Chapter 2

The whole thing started two months ago, during a high-school trip to Lake Arrowhead.

I remember the shock of the cold water, the panic as I was pulled under. I wasn' t a strong swimmer. My lungs burned. Then, a hand grabbed mine. It was Nicole. She was a new student, quiet and plain, from some small town in Oregon.

She "heroically" saved me.

The school praised her. My parents, the Blakelys, were eternally grateful. They invited her to our mansion, showering her with gifts and attention.

It was all a setup. I knew that now, from my ten years as a ghost. The drowning wasn't an accident. She had pulled me in.

Nicole played her part perfectly. She was the kind, rustic girl, overwhelmed by the glamour of our world. She "admired" my clothes, my friends, my life. In reality, she was systematically taking it all.

My best friend started ignoring my calls, suddenly finding Nicole more "authentic." My favorite dress went missing, only to appear on Nicole a week later, with her claiming it was a gift from Elizabeth.

The final move was my dog, Buster. A scruffy rescue I' d had for years.

Nicole had him put down while I was at school. She claimed he bit her. She showed everyone a scratch on her arm, the same one she was clutching now.

When I confronted her, she cried, saying she was just scared. That' s when I was supposed to have "assaulted" her. That' s what led to this moment, kneeling on the floor, being disowned.

Now, as I kneel here, the past and present merge.

Nicole walks over, her face a mask of gentle forgiveness. "Mom, don't be so hard on Stella. It's my fault. I should have been more careful with Buster. I' m sure she didn' t mean to hurt me."

She reaches a hand down to me. "Stella, we're sisters. I forgive you."

In my past life, I grabbed her hand, sobbing with gratitude and guilt. I fell right into their trap.

This time, I look up at her, my eyes welling with fake tears. I take her hand and let her pull me to my feet.

"Thank you, Nicole," I choke out. "You're so kind. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

I see a flicker of triumph in her eyes before it' s replaced by pity.

She thinks she' s won. She thinks I' m broken.

Good. Let her think that.

I know their real plan. A fringe spiritualist had told Elizabeth that Nicole was born with a "cursed" aura, destined for misfortune. The only cure was to swap her with a "Golden Aura" baby-me. Then, after we turned eighteen, they would perform a year-long ritual to transfer my luck to her. My death was the final step to seal the transfer.

They didn' t just want me out of the way. They wanted to consume me.

I will be the most subservient, remorseful, and loving sister she could ever imagine. I will give them everything they want.

And I will watch them choke on it.