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Her haughtiness melts off her face. “Let me level with you.”
“Please do, Jane.” It’s so good to finally know her name.
She jolts slightly. “My whole life I was curious about my mysterious sister. I dreamed about what it would’ve been like if we had grown up together. I thought of the nightly slumber parties and giggling over shared secrets.”
“I fail to see how that led to you hating me.”
Jane glares at me with an intensity that takes my breath away. It’s eerie seeing such negativity on what looks like my face. “If you’d be a little patient, I’ll get to that.”
“I can’t wait.”
If she picks up on my dripping sarcasm, she doesn’t show it. “Now where was I?”
“Dreaming about slumber parties. Something I never had the chance to ponder.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “You didn’t think that would be fun?”
“I didn’t even know I had a sister! While your parents were open about your adoption, I wasn’t so fortunate. I only found out about mine since you came to town.”
“Interesting.”
“That’s one word for it,” I mutter. “Carry on with your story.”
Jane tucks some hair behind her ear, a gesture which annoys me to no end even though it probably shouldn’t.
Am I as irritating as her?
“You really didn’t know about the adoption?” she asks.
“I look a lot like my dad, so I never questioned my genetics.”
“And your parents never told you?”
“Nope. Can we get back to why you hate me so much?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“I wish it were.”
She pulls her hair back into a ponytail. “While you were lucky enough to get a rich and happy family, I was not. Everything has been a struggle for me since the day I was born. You got everything good, and I got the scraps. Worse than scraps, actually.”
“If you’d have reached out to me, I’d have been more than happy to help you out.”
“I didn’t want charity.”
“You’d rather ruin my life?” I snap. “Is that it? Make me pay for something that wasn’t my fault? I had no say in what family I ended up with—no more than you did.”
She rolls her eyes. “You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me!”
“You’re so self-absorbed, you think this is about you. It isn’t. I’m not trying to ruin your life.”
“What, then?”
“Iwantyour life.”
It takes me a moment to process her words. “You’re attempting to step into my life? Is that what you’re saying?”
