I get slowly to my feet. It’s so dark I can’t even see my shoes. I turn around, head spinning, facing the back wall where the cradle is. I squint. I can’t make out anything at all, only shapes in the darkness. But I know someone’s there. I know it. I hear them breathing.
My voice comes out in a dry whisper, “Who’s there?”
Silence. Desperately, I glance behind me to the attic stairs buried somewhere in the darkness. If I ran for it…would I make it?
“Who’s there?” I whisper again, louder this time.
I wait there, my entire body trembling.
Creeeeeeak.
I let out a cry of horror. Someone’s at the back of the room, near the cradle. My heart is about to burst with terror. But I have to know. I have to know who it is. I have to know who’s been tormenting me.
I creep forward, biting my lip so I won’t scream. My hands are out in front of my face, shielding me. My head throbs as I step closer, closer until I make out a tall shape in the dark. I freeze.
Someone is standing over the cradle. A filthy nightgown falls past their toes, and their long hair is matted.
I hold my breath, watching. I lick my lips. “Amanda?”
The girl raises her head, stands perfectly still. I stop breathing. Slowly, she turns around.
The girl’s eyes seem to glow in the dark. I blink, wondering if I’m seeing things. I blink again. Her eyes are as green as olives.
The girl is Sarah.
My heart lurches. My sister. My baby sister is standing in my attic.
“Sarah?” My voice cracks. “Is it really you?”
I don’t wait for her to answer. I lurch forward with a cry. My fingers close around her wrist. She’s cold, but she’s real. This isn’t a dream. Right there above her left eyebrow is the small scar I gave her when we were playing Ninja Turtles when she was five and I was seven. I throw my arms around her neck and sob noisily into her shoulder. For a long, horrible moment, I think she’s not going to hug me back. But finally, she lifts her arms and wraps them around my shoulders.
“Sarah!” I sob, “How are you alive? I—”
Uneasily, I drop my arms. The last time I saw Sarah…
She tightens her grip on me. Her breath is stinking hot against my ear, but her arms are freezing cold around my shoulders. “Sarah…” I try to pull away. And then in one quick movement, she slides both hands up to my throat.
I lash out wildly as she squeezes tight, choking me of air. I tear at her hands, fighting hard to pull them off. But she squeezes tighter and tighter, her face contorted in fury.
“How could you!” she hisses. “How could you!”
“Sarah…” I choke out as spots appear in my vision. “Sarah…”
The world goes black and I stop thrashing. My knees buckle.
And that’s when she finally releases me.
I collapse on the ground, gasping for air. My sister crouches beside me, eerily calm. For a long time, neither of us speaks. I lie still, breathing noisily and gazing into her face. People used to say we looked alike. But we don’t anymore. Her hair is ash blonde, like mine used to be before I dyed it caramel brown. We’re both short-sighted, but I wear contacts now, and Sarah’s still wearing her tortoiseshell glasses. But we both stillhave the same terrible teeth, all crooked at the bottom, the front two overlapping. It’s the strangest feeling to be all alone for years and finally see bits and pieces of yourself in someone else.
How could you…
“I’m sorry about Joe,” I finally whisper. My throat feels like a giant bruise. It hurts to speak. But I need to say this. I’ve wanted to say it for years. “I’m sorry I stole him from you.”
She raises an eyebrow, waiting.
I gently rub my neck.How could you. How could you.Those three words have haunted me. But the truth is, they were never about me stealing Joe. It was about theotherthing I did to my sister.
Slowly, I sit up. I look into her eyes and say, “I’m sorry I killed you.”
