The Forgotten Sister’s Last Night

In the Valenti Family, you're born with a chip. It's fused into the bio-watch on your wrist, its digital face counting down every second you have left to live.

Everyone could see the numbers ticking down on my twin sister's watch. And on mine.

They all knew she would die on our 18th birthday.

So Vivian became the untouchable princess of our brutal world.

Every diamond-stitched gown was hers. The rarest jewels were hers.

Even our father's last shred of humanity was hers. That single sliver of warmth he showed only after his gun was holstered.

I used to pity her. Her time was running out.

But God, I envied her. She had everything I never did: our parents' love.

Then, the night of her 18th birthday party.

My parents worried I'd make a scene. That I'd piss off the Don of an allied Family.

So they locked me in the cellar. Damp. Cold. While a deadly fever burned through me.

I pounded on the heavy oak door, my voice cracking.

"Mamma, please! Let me out! I'm burning up. My head is splitting open…"

Outside, my mother's voice was a steel trap.

"Enough, Sienna! Today is your sister’s 18th birthday. Her last day alive! Stop the theatrics! Can't you suffer in silence for the Family's honor?"

"But I'm really sick..."

Her footsteps clicked away, fading into nothing.

Then the darkness swallowed me whole.

And on my wrist, the bio-watch was flashing a critical alert.

CRITICAL ALERT: Vital signs mismatch. Paired chip data incompatible. Please verify user.

...

My body went weightless. I was floating.

I drifted through the solid oak door and into the blazing light of the grand hall's crystal chandeliers.

Powerful allies. Rival bosses. All eyes were on the bio-watch ticking down on Vivian's wrist.

Countdown: 03:15:22.

They all believed my twin sister, Vivian, would be dead by the end of the night.

My father, Marcello, and my mother, Valeria, held her close.

Vivian wore that diamond-covered gown. The hem shimmered under the lights.

She coughed twice. A deliberate, weak sound. Her face was pale.

"Mamma, Papa, is my sister really okay?"

Vivian's voice was soft, with just the right touch of a whine. "I think I heard her crying about a headache... It's so cold in the cellar. Will she be okay?"

"Forget her."

Mamma Valeria stroked Vivian's face, brushing her soft, blonde hair from her forehead.

"Exactly. She's not sick," Papa Marcello added, his voice like grinding glass. "She's just an attention whore."

"You only have a few hours left..."

He couldn't finish. He choked on his words. His eyes turned red.

"Just focus on your birthday party. Don't let her ruin it."

Vivian bit her lip and said nothing. Her brow furrowed even deeper.

I knew it. She was putting on another show. Playing the heartbroken sister.

That same look. Sickly, but full of pity for me. Like she owed me something.

Since I can remember, all the Family's love was hers.

I wasn't even worth my own protection.

When an enemy Family tried to snatch me off the street, Vivian "gifted" me two of her guards. A grand gesture of her charity.

Jewels and luxuries? Forget it.

But Vivian always made a show of it. She'd sneak me her desserts in public. She'd pretend to offer me a couture gown she'd only worn once. When Papa Marcello got angry with me, she'd be the first to jump in and protect me.

She would always look at me, her eyes red. "Sienna, I'm so sorry. It's all because of me. You've suffered so much."

But our parents never saw it that way.

Mamma Valeria sighed, her eyes full of pity for Vivian.

"Don't always defend her. That girl has been jealous of you since day one. She can't stand to see you happy."

"You remember her sixteenth birthday?"

Vivian's sixteenth birthday.

That was the first and only time I tried to fight back against this fucked-up fate.

It was our birthday. But I was never allowed to touch the cake.

That day, Papa made an exception and gave Vivian a custom piece. It was a symbol of her birthright. He also had a ten-foot cake made for her.

He and Mamma held Vivian close. They carefully lit the candles for her.

I hid behind a pillar. I watched the candlelight on her face. I watched her hold the gun I'd always dreamed of. I watched her close her eyes to make a wish. I watched the tears welling in my parents' eyes.

I rushed out.

Maybe it was jealousy. Maybe I couldn't stand the smug look she shot me from our parents' arms.

I shoved her. The precious gun fell into the courtyard fountain.

The cake toppled over. The servants rushed to grab me.

I just screamed. I screamed like a cornered animal.

"I don't want to see you give everything to her!"

I still remember the look in my father's eyes.

He took out the family whip. I didn't flinch.

Once. Twice. Three times...

My mother stood by, watching coldly. She didn't stop him.

It was Vivian who threw herself over me, shielding me with her "frail" body.

"Stop it, Papa! Stop it!"

Her voice trembled. She held me tight. But her fingers dug into my shoulders, hard.

"It's my fault. It's all my fault..."

I pushed her away from the pain. That just made my father angrier.

He was so disappointed, he ordered me locked in my room. No dinner.

That night, Vivian snuck into my room. Her mask of concern was gone. In its place, a cruel, triumphant smile twisted her lips.

She leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper meant only for me.

"Oh, Sienna. I am so sorry."

Her cold fingers dug into the raw, swollen welts on my back.

"That chip reads my time. That means they will only ever love me. You are my shadow, Sienna. Born to live and die in it."

...

Now, in the grand hall, Mamma stroked Vivian's face.

"Sienna... just ignore her."

Mamma said, her voice tired. "You know that child has been jealous of you since she could remember."

I froze.

Yes, I was jealous of Vivian.

I was jealous that she had all the Family's love. Jealous she got our father's rare moments of tenderness.

I was jealous that even with only hours left to live, she was still the most precious jewel in our parents' eyes.

I floated towards Vivian. I wanted to tear that fake mask off her face. I wanted to tell everyone the truth.

But my hand passed right through her body. Like moving through a cold mist.

I hung in the air, staring at my transparent fingers.

I looked back at the closed cellar door. A sliver of dead darkness showed underneath.

I floated over, through the wood. I saw my own body, curled up on the cold stone floor.

I was already dead.

My own clock ran out before Vivian's even hit zero.