My Copycat Sister

I had just finished changing into my wedding dress when the curtain next to me was pulled open.

Poppy Palmer was standing there, wearing the same wedding dress, veil, and pearl earrings as me. She’d even copied the exact way I purposely pinned my hair clip crooked.

Just a moment ago, the store associate, Sammy, had asked if I wanted to swap for a lighter veil. I’d said no right in front of Poppy.

"Elliot prefers something more grand," I’d told her. "I don’t mind the extra weight."

Poppy had heard every word.

So when she stepped out, her veil was weighed down so low that she could barely hold her neck straight. Yet she still forced a smile and said, "I’m sure Elliot will love seeing me like this, too."

Sammy walked over holding a pincushion. "Ms. Willow, we still need to alter the waistline."

Mid-sentence, the girl froze. She looked back and forth between Poppy and me, the smile on her face stiffening for half a second.

Poppy immediately let out a light laugh. "Willow, even she can’t tell us apart. I guess I look pretty convincing as the future Mrs. Fitzgerald, huh?"

I looked at the seams straining around her waist. "You do."

Poppy’s eyes lit up.

Then I added, "It just looks a little tight."

Her face instantly turned rigid.

Mom was sitting on the sofa, originally chatting with the Fitzgeralds' wedding planner. Hearing my comment, her brows immediately shot up into a frown.

"Willow, what kind of tone is that? Your sister is just trying it on for fun. She’s not trying to steal your spotlight. Don’t be so petty."

Poppy lowered her head, her fingers clutching the lace of the dress. Her voice sounded hurt, like I’d been bullying her for the past decade.

"Mom, it’s fine. You know how Willow is. She never liked me touching her things."

She had that act down to a science. Growing up, whenever she snatched my toys, wore my dresses, or took my pens, that was her exact go-to response the moment I caught her.

Mom’s response was just as routine, too. Every single time, she’d tell me to just give in to my younger sister.

I didn't bother replying.

In the mirror, I caught the subtle upward curve of Poppy’s lips. She thought I was holding back and taking the hit like usual. What she didn't realize was that I simply couldn't be bothered to stop her anymore.

If she wanted to mess with my things, so be it. Just don't blame me when she breaks them.

"Ms. Poppy, this really isn't your size," Sammy gently reminded her. "How about I fetch another dress for you to try?"

Poppy immediately lifted her chin. "No need. If my sister can wear it, why can't I?"

She deliberately strutted over to stand right next to me in front of the full-length mirror, copying me as she raised her hands to adjust her veil.

I took a step to the side.

Feeling even more triumphant, Poppy lifted her skirt to spin around.

Suddenly, there was a sharp rip.

The stitching along the waist ripped wide open.

The entire boutique went dead silent, leaving only the quiet hum of the air conditioner.

Poppy looked down, her face turning pale instantly. A second later, tears welled up in her eyes.

"Willow, did you do that on purpose? You knew I couldn't fit into it, so why did you let me try it on?"

I stayed completely still. "Sammy warned you. You didn't listen."

Sammy quickly chimed in, "Ms. Poppy, I did mention earlier that this wasn't your size."

Poppy wept even harder, acting as if I had personally cut the seams myself with a pair of scissors.

Mom threw her handbag onto the sofa with a loud thud. "It’s just a dress! Do you really have to embarrass your sister like this?"

I almost laughed out of sheer annoyance. She was the one who embarrassed herself by squeezing into a dress that didn't fit, yet somehow it was being pinned on me.

Right then, Poppy’s gaze landed on the diamond necklace sitting inside the display case nearby. It was the bridal jewelry sent over by the Fitzgeralds—twelve pear-cut diamonds set in a circle, gleaming coldly under the boutique lights.

Sniffling, she reached straight out to grab it. "Willow, let me try it on for you."

"Go ahead," I said.

She froze for a brief moment, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily. But she recovered quickly, fastening the necklace around her throat and intentionally stroking her collarbone.

"Does it look good?"

Before I could answer, the iPad in Sammy's hand chimed.

The video call went through, and the face of Elliot's mom, Diana, appeared on the screen. She was checking in to see how the dress alterations were coming along. However, the moment her eyes fell on Poppy's neck, her expression turned cold.

"That is the Fitzgeralds' bridal jewelry. Outsiders shouldn't be touching it."

Poppy’s hands froze right on the necklace clasp.

The word "outsider" hit the room louder than the tearing of the dress.

Sammy added fuel to the fire in a low voice, "Ms. Poppy, please don't touch it for now. We wouldn't want anything else getting damaged."

Tears poured down Poppy’s face, out of grievance and pure humiliation.

Mom was just about to speak up on her behalf when a man’s voice called out from the doorway.

"What’s going on here?"

Elliot had arrived.

He was wearing a dark gray suit, his expression calm. Stepping inside, he looked at me first before shifting his gaze to Poppy, whose eyes were red from crying.

Poppy immediately took off the necklace, her voice trembling. "Elliot, I’m so sorry... I didn't mean to ruin the wedding dress..."

Elliot looked at her and smiled gently. "It’s okay. Wedding arrangements can be overwhelming, and your sister gets busy. You could actually help her out with a few things."

Poppy’s eyes lit up instantly.

Looking through the mirror, I watched her lift her head, looking as if she had finally been chosen by a wealthy, high-society family.

I couldn't help but smile, too.