Chapter 1

The email glowed on my laptop screen.

"Congratulations! Yale University... Full Scholarship..."

My breath hitched. I'd done it.

A wave of dizziness, pure joy, washed over me.

Then the door slammed open.

Mike stood there, my older brother, his football captain shoulders filling the frame. His face was a mask of fury.

"What's that on your screen?"

Before I could answer, he strode over, his eyes scanning the words.

His jaw tightened.

"Yale? Full ride?" He spat the words out. "How the hell did you manage that?"

I flinched. "I... I worked hard, Mike. My grades, my SATs..."

"Bullshit!" He slammed his fist on my desk, making the laptop jump. "Sophia's been dreaming of Yale since she was ten! Her scores are always better than yours! How could it be you?"

Sophia, my adopted sister, appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide and innocent. Tears welled up instantly.

"Oh, Emily," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You got in?"

Mike rushed to her side, his arm protectively around her. "It's not fair, Soph. She must have cheated. Pulled some strings."

"No, I didn't!" My voice rose, desperate. "I earned this!"

"All you do is take from her!" Mike's voice was a low snarl. "First, you steal Mom and Dad's attention, and now her future? Her luck?"

Sophia sobbed quietly into his chest. "It's okay, Mike. Maybe... maybe I'm just not meant for good things."

"Don't say that, Sophia," Mike said, his voice softening for her, then hardening again as he looked at me. "She's the one who's not meant for it. This is your spot, Sophia. Your destiny."

He looked at me, a strange, chilling light in his eyes. "I heard about something. A way to... rebalance things. To give back what was stolen."

My blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?"

"Sophia told me," he said, his gaze fixed on me. "Sometimes, when luck is stolen, a sacrifice has to be made. To purify things. To return what's owed."

Sophia looked up, her eyes wide. "Oh, Mike, no, that sounds... scary."

But there was a flicker, a tiny, almost invisible spark of something else in her eyes. Triumph?

"It's what needs to be done," Mike said, his voice resolute. "For you, Sophia."

He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. "You're going to give Sophia back her luck."

"Mike, you're hurting me! What are you planning?"

"You'll see."

"I have hemophilia, Mike! You know that! A small cut, and I bleed too much!" I tried to pull away, panic rising.

He laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Hemophilia? Don't be ridiculous. That's Sophia's illness. You're even trying to steal her sickness now? Pathetic."

Sophia had claimed to have a mild bleeding disorder for years, a convenient excuse for avoiding PE, for getting extra attention. My actual, diagnosed hemophilia was always dismissed as me being "dramatic" or "copying Sophia."

"This isn't a game, Mike! It's real!"

"Oh, it's real, alright," he said, dragging me towards the door. "You're going to make things right for Sophia. One way or another."

Sophia watched us go, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. Her expression was one of perfect, sorrowful concern.

It was a lie. All of it.