Me vs. My Sister's Plot Armor
My little sister Willa? Always played the noble princess—even during the freaking apocalypse.
She was pregnant and still trying to look like some graceful queen.
I told her to end it. Safer that way.
She slapped me. "Shut up. How can you be so heartless?"
Meanwhile, I skipped meals so she and her rescue-pet gang could eat. When I collapsed from hunger, she snorted. "Drama queen. Think of it as a free weight-loss plan."
I dragged her to the base, the safe zone, and nearly died doing it. She snatched the last of my rations. "The baby and I are good. Give the rest away."
I died from my injuries—frozen, starving, forgotten.
Willa? She got crowned a saint.
Even landed the baby daddy—the Deputy Governor—and kicked off her perfect little fairytale.
Then I woke up.
Back to the moment she asked me to swear I'd protect her and the baby.
This time, I laughed in her face. "Die for all I care."