Chapter 1: The Weight of the Shroud

“If you’re too much of a coward to wear it, then don’t bother coming to our own birthday party,” my twin sister sneered, holding up the neon-pink string bikini—completely unaware that the scars she was trying to expose were the exact reason she was still alive to mock me.

Our shared bathroom felt less like a sanctuary and more like a heavily contested demilitarized zone.

The wide marble counter was a chaotic battlefield of expensive cosmetics, shimmering highlighters, and curling irons, all of it Chloe’s.

She stood before the brilliantly lit vanity mirror, admiring her reflection. Her skin was a flawless golden tapestry, radiating the kind of effortless, sun-kissed perfection that made people stop and stare.

Leaning against the doorframe, suffocating in the oppressive July heat, was me. Maya.