Chapter 3

My chest went tight, and I lunged to stop her.

"Wait, that one's got seafood in it."

She looked up at me, blank.

"I know."

Then she pouted, took my arm and gave it a little shake, all coax and sweetness.

"Sis, didn't you say you wanted me to have a good life? Can't you even spare me one seafood pastry?"

Slowly, I drew my hand back out of the air.

In the end I said nothing about the allergy.

I watched her finish the whole pastry, then reach for a second.

So I got up, set out the allergy medicine, and poured a glass of warm water too.

A full half hour passed. Nothing.

No rash on her skin, her breathing steady, and she even drank a cup of hot milk.

My heart sank, inch by inch.

The bullet-screen went wild.

"Now do you believe it? The real Leila is allergic to seafood! This is not her!"

"She's a fraud! A murderer!"

"If you don't make up your mind, next time it's you who dies!"

My head buzzed, and the scenes from childhood pushed up whether I wanted them or not.

A narrow alley. Leila on the ground.

Burning hot all over, struggling to breathe.

Gripping my hand, sobbing over and over, Sis, it hurts.

I'd carried her all the way to a clinic and dropped to my knees, begging the doctor to save my little sister.

That memory is carved into my bones. It doesn't lie.

I was still lost in it when she set down her chopsticks and stood.

"Sis, I'm full. I'm going to lie down for a nap."

I nodded.

The second she was in her room, I pulled out my phone and called the testing lab.

"Hi, I wanted to check. That rush test I put in earlier, are the results back yet?"

The voice on the line had just said "still running the comparison" when footsteps came from behind me.

"Sis, who are you on the phone with?"

My whole body locked up, and I killed the call.

She was standing in the doorway, clinging to the frame, too sleepy to keep her eyes open.

"I wanted some water and just heard you on the phone. Is something up at work? If it's urgent, go take care of it, I'll be fine on my own."

I steadied my breathing and slid the phone back into my pocket.

"Yeah, there's a problem with a project. I need to deal with it."

She gave a small "oh," didn't ask anything else, and turned back into her room.

Cold sweat soaked through the back of my shirt in an instant.

"She heard! She heard all of it!"

"She wasn't asleep at all! She was at the door listening!"

"Run! She knows you're looking into her! She's going to move tonight!"

"Get out now! Do not stay in that house! Go straight to the police!"

I sat in the chair, heart hammering.

On one side, the little sister I'd searched for over fifteen years.

On the other, this eerie bullet-screen floating in front of my eyes, every line of it coming true.

Who was I supposed to believe?

My phone buzzed.

A message from my assistant.

"Ms. Fox, the lab says the results will be ready this afternoon. I've already pushed them. The second it's out, I'll send it to you."

I stood, picked up my car keys.

Whatever the truth was, getting out of here first couldn't be wrong.

I called toward her room.

"Leila, something urgent came up at work. I'm heading out. Take care of yourself."

Her voice floated back.

"Okay, Sis, drive safe!"

I left like I was fleeing.

A light rain was falling outside, the road slick with it.

I drove out of the complex, and ahead was a long downhill stretch.

At the intersection I saw the red light and pressed the brake.

The pedal was soft as cotton, no bite to it at all.

The car ran with the slope, faster and faster.

Something dropped in my chest, and cold sweat broke out all over me.

I pumped the brake, yanked the handbrake, tried every trick I had.

None of it did anything.

The number on the speedometer kept climbing, and all I could hear was the wind screaming past.