THE HEART THEY STOLE: Rebirth of the Scapegoat Bride

"You think you can just get away with everything you've done to your twin sister? You tried to get rid of her back then, and now you're showing your true colors!"

She jerked my head down, forcing me to my knees on the cold hardwood floor. The impact sent a jolt through my joints, but I didn't make a sound.

"Beg for forgiveness," Mom commanded, her voice trembling with rage. "Kneel and beg, and I'll let everything you've done slide. Show some remorse for the life you stole from her!"

I looked up. From my position on the floor, Elena looked like a queen on a throne of lies. She looked down at me, her eyes shimmering with a fake, watery light that my parents mistook for compassion.

"Oh, Mom, no! Please, let her go," Elena said, her voice a melodic, heartbreaking sob. She stepped forward, reaching out a hand as if to help me, but the look in her eyes was a jagged blade. "I understand if she's angry. It's been a very long time... with time, me and my twin sister will get along soon... right, Elara?"

She flashed an evil, microscopic smile-the kind only a victim is meant to see.

This didn't happen in my past life.

In my past life, I would have stayed there. I would have sobbed at her feet, apologized for my jealousy, and spent the next decade trying to earn back a seat at a table that was never meant for me. I was a dog then, desperate for a pat on the head.

But dogs eventually learn how to bite.

I reached up and grabbed my mother's wrists. My grip was like iron. With a sudden, forceful wrench, I tore her hands away from my hair. I heard the sickening snap of a few strands breaking, and a fresh wave of pain radiated across my skull. I ignored it. This pain was a drop in the ocean compared to the feeling of a surgical saw cutting through my ribs.

I stood up slowly, my height dwarfing my mother's cowering frame. I didn't brush the dust off my knees. I didn't cry. I simply looked my mother in the eye.

The air in the room felt heavy, as if the house itself were holding its breath. My mother's hand flew back, her palm flat, ready to deliver a blow that would mark my face for a week.

But before she could strike, Elena moved. She threw herself between us, hugging my mother tightly, her head buried in Mom's shoulder.

"No, Mom! Don't!" Elena begged, her shoulders shaking with fright. "Don't hurt her because of me. I couldn't bear it! I'd rather go back to the streets than see this family torn apart!"

My father stepped forward, his face a mask of disgust. "Look at her, Elara. Look at the sister you tried to destroy. She's a saint, and you're a cancer. If it weren't for the Grant contract, I'd throw you out into the gutter tonight."

"The Grant contract," I repeated, the words feeling like a cold stone in my mouth. "Is that all I am? A signature on a piece of paper to save your failing business?"

"You're lucky you're worth even that much," my father spat.

I turned my gaze to Elena. She was still crying into my mother's chest, but she shifted just enough to look at me. The mask was gone for a split second. She wanted to see me break. She wanted to see me crawl back into the shadows.

Instead, I took a step toward her. My mother flinched, pulling Elena back as if I were a rabid animal.

"You want my forgiveness, Elena?" I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm. "You want us to get along?"