Parallel Lies

On the day I turned 22, a mysterious polling page suddenly appeared in our home. [Would you trade the life of Amelia Silverstone for Rosamund Silverstone, who survived in a parallel world?] My parents voted "Yes." They said I had only been born because my sister died in an accident. I owed her this. The poll then appeared on Caelan Jackman's phone. I held my breath as I watched my boyfriend. We had been together for five years. Rosamund had saved his life back then, but if he would just say "no," I felt like I would still have one last reason to hold on. After a long moment of silence, he finally spoke. "This is just a test. She saved my life. I have to help her." He chose "Yes." [All members have cast their votes. Amelia will be replaced by Rosamund in five days.] My mom, Amy, let out a relieved sigh and gently patted my head. "Please understand, sweetie. We'll remember you for the rest of our lives, even after Rosamund comes home." I smiled. "I understand. I just hope the Rosamund who arrives is the daughter you always wanted." Chapter 1 Amelia's POV My mother, Amy Flynn, pressed a hand against the edge of the table and let out a long sigh. "Finally," she whispered, her eyes red. She was smiling. "Rosamund is coming home." My father, Roger Silverstone, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We've waited for this for far too long." They were celebrating my replacement before I had even blown out the candles on my birthday cake. I was so stunned that all I could hear was a loud buzzing in my ears. Amy looked at me. "When did we start waiting again? Oh, right. Since you turned 6. By then, you looked less and less like her." I swallowed, but it felt as though it had gone down the wrong way. I doubled over in a violent coughing fit as tears welled in my eyes. No one tried to help. Amy had started pointing out how little I resembled my sister, Rosamund Silverstone, when I turned 6. Once, she gave me the dress Rosamund had worn at that age and forced me to put it on. It was far too small. The collar constricted my throat until I could barely breathe, and the sleeves squeezed my arms so tightly they felt like restraints. She frowned in displeasure. "Rose didn't look like that when she wore this." She showed me home videos of the sister I was supposed to replace. She would pause them halfway through and point out things like, "Rose never showed her teeth when she smiled," "Rose held her pencil like this," or "Rose spoke softly." Every day, I learned to become her. I mimicked everything she did. I could style my hair the way Rosamund wore hers in my sleep. I could imitate her mannerisms, habits, and even her tone of voice better than I could recite anything I learned at school. I tried so hard to become her. I truly believed my parents would be happier if I did. But no matter how hard I tried, they always looked at me with disappointment. "She's still not like her!" "She's not good enough!" One day, I finally managed to wear that dress perfectly. I even called out to Amy the way Rosamund did in those videos. Amy looked at me and burst into tears. "Stop pretending to be her, Amelia. No matter how good your acting is, you'll never be her!" I dragged myself to my bed and cried the entire night. When morning came, I got up and tried to copy Rosamund's mannerisms all over again. What finally stopped me was Caelan Jackman. He caught me in high school trying to memorize Rosamund's diary entries, snatched the diary from my hands, and threw it into the trash. "You're not anyone's replacement, Amelia! You're you!" he had said. Those words gave me the courage and strength to live as Amelia Silverstone. They were also why I still hoped he would vote "No" in that poll. He voted "Yes." "So, you want to trade me for her too?" I asked, my voice sharp. He avoided my gaze and cleared his throat. "It's just a test, Amelia. It might not mean anything." My tongue went numb. "Did you... did you even think about what it would be like for me when you picked 'Yes'?" He frowned. "Can you stop trying to pick a fight, Amelia? Your mom's already upset enough. She just misses your sister. That's all." Roger pulled my ID out of my bag. I tried to stop him, but he shoved me aside. "Rose needs it when she comes back," he said. "But what about me?" I asked, meeting his eyes. "You are sisters! Sisters share their things!" he snapped. I returned to my room and took out my degree. My fingers had barely brushed across my name when the letters began to change. "Amelia Silverstone" slowly faded until "Rosamund Silverstone" emerged in its place. The picture on the degree blurred until only a vague silhouette remained. I stared at it in disbelief. I forgot even to blink. Only when my eyes had gone dry did I slowly close it. Tears spilled from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. Amy walked into my room, saw what had happened to the degree, and lit up. "Rose never got the chance to grow up," she said. "I'm so glad she finally did." I looked at her, tears streaking my face. "But what if I have to die for that to happen?" Her grip tightened around the edge of the door. I could hear her fingernails scraping against the wood. "Don't be ridiculous," she sneered. Then she closed the door. My knees gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. I wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my face against my knees. Amy had changed my contact name. I was no longer "Amelia." Instead, I was "Rosamund's vessel." Chapter 2 A feast awaited me the next morning. I had not seen such a lavish brunch in a very long time. The warmth rising from the dishes almost made me dizzy. I was allergic to seafood, and I disliked garlic and cheese. Amy knew that, yet she had made garlic bread topped with cheese and prawn pies. "Rose always loved garlic bread. She said it was the best. She was always snacking on these pies too. I have to start practicing her favorite dishes before she comes home. I don't want her complaining that I'm out of practice!" Amy muttered to herself. I stared at my empty plate. Suddenly, I grabbed a piece of bread and took a large bite of the section of bread with the least garlic and forced it down, trying to swallow the anguish welling inside me. Keeping my eyes lowered, I fought to keep the tears out of my voice as I asked, "Did you remember that I'm allergic to seafood?" Amy froze in the middle of what she was doing. "Why is that a problem? Rose is coming home. We need to get used to catering to her tastes as soon as possible. If you don't like any of this food, then skip this meal. It won't kill you." I nodded and went back to my room. … Caelan came to visit that afternoon. His brows drew together when he noticed how pale my lips were. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt, looked at him for a long moment, and asked in a quiet voice, "Can we please go to the beach just this once? I've always wanted to see the ocean. Just... treat this as granting one last request from someone who's about to die." He froze. I thought he would say yes. I truly believed he would agree once I made it that clear. "No. You need to stay here for the next few days. Your mom won't be able to handle it if the Replacement goes wrong." I let out a bitter laugh. "You're that worried she won't get the chance to possess me." His expression darkened. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm worried about you." I lifted my head and blinked as hard as I could. Then I smiled as widely as I possibly could, so hard that the corners of my mouth began to ache. "You voted 'Yes' for my sake too, didn't you? Even though it might kill me?" Caelan lowered his eyes and avoided my gaze. His lips pressed into a thin line. He did not even want to argue with me. I realized there was nothing to gain by arguing, so I returned to my room and opened the app. I logged in using the password Amy used for all her devices. It worked. I was able to access my health reports including items such as my sleep duration, mood fluctuations, and so on. They had been tracking my condition all along in preparation. My stomach suddenly churned. I braced myself against the table as a bitter, sickly sweetness rose in my throat. A bright red microphone icon appeared at the bottom of the page. I pressed it, and a soft voice played through the speaker. "Mom... Don't do this to her. I don't want to replace her. She's your daughter too." Shock crashed over me. I ran to Amy and held the phone out to her. "Listen! Rose sent a voice message! It's her!" Amy dropped her spoon the instant she heard Rosamund's voice. "Rose!" Then her expression turned cold. As soon as the message ended, she swung her hand across my cheek. Heat exploded across my face, and my ears rang from the force of the blow. "How dare you fake her voice? You never wanted her to come back, did you?!" Roger snatched the phone from my hand and deleted the voice message. "Your sister has already died once! Do you want her to die again?!" I turned to Caelan, numb with disbelief. "You heard her, didn't you? She said she doesn't want to come back." I pulled up the page where members could revoke their votes and held the phone out to him. "Honor her wish. Revoke your vote... and I'll still be able to live." Amy suddenly dropped to her knees and grabbed his hand. "Don't! Don't do this! I'm begging you! She saved your life! You can't betray her! She wants to come back!" Caelan closed his eyes. After a long moment, he set the phone down. "I'm sorry, Amelia." My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes. He stepped forward and reached for my hand. I pulled away. "Don't touch me. You wanted this to happen." Chapter 3 I had a nightmare. When I woke up, I reached for the other side of the bed. It was a habit I had developed to comfort myself. I always felt better when I could hold my cat. My hand found nothing. My blood ran cold. I threw the blanket aside and dropped to my knees to look under the bed. Then I searched the balcony, the closet, and the couch. I searched everywhere. At last, I found its collar in the trash can. A few strands of orange fur still clung to it. I bent down to pick it up, but when I straightened, a wave of dizziness washed over me. Amy walked out of the kitchen with a spatula in her hand. "Stop looking. It's gone," she said matter-of-factly. "Rose's allergic to cats. We can't have those things in the house anymore." I tightened my grip on the collar until the little bell dug into my palm. My voice trembled so violently that it startled even me. "But it's been with me for seven years. It must be scared now that it's alone. It's... not very brave..." The last words came out as little more than a croak. My voice broke. Amy frowned. "Your sister would be scared too, Amelia. Can you please stop being so selfish and think about someone besides yourself?" I couldn't breathe. No matter how desperately I tried to draw in air, my lungs refused to fill. I braced myself against the wall and stood there, gasping for what felt like forever. The moment the dizziness eased, I bolted out of the house. "Amelia!" Amy shouted. I ran without looking back. I questioned the security guards, my neighbors, and everyone in the neighborhood group chat. I even asked the superintendent for the security footage. One of the security guards told me he had seen someone carrying an orange cat off the property that morning. I sprinted to the dumpster and searched every trash can and every bush nearby. My cat was nowhere to be found. My knees threatened to buckle. Sweat soaked through my shirt until the fabric clung cold and damp to my back. … That evening, someone posted a message in the neighborhood group. [Whose cat is this? Found it under the rain shelter.] My whole body shook. It was my cat. It was curling into itself beside a cardboard box, its fur soaked by the rain. It kept staring toward the apartment where I lived. I grabbed my raincoat and rushed for the door, but Amy stepped into my path. Roger stormed out of his study and barked, "Are you actually thinking about bringing that thing back? How selfish and cruel are you?" He raised his hand. "Your sister hasn't even come home yet, and you're already cooking up a scheme to hurt her!" I stood there and waited for the blow. I wished he would hit me as hard as he could. At least, that pain would be real, something I could see and feel. It would be better than the crushing, imploding weight of grief lodged in my chest. Amy stepped between us and caught his wrist. "Don't! What if you leave a scar? That would go to Rose!" Roger's hand remained suspended in the air. The taste of metal filled my mouth. This face... wasn't even mine anymore. … They shoved me into my bedroom while I screamed and fought back. Roger pried my fingers from the door frame while Amy held the door shut. The door slammed in my face. I threw myself against it, twisting the doorknob over and over, desperately willing it to open. That night, another neighbor posted a photo. Orange lay in the back alley beside the street. The puddle beneath its body had spread into a pool of the most heart-wrenching color. [The cat got hit by a car, y'all. By the time I tried to help, it was already gone.] [It kept looking toward the apartment entrance. It wouldn't leave no matter how many times people shooed it away. I don't know. It looked like it was waiting for someone. Are you sure it doesn't have an owner?] I wanted to call out to Orange through the photo, but my voice felt trapped inside the hollow cavern in my chest. Only tears escaped, along with a broken, pathetic yelp. I clenched my fists. My fingers dug so deeply into my palms that I didn't realize I was bleeding until I felt something warm trickle down my hand. Orange's bell had cut a shallow gash into my skin. I wept. I curled into a ball and wept until my whole body trembled. Orange had been my friend for seven years. When everyone else cared only about a sister who was already gone, Orange was the only one that cared enough to wait at the entrance to our home for me. And they had thrown it away too. Even while it was waiting for me. The bell chimed. My phone screen lit up. [You have one chance to deny the Replacement. Do you wish to deny it?] I looked at the picture of my cat, drenched in rain and lying in a pool of blood. I made my choice. [OK. The Replacement will proceed.] Chapter 4 My body seemed to calm down the moment I decided to go through with the process. I leaned quietly against my bedroom door. Through the wood, I could hear my parents talking. "One more day? I can hardly wait one more day!" Amy said, lowering her voice. "It's already moving as fast as it can," Roger replied. "It's still not fast enough." She sighed. "Just thinking about my darling Rose having to wait one more minute breaks my heart!" For some reason, her words no longer upset me. It felt as though the crushing weight on my chest had finally begun to lift. I even found myself counting down the time until it was over. Amy showed me an album filled with cake designs. "Pick one." I pointed to the white cake with the lace-trimmed edge. She brought out a box of colorful candles. "Now pick these." I took out eight candles and lined them up on the table. Amy froze. Her eyes reddened as she looked at me. "Is this cake for my farewell ceremony, or is it meant to welcome Rosamund?" I asked calmly. She looked away, her fingers trembling. "Don't say that!" … That afternoon, Roger started clearing out my room. My notebooks, cards, certificates, awards, everything was taken out and stuffed into a black trash bag. Amy covered my entire bed in pink decorations. "It's her favorite color," she said. My desk was moved out, and Rosamund's old easel was brought in. As they set it down, it kicked up a cloud of dust. I accidentally inhaled it and broke into a cough, my chest aching. "Don't breathe that in!" Amy said sharply. "We don't want the body getting sick." I reached into the trash bag and pulled out a notebook, but she pressed my hand back down. "We shouldn't keep these things. Rose might feel isolated if she sees them in her room." I let go. The notebook slipped back into the bag, and one of the stickers peeled away from the edge. Caelan showed up that evening carrying his own notebook. "Could you write down some tips and a few notes about me?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "Things like my stomach problems, so I can't drink iced beverages. Or that I don't like people touching my laptop." My throat felt dry too. "You want her to learn your habits and routine from these notes, huh? So she can replace me as your girlfriend as quickly as possible, right?" Caelan's eyes turned red. "I'm just worried she'll have trouble getting used to me." Without feeling anything at all, I wrote down everything he asked for. Roger came over holding my debit card. "How much do you still have in savings?" "Rose will need money to buy clothes and take care of some procedures and... well, she'll need money," Amy added quietly. My savings were everything I had earned from part-time jobs, what remained of my scholarship money, and the allowance I had managed to save during college. Even so, I transferred every cent to my mother's account without hesitation. I closed my banking app after the receipt appeared. When Amy saw the notification on her phone, her expression softened. "You're such an understanding sweetheart, Amelia," she said. Two hours remained. They asked me to record a video message. Roger even had a script prepared. "This is Amelia Silverstone. I've chosen to undergo the Replacement of my own free will, without any threat or coercion. Please don't blame my family... and welcome home, Rosamund." Amy raised her phone and pointed it at us. "Smile, sweetie. Don't let anyone see that something's wrong." Caelan swallowed hard and started to speak. "Maybe this isn't such a good ide—" Tears streamed down Amy's face. "What if people ask where Amelia went? Do you want them to ostracize Rosamund the moment she comes back?" Caelan fell silent. I turned toward the camera and forced my lips into a painful smile. The effort made every muscle in my face ache. "This is Amelia Silverstone. I've chosen to undergo the Replacement of my own free will, without any threat or coercion. Please don't blame my family..." I paused. "Welcome home, Rosamund. I hope you like it here... because I don't want it anymore." Mom's face drained of color. "Delete that! Record it again!" A notification suddenly appeared on the screen. Someone had sent a message. [No! Let her speak! I don't want a home like this, Mom!] Silence swallowed the living room as a second message appeared. [Do any of you still remember what kind of person I was?]