Chapter 1

Back home, custom held that twins had to have a big celebration on their tenth birthday, or they wouldn't make it safely to adulthood.

But on that tenth birthday, I called my mother.

The phone rang and rang before she finally picked up, irritation heavy in her voice.

"Clara, it's Vera Winfield's tenth birthday today. You know how important this birthday is for her!"

"You just had to call and interrupt her celebration right now?"

"We told you we'd come see you when we had time. Do you have to keep snatching everything away from Vera?"

My brother cut in, just as annoyed.

"Clara, can you not be so jealous all the time?"

"Vera's about to cut the cake. Whatever it is, can't it wait?"

He gave me no chance to speak and hung up.

I called my father then, but the line was dead every time.

I wanted to tell them I wasn't asking for a birthday of my own. I wanted to tell them Grandma Winfield had died.

1.

By the time they rushed back, Grandma had already been buried.

And they came back carrying nothing but anger.

My father slapped me across the face.

"Clara Winfield, your grandmother died and you dared to keep it from me?"

Great-Uncle Abbott stepped forward and blocked him.

"Carl Winfield, what do you think you're doing?"

My mother looked at me, her face full of disappointment too.

"Great-Uncle, don't stop him. Clara has no heart in her."

"Mom raised her all these years, and she didn't even tell us when Mom passed."

"She's only ten and already deciding everything on her own. When she grows up she'll be capable of murder and arson!"

Great-Uncle's face went dark.

He slapped my father across the face.

"You worthless fool!"

The blow left my father stunned.

"Great-Uncle, why are you hitting me?"

"I'm hitting you, that's why. How many times did Clara call the two of you?"

"And what did you say to her?"

My mother's face faltered, her certainty starting to crack.

"She could easily have told us something had happened to Grandma. She chose to say it right in the middle of Vera's birthday celebration!"

"Great-Uncle, you know the custom back home. The tenth birthday has to be celebrated in a big way!"

"Otherwise the child dies young. Vera's been frail since she was little. We couldn't rest easy without a proper celebration!"

My brother shot me a resentful glare.

"Clara, however jealous you are of Vera, you don't joke about something as serious as Grandma!"

Vera's eyes went red at the rims.

"Clara, even if you were upset that Mom and Dad were throwing me a birthday, you can't just hide the news that Grandma died!"

The murmurs around me were nearly enough to drown me.

"So young, and already hiding her grandmother's death out of jealousy."

"What'll she be like when she's grown?"

From the day I was born, the thing I heard most was this.

"You're healthy because you stole Vera's nutrition in the womb."

"Remember that. You owe Vera for it."

Now there was one more.

"Deep and scheming, jealous of her own sister."

I wasn't even a year old when my parents sent me back to the old hometown to live with Grandma.

When I was three, my parents brought my brother and Vera back home for the first time.

I stood there staring at my well-dressed parents, my tall, sturdy brother, and pink, delicate little Vera.

When my mother held out her hand to me, I flinched back on instinct.

Her face went cold at once.

"Why are you so timid and small-minded?"

"Come here, Vera, say hello to Mommy."

Vera skipped over and threw herself into our mother's arms, chirping sweetly.

"Mommy, I love you."

My mother slid a glance at me. "Clara, it really isn't that I don't like you."

"Look how adorable your sister is, and then look at you..."

I looked down at myself, at the old clothes Vera had cast off, the shoes a size too big, the small chapped hands.

I dropped my head, not knowing what to do with myself.

We were twins, and yet I was half a head shorter than she was.

But even then I envied Vera, who got to be loved by our parents and cherished by our brother.

I longed to be back at my father's side. I longed for them to take me home.

Every time I saw them after that, I got pulled out and measured against Vera all over again.

"Her skin isn't as fair as Vera's!"

"She isn't as tall as Vera either!"

"She doesn't do as well in school as Vera!"

But Vera took a fancy to the little beanbag Grandma had made for me.

Vera took a fancy to the tiger doll Grandma had made for me.

...

Over and over, they taught me the same thing.

"Clara, give it to your sister."

"Clara, you're the older one, you should let your sister have it!"

After that, I never again longed for them to take me back to the city.

But Grandma was gone, and there was no one left to care for me, so they had no choice but to bring me back to the city.

My tenth birthday came to an end, folded into my parents' sense of duty and into Grandma's funeral.