Chapter 1

I saw my baby brother get switched at birth, and I didn't do a damn thing.

Because last time around, I'd nearly gotten myself killed trying to keep him. And all that got me was my face sliced open by some psycho, and my brother falling for some scholarship case.

Then, to make sure his precious little girlfriend got the only spot to get into college early, my brother drove a car straight into me.

"Sis, don't blame me," he'd spat, all twisted up with hatred. "Blame yourself for being such a tightwad, not giving up that early admission for Amy."

He even had the nerve to taunt me. "You're a freakin' monster, and you deserved that scar. You got what you had coming."

This time, I'm keeping my hands clean. I'll watch the whole damn thing go down and not bat an eye when my brother gets swapped.

......

A baby's screaming is what dragged me back to the world.

I blinked, realizing I was sprawled on a hospital bed, my mom asleep next to me, all worn out after having my new brother.

It hit me like a ton of bricks �C I'd been thrown back to the day the psycho was gonna switch my baby bro.

Just to be sure, I glanced at the crying bundle, and sure enough, there he was. The creep was sliding the gold bracelet off my brother's wrist, fumbling with it onto his own kid's arm.

The baby wailed even louder, and the guy, all twitchy and impatient, backhanded my baby brother and knocked him out cold.

Then, he got that feeling like he was being watched and glanced my way.

I snapped my eyes shut, acting like I was still out cold.

Last time, I'd fought like a wildcat, all three years of me, hanging onto that creep's leg, trying to stop him from taking my brother.

He'd kicked me so hard I hit the wall and broke a couple of ribs.

I'd screamed my lungs out, and some nurses finally came running.

That lowlife, pissed I ruined his plans, had pulled a knife and cut my face to ribbons.

"You screwed up my kid's chance at a good life, so you ain't gonna have one either," he'd said.

After that, I was scarred for life and sick for forever, and I didn't even start first grade with my brother until I was like, nine.

School was pure hell, everyone either laughing at me or just plain staring. Even my folks and my brother looked at me like I was some kind of embarrassment.

I buried myself in books, hoping to get into college, get a good job, and leave them all in the dust and start over.

But then, senior year rolled around, and I finally got the one early admission spot. My own brother, the little jerk, had no problem running me over with a car to get that spot for his scholarship girlfriend.

He'd looked down at me, with eyes full of hate. "Sis, don't blame me," he'd said. "Blame yourself for being such a tightwad, not giving up that early admission for Amy."

He even taunted me. "You're a freakin' monster, and you deserved that scar. You got what you had coming."

And I was scarred for him.

Then, the worst part was, my parents didn't even blame him. They helped him cover the whole thing up.

Right there, lying in my own blood, I'd sworn that if I ever got another chance, I'd respect my brother's "destiny" and keep my damn mouth shut.

Right now, I heard the footsteps fading, the door clicking shut behind them.

I opened my eyes, and the lowlife was gone. My brother was gone too.

My mom woke up right around then.

"Honey, did you hear your brother crying?" she asked.

I tilted my head, all innocent like. "Crying? Nope, I didn't hear a thing."

"Guess I was dreaming," she said, looking confused.

A week later, my mom and my new, cheap-knockoff brother, Joe, got discharged from the hospital.

And I got sent to preschool.