Chapter 4: The Shattered Mirror

“You think you can just get away with everything you’ve done to your twin sister? You tried to get rid of her back then, and now you’re showing your true colors!”

She jerked my head down, forcing me to my knees on the cold hardwood floor. The impact sent a jolt through my joints, but I didn't make a sound.

“Beg for forgiveness,” Mom commanded, her voice trembling with rage. “Kneel and beg, and I’ll let everything you’ve done slide. Show some remorse for the life you stole from her!”

I looked up. From my position on the floor, Elena looked like a queen on a throne of lies. She looked down at me, her eyes shimmering with a fake, watery light that my parents mistook for compassion.

“Oh, Mom, no! Please, let her go,” Elena said, her voice a melodic, heartbreaking sob. She stepped forward, reaching out a hand as if to help me, but the look in her eyes was a jagged blade. “I understand if she’s angry. It’s been a very long time... with time, me and my twin sister will get along soon… right, Elara?”

She flashed an evil, microscopic smile—the kind only a victim is meant to see.

This didn't happen in my past life.

In my past life, I would have stayed there. I would have sobbed at her feet, apologized for my jealousy, and spent the next decade trying to earn back a seat at a table that was never meant for me. I was a dog then, desperate for a pat on the head.

But dogs eventually learn how to bite.

I reached up and grabbed my mother’s wrists. My grip was like iron. With a sudden, forceful wrench, I tore her hands away from my hair. I heard the sickening snap of a few strands breaking, and a fresh wave of pain radiated across my skull. I ignored it. This pain was a drop in the ocean compared to the feeling of a surgical saw cutting through my ribs.

I stood up slowly, my height dwarfing my mother’s cowering frame. I didn't brush the dust off my knees. I didn't cry. I simply looked my mother in the eye.

The air in the room felt heavy, as if the house itself were holding its breath. My mother’s hand flew back, her palm flat, ready to deliver a blow that would mark my face for a week.

But before she could strike, Elena moved. She threw herself between us, hugging my mother tightly, her head buried in Mom’s shoulder.

“No, Mom! Don't!” Elena begged, her shoulders shaking with fright. “Don't hurt her because of me. I couldn't bear it! I’d rather go back to the streets than see this family torn apart!”

My father stepped forward, his face a mask of disgust. “Look at her, Elara. Look at the sister you tried to destroy. She’s a saint, and you’re a cancer. If it weren't for the Grant contract, I’d throw you out into the gutter tonight.”

“The Grant contract,” I repeated, the words feeling like a cold stone in my mouth. “Is that all I am? A signature on a piece of paper to save your failing business?”

“You’re lucky you’re worth even that much,” my father spat.

I turned my gaze to Elena. She was still crying into my mother’s chest, but she shifted just enough to look at me. The mask was gone for a split second. She wanted to see me break. She wanted to see me crawl back into the shadows.

Instead, I took a step toward her. My mother flinched, pulling Elena back as if I were a rabid animal.

“You want my forgiveness, Elena?” I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm. “You want us to get along? We actually can” I said with a smile. oh only if you know the beautiful plans I have prepared for you.

I pulled back from Elena, the silence in the room ringing like a struck bell. I didn't look at my mother’s trembling hand or my father’s reddened face. I had spent twenty-three years starving for their affection; tonight, I realized I was finally full.

I turned my back on them and walked toward the grand staircase.

"Where do you think you're going?" my father roared. "I’m not finished with you!"

"I am," I said, my voice cutting through his anger like a shard of glass.

I went to my room and locked the door. I didn't pack clothes or mementos. I reached into the back of my closet, pulling out a burner phone I had bought three days after I woke up in this timeline. My fingers didn't tremble as I dialed a number I had memorized during the darkest nights of my previous life—a number I had once discarded to please a family that ended up killing me.

The phone rang twice.

"Mister Joe," I said, my voice steady. "Is the contract still available?"

There was a long pause on the other end, the sound of a heavy lighter clicking open, then a low, gravelly chuckle. "It’s always ready for you, Miss Elara. Have you finished changing your mind?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Good. I’ve been waiting for you for so long. You have the talent to rule the jewelry world, and I have the platform. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Let’s just say I’ve realized that being a 'dutiful daughter' is a job with no pension," I said, looking at my reflection in the vanity mirror. "I’ll be at your office at midnight to sign."

"I'll have the vintage scotch ready," Joe said.

I hung up. In my past life, I was a fool. I had rejected Joe’s offer because my father told me it was 'treason' to work outside the Silas family business. They wanted me under their thumb, designing jewelry that bore my father’s name while they siphoned every cent I earned into Elena’s trust fund and Leo’s medical bills.

They used my talent to build their empire and then used that empire to crush me.

Not this time.

I looked down at the street below. A black sedan was idling at the corner—John’s car. He was there, waiting in the shadows just as he had been in the first life, but I wasn't ready to go to him yet. I couldn't go to him as a victim looking for a savior. I had to go to him as an equal.

I grabbed my sketchbook—the only thing in this house that actually belonged to me—and opened the window. The rain lashed against my face, cold and liberating.

Downstairs, I could hear them. My mother was coddling Elena, and my father was likely on the phone trying to salvage the Grant merger. They thought I was a signature on a page. They thought they owned my heart.

They didn't realize I had already sold it to the highest bidder, and the first payment was going to be their ruin.

I climbed out onto the balcony, the stone slick under my palms. As I dropped to the grass below, I didn't look back at the lights of the mansion. I disappeared into the treeline, heading toward the back gate where a different life was waiting.

The Silas Company was a house of cards built on my labor. Tonight, I started pulling out the foundation.