Chapter 5: The Final Lie

"But I never competed with you for anything." The words slipped out, giving away that I was awake.

I needed to know why she’d do it—why she’d take Luke, the one thing I thought was mine.

Even if she lied, telling me Luke wasn’t a good person. All those warnings I ignored.

Sophia turned, eyes red. "You’re lying. When you were little, you always made Dad and Mom worry. You lied so much, even Ethan can’t stand you!"

I reached for her, hooking her pinky like we did as kids. "Everyone calls me a liar, but we’re twins—you said you could feel my pain. I’ve been hurting all year, haven’t slept in forever. Didn’t you feel it at all?"

She jerked away, tears streaming. "If I could choose, I’d never be your sister! You’re just crying wolf again! Why can you lie and I can’t?"

She left, slamming the door. Mom and Dad hurried after her—of course they did. She was always the one who needed comfort.

Only Ethan stayed, silent in the doorway, torn between us.

"Sophia’s been hurting for years, especially as you got better. She feels like you tricked her," he said, voice flat and tired.

He tried to sound calm, but I heard the disappointment. "Ruby told Mom and Dad Sophia would douse herself with cold water. She even cut herself—there are old scars."

"We’re just trying to protect her. Please, don’t make trouble. She’s off-balance. She needs comfort. The nine years are almost up. She won’t keep going after you."

He didn’t say it, but I knew—he thought I was lying too.

He hated me, just like Sophia said. I could see it in how he angled toward the door, ready to leave.

No wonder he never used the gifts I got him—the Michigan State hoodie, the fancy coffee maker. Probably tossed or donated.

I covered my eyes, taking a shaky breath. "Don’t worry, Ethan. I’ll behave. I won’t say anything again."

Words no one believes are just noise. Why bother?

When he left, the silence was crushing. Just me and the old alarm clock ticking away.

I was in so much pain I could hardly breathe. I stood to open the window, but my gaze landed on the blue bottle. It seemed to pulse, calling me.

I reached for it. My fingers shook as I wrapped them around the cold glass.

The moment I pulled the stopper, I broke down, sobbing so hard my whole body shook.

Intense regret. Exhaustion I couldn’t bear.

The word "liar" echoed in my head. Over and over. Every accusation, every eye roll, every time they dismissed me.

Even if Sophia stopped making trouble. Even if I got better.

I’d always be the liar. That label wouldn’t come off.

There was no place for me at home. Not at the table, not in photos, not in anyone’s heart.

I was the suitcase in the attic—no one wanted to deal with me, but couldn’t throw me away.

Finally, I gripped the bottle and drank. The liquid tasted like melted ice cream and regret—sweet at first, then bitter as it slid down my throat.

"I didn’t lie," I whispered. The last truth I’d ever tell.