Chapter 2

The moment my mother got home, she rushed straight into Kyle's room and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Kyle, sweetheart, Aunt's home. Don't be scared, don't be scared."

The sheer opulence of the room said everything about how much she doted on her nephew. Expensive fruit sat on the desk alongside imported building blocks that must have cost a fortune.

Kyle's eyes were already swollen and red as peaches from crying. He looked up at my mother, his eyes still wet.

"Aunt Diane, Sophie hasn't come home in days. Does she really hate me that much?"

My mother's brow furrowed, and she was quick to comfort him. "Of course not, sweetheart. It's my fault for spoiling her too much. That's how she turned into someone so willful and out of line. When she gets home, I'm going to give her a good talking-to."

Standing off to the side, I heard those words and felt something in my chest crack. No matter how hard I tried, in my mother's eyes, I would always be the disappointment. To her, only Kyle was worthy of being called her child.

She always said that since Kyle's mother had died giving birth to him, she owed him double the love to make up for it.

And me? Was I just supposed to be the sacrifice?

A flash of satisfaction crossed Kyle's face, so quick it was almost invisible. Underneath that harmless, gentle exterior of his, only I knew what kind of twisted, monstrous face was really hiding there.

In a dim warehouse, I'd watched in despair as Kyle suddenly appeared, and I'd screamed with everything I had left, begging him to save me. I still didn't understand why I'd been snatched off the street by a group of strangers in broad daylight, but I knew that this cousin who'd always had it out for me might be my only hope of getting out alive.

Instead, I was met with a slap across the face, delivered with all his strength. I stared at him, stunned.

Kyle looked down at me, ice in his eyes. "Sophie, I really do hate you, you know. Only once you're dead can Aunt Diane pour all her love and every resource she has into me. Your death is worth it. I'll never forget you for that."

Struggling did nothing. The men around me swarmed in and threw me onto the road. I watched, helpless, as they gunned the truck straight at me, and then the pain swallowed me whole.

With the last of my strength, I called my mother, begging her to save me. All I got back was one icy line.

"Would you quit bothering me? Kyle's at his baking class. Don't interrupt us."

The call ended. So did my life.

Now, watching the killer put on his innocent little act, I wanted nothing more than to tear the mask right off his face. But I was already dead. There was nothing I could do.

It had always been like this, in that house. I'd spent my whole life walking on eggshells.

Curled up in my mother's arms, Kyle looked up at her with an expression of pure, childlike innocence. "Aunt Diane, Sophie called earlier and said she was in some kind of danger. Do you want to check on her?"

My mother picked up a book that had fallen to the floor and pursed her lips. "Don't bother believing her. Who knows how many times she's told that lie already. Not once has it ever been true. I don't know who taught that girl to be such a liar. If only she were even half as good as you."

Kyle broke into a smile, but I caught the cruelty hiding just beneath it.

In the middle of all that warmth and comfort, a phone rang.

My mother, who'd promised to spend the whole day with Kyle, hung up on it without a second thought. But the phone kept ringing, over and over, like it was calling her to her doom.

The caller was her apprentice, the one she'd left in charge of restoring my body. For him to be calling this insistently, something must have gone badly wrong at work.

She had no choice. After a few words to soothe Kyle and coax him off to sleep, she finally grabbed her things and hurried out.