Chapter 2

Emma's POV

Clara suddenly came over and looped her arm through mine as if we were the closest sisters in the world. "Oh, come on, don't blame Emma. You know she'll get upset."

Then she turned to me with a pout, her eyes wide and innocent. "But seriously, Emma, you've lost so much weight! Why didn't you tell me? You never tell me anything anymore."

I looked at her. It was strange. We were twins, but no one would ever have guessed it from looking at us.

My face was long and narrow, with slightly upturned eyes. Losing weight had sharpened my features, giving me the kind of face people sometimes mistook for cold or unapproachable.

Clara was the complete opposite. She had a soft, round face and dimples whenever she smiled. Everyone who met her seemed to have the same reaction.

Adorable.

It had been the same at school.

Our classrooms had been right next to each other. From the beginning, I'd been mocked and excluded because of my weight.

Clara, meanwhile, was always surrounded by friends. She was one of the most popular girls in our grade.

Once, during a combined class, someone had asked her, "Hey, that fat girl in the class next door has the same last name as you, and you're both from Westbridge. Are you two related?"

Clara's voice had immediately shot up. "No way! Do I look anything like her?"

I couldn't remember exactly what I'd felt when I heard that. I only remembered spending the entire lunch break walking lap after lap around the track.

The next morning, I started exercising. Over the next three years, I lost 88 pounds.

Clara had been right next door the entire time. And now, she was standing here telling me I'd kept it from her.

The door finally opened with a click. As the entryway lights came on, I looked down and realized my legs were covered in angry red mosquito bites. I gently pulled my arm out of Clara's grasp and walked straight inside.

My room was at the far end of the apartment, a converted storage room barely big enough to fit a twin bed. But when I opened the door, a white puppy came charging at me, barking its head off.

My bed was gone.

Dad and Nathan brushed past me, carrying Clara's suitcases toward the master bedroom at the other end of the hall.

Mom came in with an arm around Clara's shoulders, muttering just loudly enough for me to hear. "Ignore her. Look at that attitude. You would think the whole world had done her wrong."

I stood outside what used to be my room, still clutching my woven moving bag. For a moment, I felt less like someone who lived here and more like an unexpected guest who had shown up at the wrong house.

"Mom, where am I supposed to sleep?"

Mom rolled her eyes. "You've barely come home in three years. What did you expect, for us to keep a room empty forever?"

She gestured toward the floor. "If you have nowhere else to go, just put down a sleeping bag in there."

I looked inside.

The puppy pads were stained in several places. There was a pile of dog mess no one had bothered cleaning up yet, and the cramped little room reeked.

"You want me to sleep in the dog's room?"

Nathan had just come back down the hall after dropping off Clara's luggage. His expression immediately darkened. "What's with the attitude? You come home and immediately make everyone miserable. Now you're jealous of a dog?"

Clara laughed and scooped up the puppy, holding it out toward me. "Come on, Emma, look at him! Isn't he adorable? His name's Snowy."

She cuddled it against her chest before adding brightly, "I even brought him some steak. We can feed him together later…"

Still talking, she bent down to pick up the dog's food bowl. It was a white ceramic bowl with a tiny bluebird painted at the bottom.

My breath caught. I lunged forward and snatched it out of her hands. "That's mine. Give it back!"

The sudden movement sent Snowy into a panic. He snapped at Clara's arm.

"Ow!"

She screamed and flung Snowy away. Its teeth had only grazed her, leaving a shallow scrape across her forearm.

Before I could react, someone shoved me aside. My hip slammed into the corner of the coffee table with a hard thud, and a deep ache shot through my side.

Dad's face was livid. "It's a stupid bowl! Why were you fighting over it with the dog? What if Clara ends up with a scar? Are you going to take responsibility for that?"

Nathan was already rushing off to grab the first-aid kit.

Mom's eyes reddened as she fussed over Clara. Then she whirled around and snapped at me. "You actually have the nerve to fight her over a bowl? You've always been like this. Everything has to be yours.

"You stay away for three years, then the minute you come home, you turn the whole house upside down. If I'd known you'd grow up like this, I never would've brought you home in the first place!"

She stopped. Maybe she realized she'd gone too far. But she didn't take it back.

For a few seconds, I said nothing. Then I slowly got to my feet and picked up the bowl. "It's the only thing Granny left me."