Page 137 of The Hollywood Switch-up

“I’m angry I had to do that. And I’m angry you let me.”

“Let me?” Anneliese’s voice cracked. “I know I pushed you into it. I know I made it feel like there wasn't another option. I was trying to protect⁠—”

“Anneliese,” Dr. Hanson said. Not sharply. Just enough. “Let Erika finish.”

But Anneliese couldn’t stop—the words tumbling out.

“Annie.” Erika’s whisper stopped her. Anneliese froze.

“This isn’t about you.” Erika’s voice steadied. “It’s always about you—your career, your guilt, your need to fix everyone.”

Years making herself smaller so Anneliese could shine, bending herself into whatever shape was needed—supportive sister, invisible twin, the quiet one who never made waves. It was coming up whether she wanted it to or not.

“You see the little sister who needs saving. The fragile one who can’t face the real world.” She held her sister’s gaze. “Not your twin. Not your equal. Just the one who needs saving.”

Erika’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She didn’t try to hide them.

“I’ve spent my life shrinking myself so you could grow. Bending around your storms.” The words came out raw and jagged. “I’m done disappearing.”

The room went quiet. Something had landed.

Anneliese’s face crumpled. Erika had seen her sister cry before. This was different. This was the real version—shoulders shaking, mascara tracking down her cheeks, ugly and specific.

“I never—” Anneliese’s voice broke. “Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I don’t replay it every single night? The call I should have made, the contract I should have broken⁠—”

Erika wiped her own eyes.

“I know.” She knew Anneliese had never meant for any of this to happen. “But I did it anyway. And you let me. We’ve danced this our whole lives—you, indestructible; me, always in need of saving.”

Anneliese was still crying—the kind she never let anyone see. Erika sat with it. Didn’t try to fix it.

“Does that make me a bad sister?”

Anneliese lifted her head, face wrecked. “No.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Bean, it makes you—God, Eri, it makes you braver than I’ve ever been.”

Anneliese’s fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt. “I’m terrified. How do I be your sister if I’m not the one holding you together?”

Erika leaned forward until their knees touched. “We’ll figure it out. Together, but apart.”

Dr. Hanson leaned forward. “Erika, what scares you about giving up that role?”

“That I’d be abandoning her. That she’d fall apart without me there to catch her.” She forced herself to finish. “That she’d hate me.”

Anneliese made a sound. “Abandoning? Eri⁠—”

Erika drew in a breath.

“I found an apartment. I’m moving out.”

Anneliese went rigid.

“Okay. Okay. We’ll find you something nearby—same block, same zip⁠—”

“Dr. Hanson’s arranged a place.” Erika made herself hold her sister’s gaze. “In Silver Lake.”

Thirty minutes away.

“So everyone knew but me.” Anneliese’s voice went flat. “Dr. Hanson. Probably Bradley. And I’m—what, the last to know my own sister is leaving?”