Blurb：
My sister Ava and I are twins, but our lives couldn't be more different. She was the brilliant, sweet girl who got into Duke University, while I was the problem child sent to Blackwood Academy for behavioral reform. When Ava ends up hospitalized because of her college classmates—Ashley and the others who mocked her suffering—I decide enough is enough. I put on her clothes, practice her innocent face, and step into her world. This time, our parents don't stop me.
At Blackwood Academy, I learned to bury my anger, to become a ghost. But seeing Ava broken, facing a future with a colostomy bag and stolen dreams, something snaps. As notifications from Ashley's group chat light up Ava's phone, I realize the truth: my sister wasn't living in the sun—she was trapped in a darkness deeper than any I've known.
Now, I'm done being obedient. I'll use every lesson from Blackwood Academy, every buried instinct, to make them pay. Ashley and her friends think they're untouchable, but they've never met someone like me. Hush now—not a single one of them is getting away.
Content：
My sister, Ava, and I are twins. She was born brilliant, the sweet, lovely girl who got into a school like Duke.I was the problem child, the one our parents sent to a behavioral academy to be reformed.
Later, when Ava was hospitalized because of her college classmates—the same ones who laughed and said they could cover the damages if they each skipped a meal—I put on her clothes, picked up her backpack, and practiced her innocent face in the mirror.
This time, my parents didn't try to stop me.
1
The academy only let us go home once a month. I had been waiting for this day for a long, long time.
When I pushed open Ava’s bedroom door, my palm was sweating around the gift I’d brought her. It was a butterfly specimen I’d made in art therapy.
I could already picture her expression—the way her eyes would go wide with surprise before she launched herself into my arms.
But the gift never left my hand. I found her unconscious on her bed, not moving.
Ava was rushed to the hospital. A doctor took one look at her injuries, and his face went grim. “Get her to an OR. Don’t wait. Now!”
The heavy steel doors of the operating room swung shut, and that was all we saw for hours. Every time they opened, it was only to deliver more bad news.
Mom was a heap in a plastic chair, sobbing. Dad stood rigid, signing what felt like a hundred forms with a shaking hand. “What has she done to deserve this?” Mom wept. “My beautiful, good girl.”
When a team of surgeons finally came out, their faces were etched with defeat.
“We did everything we could,” one of them said. “She’s unlikely to ever be able to have children.”
The only comfort he could offer was this:
“If her recovery goes well, she’ll need to use a colostomy bag for the rest of her life.”
He paused, letting the weight of that settle on us.
“And if it doesn’t go well…”
2
Mom’s eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted. Dad, his composure finally shattering, grabbed the surgeon’s arm, his voice cracking. “Please, Doctor, you have to save her. She’s just a kid. Her whole life is ahead of her. This can’t be her life.”
The surgeon could only shake his head, his expression grim. There was nothing more to say.
A vibration from my pocket. It was Ava’s phone. I’d grabbed it from her nightstand in the chaos. Notifications were popping up, one after another, like relentless taps on a coffin lid.
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The End