Chapter 2

2

Mother was desperate to keep Willow in the hospital for a few more days, terrified that her precious daughter wouldn't recover perfectly.

But Willow knew she was fine, and she wasn't about to spend her days eating bland hospital food and staring at white walls.

With just a few sweet words and a tug on Mother's sleeve, she got exactly what she wanted.

They finally brought her home.

The moment she stepped into the house, she walked toward my room with a fake, piteous look on her face.

"Elora? Are you feeling better? Mom got me the most expensive scar cream from the clinic. Do you want to share some?"

Anyone with half a brain could see she was just gloating, rubbing her favor in my face.

But my parents always chose to be blind when it came to her.

Dad snorted, dropping a mountain of shopping bags onto the floor―all new designer clothes he'd bought to celebrate Willow's homecoming.

Mother nodded in agreement. "Willow, honey, you're too kind. You shouldn't keep tolerating her behavior."

"Besides, she's fine. She was just faking it at the hospital to make us feel guilty."

I should have been used to it by now, but those words felt like a serrated blade across my soul.

My lips trembled as I tried to scream that I wasn't faking, that I was dead.

But no sound came out.

My memories drifted back to the day of the accident.

It was a school field trip.

Willow had been laughing and joking with her friends the whole way, tossing her heavy backpack to me. It was stuffed with gourmet snacks Mother had packed.

My own bag was empty, containing nothing but a battered plastic water bottle.

I was thin and weak, but Willow forced me to carry her bags and her friends' bags too. I was gasping for air within minutes.

When we reached the crosswalk, I begged her for a second to rest so I could take a drink of water.

Willow just rolled her eyes, telling me that since I grew up doing manual labor in the woods, this was nothing.

She ignored the red light and yanked my arm to force me across the street just as a semi-truck roared around the corner.

Exhausted and weighed down, I stumbled. The force of her pull threw me right into the path of the wheels.

Willow jumped back just in time, only hitting the pavement and skinning her knee.

The phantom pain of the impact surged through my ghostly form, making me break into a cold sweat.

"Where is Elora?" Mother's voice boomed, snapping me back to the present. "I told her she was grounded. Is that brat out running wild again?"

I realized then that even if she found out I was dead, she probably wouldn't feel a thing.

Willow lowered her head, murmuring softly, "I think Elora might be with..."

She trailed off, looking hesitant and worried.

"Willow, if you know something, tell me! Don't worry, I won't let her lay a finger on you."

"I think she's seeing some guy... I see them together at school all the time. He looks like trouble."

Mother's face turned a violent shade of red. "Unbelievable! Sneaking around with boys at her age!"

"Just wait until she crawls back here. I'm going to teach her a lesson she'll never forget!"

Dad nodded grimly. "Don't you dare follow in her footsteps, Willow," he warned.

Willow nodded obediently, looking like a perfect little angel.

I had seen this scene a thousand times. No matter what lies came out of Willow's mouth, they believed her without question.

They never asked for my side. They never cared about the truth.

To them, trying to understand me was just a waste of their precious time.