the kids at school made fun of me for it.

I always felt like a guest at someone else's house, watching the three of them be a happy, complete family.

Sometimes I wondered how great it would be if I'd been born second. Weak body, sure, but all the love in the world.

And even so, Sloane never thought it was enough. She fought me for everything.

When my boyfriend, back when he was still courting me, gave me an expensive bottle of perfume, she wanted mine, even though she already had her own.

After I got married, she got worse. She even tried to steal Callum's love.

I cried and threw fits, and all it got me was Mom and Dad's irritation and Callum's neglect.

Everything I did was wrong.

Once upon a time, I might have fought back. After all these years, I was just worn out.

Seeing me go quiet, Mom and Dad stopped paying attention to me and huddled around the dining table to fuss over Sloane. The three of them kept stacking delicacies on her plate until it was heaped high. I held my knife and fork and quietly cut my vegetables.

Sloane looked over at me, smug. No weakness in those eyes. Just provocation.

In the days that followed, Mom and Dad spoiled her even more than before. She lived like a princess.

At a charity gala, Callum led Sloane to the middle of the ballroom and dropped to his knees to hand-feed her little cakes.

The socialites glanced at them, then at me, mockery all over their faces. I felt every stare. I kept my head down and swirled my wine without a word.

Then I heard the crack of a slap.

"You bitch! You spilled wine on me! How dare you?"

I looked up. Sloane had a young woman by the hair and was kicking her in the ribs and stomach. When she was done, she snatched up a glass and hurled it at her. Blood streaked the woman's face as she screamed.

When I saw who it was, my pupils shrank. Piper Sutherland. The precious heiress of the Sutherland family, the richest family in the city.

Sloane hadn't gone out much in recent years, so she had no idea who the important people were.

I started forward to stop her, but it was already too late.

Bodyguards swarmed Sloane in seconds. When Augustus Sutherland, the head of the family, saw the blood on his granddaughter's face, he exploded. In front of every socialite in the room, he announced that he would pull every contract he had with the Marlowes, and that anyone who stood with them was done in this town.

Mom and Dad begged him, desperately, that night. Old Mr. Sutherland didn't budge. He had us thrown out.

Back at home, Sloane sat on the couch, wailing. Mom and Dad were angry, but their hearts still ached for her.

They went hat in hand to their old partners, willing to cut their own take in half just to keep the deals alive.

Finally, the Sutherlands gave a little. The condition was that Sloane apologize in person and accept her punishment.

Mom and Dad weren't relieved when they heard it. How could they stand to watch their darling get pushed around like that?

I glanced at them blankly and headed for my room, but Callum blocked the doorway.

"You should take the punishment for Sloane. You're twins. You look almost exactly alike, so they won't notice. It's only a small punishment. You won't say no, will you?"

A small punishment? My heart went sour. Everyone knew old Mr. Sutherland was ruthless. Anyone who crossed him, even the ones who walked away alive, walked away with a permanent disability.

Callum did business with the man. He knew that better than I did, and he knew exactly what I'd be walking into. He just didn't care. All he wanted was to protect Sloane.

Whether I lived or died didn't matter. I kept my head down and said nothing, while Mom and Dad lit up and started praising Callum for being so clever.

"Willa, your sister's too frail to take a punishment. You're strong, so you go. But try to protect yourself, okay? You'll need to be in good shape for the drug trials soon."

I looked at the four of them, exhausted, and forced a smile and a nod. "Okay. I get it."

As I turned away, I caught Sloane's smug expression out of the corner of my eye, and I couldn't help wondering. After I died, nobody would be left to take the fall for her. What would happen to her then?

Behind me, Callum, Mom, and Dad crowded around Sloane, laughing, like they'd just solved some huge problem.

I looked around my dark, suffocating room, and a tear slid down my cheek. I wiped it away fast and decided to throw everything out.

I was dying anyway. Keeping this stuff would only be an eyesore to them. Better to toss it all.

There wasn't much in there besides the basics and a few picture frames. A family photo of the four of us. My marriage license from Callum.

I stared at them for a long time, then dropped them in the trash without hesitating.

After I finished cleaning, I lay on the bed, gasping, when something sweet and metallic rushed up my throat. I coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood, and it sprayed across the white sheets.

Just then, Callum pushed open the door. I grabbed a pillow and slapped it over the stain.

"The Sutherlands' driver is here."