The Sister Who Tried To End Me

Our wedding night. The acrid smell of smoke choked me as roaring flames consumed the beautiful new home I'd bought for Chloe. A heavy vase smashed against my skull. Through the blinding pain, I heard her voice, sharp and cold: "You and Mom and Dad ruined my love. I've given everything to Ryan. You destroyed my life. Now you can die with me." The searing heat enveloped me, then, nothing.

I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my own bed, not the master suite, entirely free of smoke or the ominous red decorations. My heart hammered against my ribs; disbelief warred with the dizzying joy of being alive. But then my eyes landed on the digital clock: 11:03 PM. June 12th. This was *the* night. The night Chloe was drugged, the horrifying prelude to my murder.

A chilling whisper snaked down my spine as Chloe's strained voice drifted from next door: "Ethan... I don't feel good..." The phantom pain of shattered ceramic returned, a stark reminder of her betrayal. My first instinct screamed for me to flee, to escape her, to get out while I still could. But a cold, sharp thought pierced through my fear: Chloe was reborn too, and she was still entangled with Ryan. This time, I wouldn't just run. I would expose their schemes, break free from her toxic grip, and ensure my family's actual tragedy never happened.

The acrid smell of smoke filled my lungs, a phantom sensation from a life burned away.

Flames licked at the expensive curtains of our new home, the one I bought for Chloe.

Our wedding night.

A heavy vase crashed against my skull.

Through the haze of pain and smoke, Chloe's voice, sharp and cold.

"You and Mom and Dad ruined my love. I've given everything to Ryan. You destroyed my life. Now you can die with me."

The heat. The searing pain. Then, nothing.

I gasped, sitting bolt upright.

My own bedroom. Not the master suite of the new villa. No red decorations. No smoke.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

I was alive.

Disbelief warred with a dizzying wave of joy.

"Ethan... I don't feel good..."

Chloe's voice. Low, strained, from her room next door.

A chill snaked down my spine.

I glanced at the digital clock on my nightstand: 11:03 PM. June 12th.

My blood ran cold.

This was the night. The night she was drugged.

The phantom pain of shattered ceramic on my head, the suffocating heat of the fire, it all rushed back.

My first instinct: run. Get out of this house. Get away from Chloe.

I fumbled with my sneakers, hands shaking, not bothering with the laces.

Before I could reach my door, it creaked open.

Chloe stood there, leaning against the frame. Her face was flushed, her eyes unnaturally bright.

Even through the haze of whatever drug clouded her system, the wariness and disgust in her eyes when she looked at me were unmistakable.

"Ethan," her voice was raspy. "I already called Ryan. You need to go pick him up. Now."

A thought, cold and sharp, pierced through my confusion.

Chloe was reborn too.

I nodded, feigning casualness. I grabbed my car keys from the dresser.

I brushed past her, keeping my eyes fixed ahead, and walked quickly down the hall.

As I stepped out of the front door, I could feel her gaze, venomous and intense, on my back.

The address Chloe had given Ryan, the one she now recited to me, was for the condo I'd bought her near the university.

So, she and Ryan had been living together. Her claims that I destroyed her love for him... they had a twisted truth to them.

Ryan yanked open the passenger door of my Tesla almost before I'd fully stopped. He slid into the seat.

"How is she? Chloe, is she okay?" Ryan's voice was tight with supposed concern.

But I saw it, or maybe I imagined it – a flicker of triumph, of desire fulfilled, in his eyes.

"You'll see when we get there," I said, my voice flat.

I didn't want to talk to him. Not because of jealousy.

Because my parents and I despised him.

Ryan was a scholarship kid our family had sponsored.

Mom and Dad liked him at first. He was hardworking, top of his class, the valedictorian from his city. They'd personally driven him to USC when he started.

Mom was pleased. He was a year ahead of me, a senior when I was a junior in high school, and his academic record meant he could tutor me.

He was diligent, reporting every detail of my progress, or lack thereof, to Mom after each session.

Even when I told him I managed my own studies, he persisted.

I always sensed a shrewd, calculating look in his eyes. Back then, I dismissed it as ambition.

Then came the disastrous weekend at our Palm Springs estate.

He'd paraded around in his swim trunks in front of Mom a few too many times. It wasn't casual; it was a deliberate display of his young, toned physique.

I'd wanted to punch him. Mom stopped me.

She'd said I was overthinking it, but her eyes, when she looked at Ryan after that, no longer held that maternal warmth.

He was never invited to tutor at our house again. He was relegated back to being just a recipient of our financial aid.

After his master's, he wanted to study abroad. He came to our house, fruit basket in hand, eyes red, begging Mom and Dad for a loan.

Dad wasn't stingy. He had his secretary wire Ryan fifty thousand dollars.

Ryan came to say goodbye before his supposed departure. He ran into Chloe, home from her freshman year at Stanford.

The next day, Ryan returned the fifty thousand to Dad.

He said he'd had a change of heart. People should be practical. He would work first, earn his own money for further studies.

Chloe, about to head out with friends, had looked at Ryan – dressed simply, face set with determination – with open admiration.

A month later, Ryan, through a standard HR process, was hired at our family's software company.

When I noticed him deliberately getting close to Chloe, I warned her.

"Ryan's not sincere, Chloe. He's after your family connections."

"Ethan, not everyone is like you, only caring about money."

I kept an eye on her, but in less than a year, she had him living in her condo.

I drove fast, too fast. Ryan clutched the grab handle, his knuckles white.

"Bro, even if you're pissed, think about safety, man."

He got out when we reached the house. I didn't go in. I sat in the car, smoking.

I knew what was about to happen between Chloe and Ryan. Better than anyone.

I wasn't jealous.

My horrific death in the previous life, dragging Mom and Dad down with me, had shown me the truth. My love for Chloe was poison to her.

Ryan's words in the car, just before he got out, confirmed it.

"Ethan, Chloe's your sister. Your twisted feelings for her? She went abroad to get away from you. She finds you disgusting. Now she has me. Give it up."

So, Chloe knew all along how I felt. Her going to Stanford wasn't just for education. It was to escape me.

If I'd known that earlier... in my past life, when she was drugged and tearing at my clothes, I would have pushed her away.

Before stepping out, Ryan had added one more thing.

"Stop being a creep, spying on your sister. Get a girlfriend if you have so much energy."

He was probably worried I'd keep pursuing Chloe.

Never again. I had no feelings left for Chloe.

Her obsessive love for Ryan was too consuming, too terrifying.

I stayed in the car all night. When dawn broke, I finally went upstairs.

Chloe came down from her room, wearing a silk robe.

Her neck was dotted with fresh, dark hickeys. Her voice was husky, languid.

"Where were you last night, Ethan?"

"I was with Mike," I said. Mike was my best friend. Chloe knew him.

That she even thought to ask about me... maybe she'd let go too. Maybe we could go back to being normal siblings. A hopeful thought.

"I know you look down on Ryan because he's not rich," she said, her voice hardening. "But I'm going to marry him. Stop going after him."

"When did I ever look down on his background?" I countered. "It's his character I can't stand."

"Don't act so superior. He put himself on the line to clean up your mess."

I was confused. "My mess? What are you talking about?"

Chloe's patience snapped.

"Are you going to deny you drugged me last night? I was saving myself for Ryan for our wedding night. You ruined everything!"

"How could I do something like that? What do you take me for?" I roared back.

I had loved Chloe for years, yes. But I would never resort to such despicable tactics. I'd watched her grow up. I could never hurt her.