Chapter 1I Was Born To Replace Her

The day my mother conceived me, I became aware of the world outside.

My parents were happy, or at least they seemed to be. I also had an older sister, Hannah. She was my father’s daughter from his first marriage.

The day they found out about my existence, Hannah tore her bedroom apart.

"You already have me!" she screamed, her voice muffled but sharp through the walls of the womb. "Why do you need another one? You have to choose right now—it's either her or me!"

My mother didn't answer her. She only whispered to herself that a baby was a gift, a twist of fate meant to be.

But to Hannah, it was a betrayal. She began to act out, constantly searching for ways to claw back their attention. It escalated until the day she emptied an entire bottle of concentrated weed killer into my mother’s prenatal herbal teas.

When my father discovered what she had done, his fury was unlike anything the house had ever known. For the first time in her life, he hit her.

Hannah didn't cry. She only stared at my mother’s swollen belly with a cold, burning hatred.

The day I was brought home from the hospital, she walked over to my bassinet. She reached in and poked my cheek, her finger hard and cold.

"You’re their real daughter," she whispered, her voice dangerously quiet. "With you here, they’ll never love me again."

"There’s only room for one of us, but I don't want to lose my mom and dad."

"So... could you just leave?"

* * *

Before I could even register her words, Hannah’s hands found my neck.

She squeezed. Slowly, deliberately.

The air left me. The world began to dim into a terrible, bruised purple. I wanted to cry, but Hannah was the one who wept first. Her warm tears fell, splashing against my cold cheeks.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." she sobbed.

Suddenly, the suffocating pressure vanished.

There was a sickening crack, and I watched Hannah fly backward, crashing heavily against the hardwood floor.

"Are you out of your mind, Hannah?!" my father roared, his eyes bloodshot as he stood over her. "She’s your sister! How could you do that to a baby?"

He kicked her, hard, twice in the ribs, before gently scooping me into his arms.

"She’s not my sister!" Hannah choked out, curling into a ball on the floor and clutching her stomach. "She’s yours and Laura's! But I... I am..."

She couldn't finish the sentence.

It was true. I belonged to both of them. But Hannah belonged to my father and a woman who had abandoned them years ago. It was a truth she couldn't bear to voice.

"You are completely insane!" my father yelled. "First you try to poison your mother, and now you try to strangle your sister? How did I raise such a monster?"

On the nearby sofa, my mother, still weak from labor, struggled to her feet. She rushed over, panic written across her pale face.

"My sweet girl, are you okay?"

The moment my mother saw the angry red handprints bruising my tiny neck, her face contorted with grief. She marched over to Hannah and slapped her across the face. Hard.

The sound cracked through the room. Hannah’s head snapped to the side. She looked up, her eyes wide with utter shock.

"You... you dared to hit me?"

My mother’s hands were shaking violently.

"Since the day I married your father, I have treated you like my own flesh and blood. I gave you the best of everything. I let it go when you tried to hurt me, but today you tried to murder my baby!"

"How am I supposed to ignore this? How? I carried her for nine months, Hannah!"

My mother collapsed onto her knees, sobbing hysterically. But Hannah scrambled backward, her face flushed with rage.

"Liar! You hit me because I'm not yours! You never would have touched me before she was born!"

"It’s because of her! You hate me because of her! The moment a stepmother gets her own kid, the father turns into a stranger too!"

She screamed the words, her voice cracking with hysteria.

"Shut your mouth!" my father bellowed. "You’re going to terrify the baby!"

With tears still drying on my eyelashes, I stared blankly at Hannah.

Deep down, I knew she wasn't entirely wrong. Ever since my parents had found out about me, their eyes had rarely drifted to her. When Hannah had a fever a few weeks ago, they had simply told her to take some aspirin and drink water. The night she ran away, they hadn't even noticed she was gone until she crept back through the front door, crying.

A heavy, instinctive guilt settled in my tiny chest. I forced my crying to stop. I looked at Hannah, stretched out my small, fragile hands, and tried to offer her a smile.

"S... Sis..."

The syllable was clumsy and slurred, but in the quiet room, it was unmistakable.

My parents froze in surprise. Even Hannah went still, staring at me.

"Did you hear that, Hannah?" my father whispered, stepping closer to her and holding me out slightly. "Your sister is calling for you. Look at her. Even after what you did, she's smiling at you!"

"See? Don't be so petty. You're the older sister."

Seeing Hannah’s bewildered expression, I smiled wider. I wanted her to know that my birth didn't mean she would lose their love. It just meant there was one more person in the world to love her.

But in the next heartbeat, Hannah lunged forward. Her fingers wrapped around my throat again, squeezing with terrifying strength.

"Are you mocking me?! You think you've won because they love you more?!"