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“Mother?”
Sara froze, her breath snagging in her chest as she stared at the figure in the doorway. For nine long years she had lived without this woman without a voice, without a shadow, without a trace. Never, not even in her boldest dreams, had she truly believed she would stand face-to-face with her again.
Beside her, her father mirrored the same stunned disbelief, his expression carved in shock.
The woman stepped inside with graceful confidence, tall and striking, dressed as though she had stepped straight out of a film set. Every movement was careful, deliberate like someone who had rehearsed this moment countless times.
With tears that seemed almost too perfectly timed, she rushed forward.
“Sara… my child,” she whispered, gathering Sara into her arms. “I missed you so much. That’s why I came back.”
Sara’s throat tightened. For years she had silently prayed for this reunion for her mother, for the twin sister she lost along with her. Countless nights she had imagined this embrace, imagined warmth, apology, love.
And now… here she was.
Standing in the flesh.
Back from the emptiness of memory.
And Sara could only stand there, trembling, unable to speak.
“How have you been… and Cara?” Sara asked softly, her voice trembling despite her efforts to sound steady.
“I’ve been good, my dear,” Margaret replied smoothly, offering a smile. “Cara is perfectly “
“I know,” her mother sighed softly, breaking the silence , her voice dipping with practiced regret. “I know you and John must be wondering why I never called… never texted… never came back. But life trapped me in ways I can’t fully explain. I kept waiting for the right time, the moment I would be stable enough to return for you. And here I am now.”
She lifted her chin slightly, as though presenting a better, shinier version of herself. “I’m not the same woman who left the mountains with your sister after the divorce. I’ve rebuilt myself. I’ve fought hard. And I’m ready to be a mother again.”
Sara nodded slowly. What choice did she have? For years she had ached for this her mother’s arms, her mother’s voice, her mother’s presence. Now that she finally stood here, how could Sara turn away?
“So,” the woman continued gently, “if you don’t mind… I’d like to take you with me. I want to enroll you in better schools, give you a better life. And you’ll finally live with your twin sister again.”
At the mention of her twin, Sara’s heart leapt. Memories flooded back of two girls inseparable, laughing, dreaming together. She had missed her sister with every piece of her soul. Without hesitation, she nodded eagerly… then paused, her gaze drifting to her father. For nine long years, it had been just the two of them holding each other together after her mother and Cara walked away.
“Can you give us a minute?” John said quietly, eyes never leaving his ex-wife.
Sara swallowed and slowly went upstairs, her heart pounding as the air below thickened with unspoken truths.
When Sara left the room, John stepped closer to Margaret, his jaw tight.
“What do you want from her, Margaret?” he demanded, his eyes sharp and unwavering.
Margaret scoffed lightly, folding her arms. “What do I want? John, she is my daughter. I’ve come to take her with me. And she’s over eighteen now she can decide where she wants to live.”
John shook his head. “No. Something’s not right. You can’t just vanish for nine years and suddenly show up acting like the perfect mother.”
Margaret smirked. “Believe it or not, people change. I wasn’t financially stable then, but now I am. I don’t want my daughter wasting her life in this village… tending sheep with you.” Her tone dripped with quiet disdain. “Like I said, the decision is hers.”
As much as it burned, John knew she wasn’t entirely wrong. Sara deserved the right to choose. With a heavy sigh, he went upstairs only to stop dead in the doorway. Sara was already packing.
“So you want to leave… that badly?” he asked quietly.
Sara turned to him, tears threatening but determination shining through. “Daddy, I’m not leaving forever. I’ll come back, I promise. But… I want to live with my sister again. We were inseparable when we were kids. And you know how much I’ve missed her. She’s been on TV modeling all these years. Imagine seeing her in person again.” Her voice softened. “I think she misses me, too.”
“Dear, I know you want to be with them more than anything,” John said gently, his voice heavy with worry, “but don’t you think this is too fast? Why is she suddenly here now?”
“Daddy, come on,” Sara replied softly, her tone almost pleading. “You heard her she said she wasn’t financially stable before.”
John studied his daughter’s hopeful face and felt his words fade away. He didn’t want her to go. Every instinct screamed that something wasn’t right. Margaret’s smiles felt forced, her emotions rehearsed fake in a way only he seemed to notice.
But Sara was blinded by longing, by years of aching for a mother’s love. And as much as it broke him, John knew stopping her now would mean being selfish. So he swallowed the fear in his chest… and let her go.
How could he refuse a heart that had been yearning for so long? John exhaled slowly. “Alright. Go. Just… don’t disappear on me, okay?”
She threw her arms around him, holding tight. Moments later they went downstairs.
“Good. Let’s go,” Margaret said briskly.
Sara placed her bag in the sleek, expensive car and slid into the front seat. She waved at her father, his figure growing smaller, sadness clouding his eyes. Guilt twisted in her chest but so did excitement. She was going to be with her sister again.
The drive was silent. Years of distance left them with nothing to say.
When they finally arrived, Sara’s breath hitched. The house was enormous like something pulled straight from a movie. Margaret took her bag, and they walked in. Anxiety bubbled in Sara’s stomach. How was she supposed to face her twin after all these years? What would she say?
The moment the front door opened, Sara’s gaze locked ahead
…and her world stopped.
There was Cara.
Her mirror image.
Her other half.
Except she wasn’t standing.
She was sitting in a wheelchair, her leg wrapped in thick bandages.
Sara woke up with a knot of anxiety twisting in her stomach. Today wasn’t just any school day she was going to an elite school, the kind she had only seen on the news, the kind she had once dared to dream of attending. She had wished for this moment so many times… yet never imagined it would come like this.Not as Sara Johnson.But as Cara.Her gaze drifted to the neatly arranged clothes Cara had prepared for her. Elegant. Classy. Far from anything Sara had ever owned. She let out a small sigh and forced a shaky smile.“Am I going to study… or attend a fashion gala?” she whispered to herself.Still, this was her reality now at least for the time being. Gathering courage she didn’t feel, Sara slipped into the outfit. To her surprise, it fit perfectly, as though it had always belonged to her.Taking one last deep breath, she squared her shoulders and headed downstairs, each step pulling her deeper into the life that was never meant to be hers.Her mother was already waiting downstairs,
Over the next few days, her mother summoned stylists, hairdressers, and makeup artists. Each detail was meticulously planned: her hair, her nails, even the way she carried herself. Clothes were carefully chosen from Cara’s wardrobe, each outfit copied to perfection. Every morning, Sara practiced Cara’s accent, her gestures, her expressions, even the little quirks she had memorized from years of watching her sister in magazines and on television.Margaret filled her in on everything every person in Cara’s life, every routine, every mannerism. Sara memorized it all.Finally, after endless hours of practice and preparation, Sara stood in front of a full-length mirror. She hardly recognized herself. The reflection staring back was not the simple girl from the mountains this was a polished, glamorous, confident young woman. Her lips curved into a small, triumphant smile.For the first time, she felt what it was like to look exactly like her sister. To step into Cara’s world, to embody the
The moment she spotted Cara, rolling her wheelchair beside her mother coming from one of the downstairs rooms.Her heart clenched.And just like last night, she didn’t know what to say or how to feel when she saw the both of them .“Oh, my child, you cooked?” Margaret’s face lit up as they reached the dining table. “It smells wonderful.”“Good morning, Mum,” Sara said with a soft smile.“Good morning, darling. Were you comfortable?”Sara nodded, even though the truth was far from it.She turned her gaze to the wheelchair approaching the table. “Good morning, Cara,” she whispered, her voice barely steady.“Morning,” Cara replied flatly, not even bothering to mask her lack of interest.The indifference stung, but Sara forced a hopeful smile. “Anyway, I made breakfast. Your favorite. Remember when we were kids you loved pancakes, so I”“Hey.” Cara’s voice cut through her like a blade. “Are we still kids? And I don’t eat that. I’m not trying to get fat. Besides, I’m not in the mood.”Wit
Sara’s eyes lingered on her twin. Cara sat in the living room scrolling through her phone, hair perfectly styled, nails glossy, lashes long and flawless; everything about her screamed glamour… except for the wheelchair beneath her. Except for the bandaged leg that refused to let her stand.“My dear,” Margaret announced proudly, “I’m back… and I brought your sister.”Only then did Cara finally lift her gaze from the screen.Their eyes met.No smile.No tears.No rush forward.No laughter or dramatic embrace like Sara had always imagined in her dreams.Just emptiness. Cara’s expression was unreadable, her face cold and distant, as if she was staring at a stranger instead of the girl who once shared her heartbeat.After a painfully long, awkward silence, Cara finally spoke.“You’re welcome.”That was it.Sara’s throat went dry. She clutched the strap of her bag tighter, forcing a small, shaky smile.“T–Thank you,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart aching at the un
“Mother?”Sara froze, her breath snagging in her chest as she stared at the figure in the doorway. For nine long years she had lived without this woman without a voice, without a shadow, without a trace. Never, not even in her boldest dreams, had she truly believed she would stand face-to-face with her again.Beside her, her father mirrored the same stunned disbelief, his expression carved in shock.The woman stepped inside with graceful confidence, tall and striking, dressed as though she had stepped straight out of a film set. Every movement was careful, deliberate like someone who had rehearsed this moment countless times.With tears that seemed almost too perfectly timed, she rushed forward.“Sara… my child,” she whispered, gathering Sara into her arms. “I missed you so much. That’s why I came back.”Sara’s throat tightened. For years she had silently prayed for this reunion for her mother, for the twin sister she lost along with her. Countless nights she had imagined this embrace







