Copying a Blank, Framed Anyway

My adoptive parents, Albert Johanson and Anita Lane, stood in the doorway, frost clinging to their faces.

Two bodyguards loomed behind them, broad enough to block the hallway lights. Their shadows swallowed the entrance.

The moment Alyssa saw them, her tears broke loose. She wrenched herself free from the crowd and threw herself into Anita's arms.

"Dad, Mom. You're finally here…" She buried her face in Anita's chest and sobbed. "Please don't blame Bree. It's my fault. I caused her to be punished…"

Anita looked stricken. She held Alyssa tight and stroked her back, whispering soft reassurances.

Then she raised her head and looked at me. Disgust filled her eyes. "Bridget, you're beyond saving. When Aly first came back, how many times did I tell you? Give in to your younger sister. Be sensible. Our family fed and clothed you for 18 years. We treated you like our own daughter."

Her voice sharpened. "And this is what we raised? An ungrateful snake with a rotten heart? Aly said you bullied her at home. We didn't believe it at first. We thought you weren't that bad. We even defended you in front of her. But you? You would even cheat on a district exam. You tried to force Aly to take the blame?"

Her gaze was cutting. "Did you think that if you ruined Aly, you could keep your place as the Johanson family's eldest daughter? You're dreaming. A fake will always be a fake. You're not worth even one of Aly's toes."

I had heard those words in my previous life, again and again. I told myself they would not hurt this time. I was wrong.

Thin, sharp pain crept in like needles beneath my skin.

There was a time when Anita stayed up all night at my bedside while I burned with fever. A time when someone called me a bastard child and she marched to their door, dignity cast aside, and demanded an apology.

She once said that both daughters were born from her own blood. She swore she would not neglect me just because Alyssa had come home. Now she took every lie Alyssa spun and drove it into me without hesitation.

"So it's true. Even her parents are saying it."

"See? You never know someone's real face. A fake heiress is still fake. Bad blood runs deep."

Whispers swirled around me, but I ignored them.

I looked at Anita with the last scrap of hope I had left.

"Mom," I said, my voice steady. "Do you really believe I would copy someone else's exam? That I would bully Alyssa at home? Eighteen years together. Does that count for less than a few months of her tears?"

"The facts are right in front of us," Albert snapped.

He strode forward and flung a stack of papers at my feet. The pages skidded across the tile.

"The dean already sent me the evidence. Two identical test papers. Even the typos are the same. What more proof do you want? Alyssa is first in the grade. You're barely scraping by. Do you expect us to believe she copied you?"

His face reddened. "For a recommendation slot, you stooped this low to steal what belongs to Aly. "Do you know how much she suffered growing up in the countryside? She finally earns first place on her own, and you still try to snatch it away? Have you no conscience at all? You've shamed the Johanson family."

In Anita's arms, Alyssa kept crying.

Still, she did not miss the chance to twist the knife. "Dad, please don't be so angry. Bree might have just been confused for a moment. Usually… she treats me fine."

She paused at just the right moment. "Sometimes, she calls me a country bumpkin. Says I don't deserve to enter the Johanson family. Says everything here belongs to her…"

"What?" Anita's voice rose. "She dared to say that to you?"

"I didn't." The words tore out before I could stop them. "I have never said that. And I never needed to fight over any recommendation slot."

I met Albert's eyes, then Anita's. "Did you forget? I received an early admission recommendation letter from Cranston University last month."

I held their gaze. "Why would I need to cheat?"