3. First move.

TEN YEARS AGO, Valeria Flores was a cruel mother to Jillian. The way she cast her out, it was as if they didn’t share the same blood. Jillian swore she’d never forget that moment of her life—and she vowed to rise again and get her revenge.

But now, gone was the fierce and formidable woman she once knew. In her place was a frail, anxious, prematurely aged woman, slumped and staring blankly at the wall.

"Sister..." Victoria softly prompted Valeria, who remained motionless. Before they entered the room, her aunt had warned her that her mother might throw a fit again—just like she always did when someone tried to speak to her.

"Sister, Julia's here now."

At the sound of that name, Valeria suddenly turned her head.

"Julia?"

"Go closer," her aunt whispered.

"Julia!" Tears welled in her mother’s eyes.

Jillian stood frozen, rage tightening her chest. She wanted to throw the food tray she was holding and charge at her mother—scream at her, hit her.

Why? Even in her mother's broken state, why was it still Julia she called for?

"Go on," Victoria hissed impatiently.

"Julia, my child!" Valeria opened her arms wide. "My daughter!"

"Give me that and go to your mother," her aunt said, taking the tray from her hands and giving her a gentle shove forward.

Jillian forced a smile and approached Valeria. She didn’t hug her. Instead, she gently took her hands.

“Mama…” she murmured, almost closing her eyes. Never in all those years did she imagine calling her that again.

“Julia!” Valeria pulled her into an embrace anyway. “You’re back!”

“Yes.” Jillian pulled away quickly, unwilling to feel anything toward this woman except hate. “I brought food. Please eat first,” she said as she arranged the tray on her mother’s bed. “Ma, this is your favorite,” she said, about to feed her when she noticed Valeria just staring at her face, grinning from ear to ear.

“Ma?”

“If Jillian were here… I know she’d take care of me too,” Valeria said.

That stopped Jillian cold. She dropped the spoon and abruptly stood up.

No. She must have misheard. There was no way her mother was thinking about her. This fragile woman in front of her couldn’t be the same heartless mother she once knew.

"Julia!" Victoria reminded her firmly. "Your mom’s hungry."

Jillian clenched her fists behind her. Valeria looked at her like a child—innocent, naive. Maybe she hadn’t meant to mention her name. And even if she had, she was wrong. If Jillian were here as herself, she would never take care of her. She’d be cheering for the karma that finally caught up to her.

"Ma, eat now," she said, regaining her composure and feeding her mother a spoonful.

"Sister, eat a lot. From now on, Julia will feed you every day. That’ll help you recover faster," Victoria added, glancing at Jillian.

“Really, Julia?” her mother asked, full of hope.

“Yes, Mama,” Jillian said reluctantly.

“But when Sake arrives, Julia won’t have as much time for you. So you need to get better before your future son-in-law comes. You don’t want him to see you like this, right? He might get scared.”

Valeria smiled and nodded.

To Jillian, those fifteen minutes in that room felt like a lifetime. The moment she stepped out, she could barely breathe.

“Good work,” Victoria said. “I haven’t seen your mother that calm in weeks.”

“If she recovers fast, she’ll find out what you’re doing,” Jillian warned, brushing invisible traces of her mother’s touch off her arms.

“She’d agree if she knew,” Victoria shrugged. “Come on, let’s go to Julia’s room.”

“Wait. I’m not using Julia’s room!” she snapped.

“Look, if you’re going to pretend to be your sister, you have to sleep in her room.”

“This is too much, Auntie! Give me my own room or I’m not staying here!”

“Alright,” Victoria conceded. “But just for tonight. I’ll have another room cleaned for you.”

She gave in. One night wouldn't kill her. Besides, she was exhausted from the day’s drama.

---

Just by looking at the portraits lining Julia’s room, anyone could tell who lived there. Jillian wasn’t impressed. The room was practically a shrine to Julia—photos everywhere, some solo, some with a man Jillian instantly knew had to be Sake.

No comments on the fiancé’s looks—typical handsome type. Exactly what she expected. Julia would never go for an ugly guy.

But she did have opinions about the room. It was overly girly for her taste. Everything was pink—from the walls to the tiniest accessories. Jillian had never liked pink. To her, it was the color of weak-willed girls. And she wasn’t weak. She was a strong woman who didn’t need anyone in her life.

She shrugged and flopped onto the bed, half-covered in giant stuffed animals. Even as kids, only Julia liked toys.

Her gaze settled on a framed portrait of her twin. Who would’ve thought that while she stared at an exact replica of herself, the person in the photo wasn’t her?

She was sure Julia would freak out if she knew Jillian was in her room. That alone might wake her up. And this was just the room. What more when Sake returned and found that the woman waiting for him was the criminal sister he despised?

A wicked smile curled on Jillian’s lips. Just like that, she’d made the first move in her revenge against her twin.

---

The next day, after feeding and bathing her mother, she went back to the hospital. Oddly, she wasn’t enjoying seeing Julia so helpless. Revenge didn’t feel right if the victim wasn’t aware of it. Jillian wanted her awake—wanted her to feel every bit of pain she was about to inflict. That, she believed, would be far more satisfying.

“Julia,” she said to her unconscious sister. “If you plan on sleeping longer, you might not have anything to come back to. Your wedding’s coming up. Don’t let it fall apart. Poor Mama and Auntie—they might end up broke again.”

She smirked and turned to leave.

She and Victoria had agreed to meet at a nearby café to make further plans. They couldn’t do it at home—Valeria might overhear something and slow down her recovery.

Jillian was already in the hospital lobby when she saw her aunt rushing in like she was chasing someone.

Curious, she looked ahead.

A tall, handsome man strode urgently in front of Victoria. His face was twisted in worry, mixed with anger. He looked... familiar.

“Julia!” Victoria called, snapping Jillian’s attention back to her. “Julia! Sake, it’s Julia! I told you, she’s okay!”

Sake? Julia’s fiancé?

Before she could fully process what was happening, the man Victoria called Sake turned and saw her.

“Julia!” he cried. The worry on his face melted into relief.

Without another word, he crossed the room in a few quick strides, pulled her close, and—before Jillian could react—he kissed her.

On the lips.

Like he needed to do it just to make sure she was really okay.