Chapter 4: The Sister Who Took Everything
The church doors remained open behind us.
A cold breeze moved through the room, carrying the smell of rain.
Nobody cared about the wedding anymore.
The flowers.
The decorations.
The expensive dress.
Everything Emily had spent months creating had disappeared in seconds.
Because secrets were stronger than appearances.
I stared at my sister.
“What else?””
Emily looked around.
Her eyes moved from guest to guest.
She looked embarrassed.
Not ashamed.
Embarrassed.
That difference hurt.
“Can we talk somewhere private?””
I almost smiled.
“Private?””
My voice was quiet.
“You wanted me hidden five minutes ago.””
Her face fell.
“Emma…”
“No.””
I looked at Margaret.
“Let her speak.””
Emily swallowed.
“When we were growing up…”
She paused.
“I hated how people looked at you.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“You became everyone’s hero.””
Her voice became bitter.
“Teachers praised you. Neighbors brought you gifts. Everyone said you were brave.””
I stared at her.
“I almost died.””
“I know.””
“And you were alive because of me.””
“I know!””
She shouted.
Then she covered her mouth.
The outburst echoed.
“I know,” she whispered.
Her shoulders dropped.
“But every time someone called me lucky, I felt like they were saying I didn’t deserve to live.””
I looked at her.
For the first time, I saw the pain underneath her anger.
But pain did not excuse cruelty.
“So you punished me?””
She cried.
“I didn’t mean to.””
“Then what did you mean?””
She had no answer.
Margaret stepped forward.
“She spread rumors.””
Emily looked at her sharply.
“Mom, stop.””
Margaret continued.
“She told people Emma wanted attention.””
My stomach dropped.
“What?””
Emily looked away.
“She was jealous.””
My mother began crying.
I turned to her.
“You knew?””
She nodded slowly.
I felt numb.
“How long?””
“Years.””
The answer was barely audible.
Years.
My family knew.
Everyone knew.
Except me.
I thought back to every time someone looked at me strangely.
Every time a friend stopped inviting me places.
Every time someone said:
“She’s always talking about the fire.””
I wasn’t talking about it.
They were.
Because Emily had rewritten the story.
I looked at my sister.
“Why?””
She wiped her tears.
“Because I wanted one thing that was mine.””
I laughed softly.
“You had everything.””
“No.””
Her voice cracked.
“I had your shadow.””
I looked at the scars on my arms.
Then at her perfect skin.
“You had my life.””
Silence.
Then Margaret reached into her purse.
She pulled out a small envelope.
My heart tightened.
“What is that?””
She looked at me.
“Something I should have given you months ago.””
Emily’s expression changed.
“No.””
Margaret turned.
“Yes.””
Emily stepped forward.
“Don’t.””
Margaret ignored her.
She handed me the envelope.
“What is it?””
“Your medical records.””
I stared.
“I already know my injuries.””
“No.””
Margaret shook her head.
“These are not about your injuries.””
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a document.
My eyes scanned the page.
Then stopped.
The words blurred.
Because there, in black and white, was something I never expected to see.
A name.
A signature.
And a confession.
My hands began shaking.
“Emily…”
My sister looked terrified.
Because she knew what I had found.
I looked up slowly.
May you like
“Why did you sign this?””
Her face turned completely pale.
