Chapter 4

My parents' demands on me had grown increasingly brutal. Any grade less than perfect resulted in physical abuse.

I used to think they were just tiger parents who wanted me to succeed. But now I realized they didn't want me to succeed at all. They just needed me to be perfect.

They needed me to secure a near-impossible, flawless score.

Because that score was never meant for me.

I recalled a memory from when we were in the third grade. My parents had come upstate to visit Grandma.

I had proudly held up my perfect spelling test, wanting to show them.

My mother was brushing Chloe's hair. Without even glancing at me, she simply muttered, "Put it on the table."

Later, that test paper vanished. I searched for it for days but couldn't find it.

During spring cleaning months later, I found it in Chloe's desk drawer.

The paper was crumpled and covered in doodles, with Chloe’s name scribbled sloppily over mine.

When I asked Chloe why she took my test, she laughed. "I just thought it was fun. Besides, nobody cares about your grades anyway."

I hadn't thought much of it back then. But looking back now, maybe my parents had been planning this from the very beginning.

They were testing us. Testing our physical similarity, testing whether the people around us could actually tell us apart.

And the result was clear: almost no one could.

If my parents registered Chloe for the exam but had me sit in the seat, using our identical faces to bypass the test center security, who would ever suspect a thing?

After all, we were identical twins.

I didn't dare think any further.

If this entire life had been a setup from the start, how horrifyingly calculating were they?

I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow, my tears silently soaking the fabric.

The next morning, I got up before the sun was even fully awake.

When I walked out of my room, my parents were already in the living room.

Seeing me, a bright smile spread across my mother’s face.

That smile was so utterly foreign that it sent a shiver down my spine.

"Oh, Chloe, you're up? Come have breakfast. Mom made your favorite avocado toast."

Chloe. That was my sister's name.

My name is Nora.

I froze. My mother also realized her slip of the tongue, but she quickly laughed it off without correcting herself.

Silently, I walked over to the dining table. It was piled high with a lavish breakfast spread.

Pancakes, fresh berries, freshly squeezed orange juice, and even a bowl of organic yogurt parfaits.

None of these had ever appeared on my breakfast table before.

What did my breakfast usually look like?

At best, a piece of stale toast or last night’s leftovers.

If I woke up even a minute late, I got absolutely nothing.

Chloe walked out of her room wearing a brand-new designer dress, her hair perfectly styled.

She glanced at the breakfast table and pouted. "Mom, why are you making such a big deal for her?"

My mother gave her a warning look. "Watch your mouth. Your sister is going to start her intensive prep course soon. She needs her nutrition."

Prep course.

My hand holding the fork stiffened slightly.

"I’ve already looked into the best elite SAT prep program for you. It costs thirty thousand dollars a year, but your mother and I are willing to make that sacrifice for you."

My father set his newspaper down, looking at me with a rare, gentle tone. "Nora, you didn't do well on the SATs this time, but we don't blame you. We’ll try again next year."

Didn't do well.

Was the person who didn't do well really me?

I kept my head down, remaining silent.

Chloe sat across from me, popping a blueberry into her mouth, a sweet smile on her face. "Nora, you usually study so hard. How did you end up with such a trash score? Were you just faking it the whole time?"

Her voice was dripping with honeyed poison.

"Chloe," my mother warned, but her tone held no real reprimand. It was pure indulgence, a mere performance.

Chloe stuck her tongue out and continued eating.

My father took a sip of his coffee, asking in a seemingly casual tone, "By the way, Nora... last night, you said you came out to get water?"

Here it came.

My chest tightened, but I kept my face entirely blank.

"Yeah. I woke up really thirsty." I raised my head, looking straight into my father's eyes. "Why?"

My father and mother exchanged a quick, tense look.

My mother quickly took over the conversation. "Oh, nothing, nothing. We were just worried you were under too much stress and couldn't sleep well. By the way... did you hear anything last night?"