3: 3
The next day, Aunt Denise Dickerson came by to ask about college applications.
She sat on the couch cracking sunflower seeds while my cousin, Ryan Dickerson, slouched beside her with his eyes on his phone.
Gwyneth had a tablet out, scrolling through schools for him.
"With Ryan's scores he'll get into Seaport City U no problem. Their pre-med program is really strong. Ryan, you want to do medicine, right?"
Ryan didn't even look up. He gave a flat little grunt.
The smile froze on Gwyneth's face.
"Gwynnie's just so sharp. I knew coming to ask you was the right call."
Aunt Denise jumped in at once, then turned her head toward me where I sat on the stool.
"That one—you—"
She paused, trying to place my name, and couldn't.
"Never mind. How's the job search going?"
I was used to it by now.
"Aunt Denise, I—"
"Her name's Kayla Sullivan."
Ryan put down his phone and lifted his head.
"I really don't get what's so unspeakable about a name. Gwyneth, are you seriously this dramatic?"
The moment the words left him, the living room went dead silent.
Gwyneth shot to her feet and bolted into the kitchen like something had snapped in her, came back with a knife, and held it to her own throat.
"You all want me dead, don't you? So she can take my identity, take my parents?"
Her voice was ragged from screaming.
"Why did you switch me at birth in the first place? Do you know how much I've suffered?"
"I spent my whole life thinking I was a child nobody wanted, and now you tell me someone else was out there living my life, while I paid the price for her?"
"Why should I be the one to carry your mistake?"
Mom went white with fear. Dad held his hands out, begging her to calm down.
Ivor James, who must have gotten a message, came rushing in.
"Gwynnie, you're the only daughter Uncle and Auntie have. And you've got me. Haven't I been right here beside you this whole time?"
He moved toward her, one step at a time.
"Good girl. Listen to me. Give me the knife."
The instant before Ivor could take the knife from her hand—
Gwyneth suddenly lunged at me with it, and the tip dragged a line of blood down my arm.
"Gwynnie! Are you okay?"
"You scared me half to death."
"The only one your dad and I love is you!"
Mom, Dad, and Ivor all crowded in around Gwyneth.
Nobody saw the blood running down my arm.
"Kayla, you're bleeding! We need to get to a hospital!"
Ryan grabbed Aunt Denise and hurried me to the emergency room.
The whole way there, he kept apologizing.
"Kayla, I didn't think Gwyneth would actually lose it and hurt you. I'm sorry."
He was the only one in that house who still remembered my name.
I told him I didn't blame him.
Gwyneth had done it on purpose. She wasn't crazy at all. It was just a way to drive me out.
I didn't say any of that out loud.
Because even if I did, no one would believe me.
It wasn't until my wound was bandaged and I'd left the hospital that three texts came through on my phone.
The first was from Mom.
"Don't say anything when you get home. Gwynnie can't take any more upset."
The second was from Dad.
"Don't hold today against Gwynnie."
The last one was from Ivor.
"You enjoyed watching Gwynnie fall apart because of you, didn't you?"
Not one person asked about my injury.
I carried the plastic bag of medicine home.
I pushed open the attic door and found my suitcase flung open on the floor, everything inside torn through and scattered.
All of my ID documents were gone.
Ivor's voice was flat.
"Gwynnie won't have anything in this house that has your name on it."
"To calm her down, I threw it all out right in front of her."
4: 4
"Have you lost your mind?"
The shout tore out of me before I could stop it, aimed straight at Ivor.
"Where did you throw them?"
Without those documents I couldn't get to the research institute at all, and getting replacements issued would make me miss the reporting date.
Mom and Dad came to the top of the stairs and scolded me in low voices.
"Keep your voice down. Gwynnie's resting in her room. She doesn't want to hear you."
I was shaking all over, fighting to hold it together, but the tears came anyway.
"Ivor, where did you throw them?"
Ivor had never seen me like this, out of control, and a flicker of panic crossed his face.
"In the trash cans by the front gate. Don't cry. Worst case, I'll go with you tomorrow to get them reissued—"
Before he finished, I'd shoved past him and run out the door.
Barefoot, I ran to the trash area by the complex gate, and the heat and the stench made me gag.
Twelve bins, all full, and I dug through them one by one.
Partway through, a security guard came over with a stick to chase me off.
"Where'd this beggar come from? You've made a mess of the bins. Who's supposed to clean this up?"
I begged them through my tears.
"My family threw out my documents. I have to find them."
The bandaged wound tore open, blood running down my elbow and dripping to the ground.
I don't know how long I searched, but I finally found my documents in one of the bags.
I took some tissues from my pocket and wiped them clean.
Filthy and barefoot, I walked back home.
The stones had cut my feet open, leaving bloody prints along the ground.
I reached out to enter the door code.
"Incorrect password," the lock announced, the alert echoing down the hallway.
Mom's voice came from behind the door.
"Your dad and I talked it over. Go stay somewhere else for a while, and once Gwynnie's doing better, you can come back."
An envelope slid out under the gap in the door.
She lowered her voice.
"A transfer might let Gwynnie see it, so take this cash and use it for now."
I drew a deep breath.
"My luggage—"
Before I could finish, she opened the door and pushed out the suitcase I'd already packed.
Then she shut the door at once.
I didn't miss it, that instant before the door closed, the way she covered her nose and looked at me with disgust.
The hallway went quiet again.
This time, I didn't cry.
My tears had never been able to compete with Gwyneth's moods.
I left the envelope on the floor untouched.
I picked up the phone sitting on my suitcase and changed my flight from tomorrow night to tonight.
Went to a public bathhouse and washed up.
Then I dragged my suitcase to the airport.
Just before I turned the phone off, I saw a message pop up in the family group chat.
Gwyneth had posted a photo of herself with Mom, Dad, and Ivor, all seated at the dining table.
On the table sat an elegant birthday cake.
Written across it: "Happy Birthday to Princess Gwynnie."
Today was my birthday too.
It was only that ever since Gwyneth came back, I hadn't been allowed to celebrate my birthday with her.
In the chat, Mom, Dad, and Ivor had all sent her birthday cash gifts.
The next second, Ivor sent me a birthday gift in a private message.
Underneath it he added a line:
"Why don't you go change your name? The name was Gwynnie's to begin with, after all."
I didn't reply.
I tapped to leave the family group, then blocked every one of them.
Powered off.
……
Watching the notice that Kayla had left the group, Mom and Dad had no reaction at all.
Gwyneth's lips curved, and she ate with even more enjoyment.
Ivor sent Kayla a question mark, meaning to ask why on earth she'd suddenly left the group, only to see he'd been blocked.
He frowned, chalking it up to Kayla throwing a fit over what he'd said.
It wasn't until half a month later, when no one could reach Kayla at all, that everyone noticed something was wrong.
Mom, Dad, and Ivor rushed to the police station to file a report.
The officer on duty was the very one who had recovered Gwyneth all those years ago.
His face went white, and he pulled them into a blind spot away from the cameras.
"I knew this couldn't stay buried forever. I just didn't think you'd find out this soon—"
