Chapter 4

Emma Mia Nota – POV

Something’s wrong with Amelia . She avoids water like it’s poison. She even flinches near it. Is she sick? Losing her mind? No, that can't be. She’s been acting strange for weeks now—says she’s sick, but nothing ever gets better.

Even at school, Charlotte says Amelia is always distracted, lost in her thoughts. What’s going on with my twin? Why won’t she tell me anything? I’m her sister. We share everything. She should be able to talk to me.

I needed answers. So, I walked to her room and knocked.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Amelia. Open up.”

I heard her footsteps approach. She opened the door, and I walked in, sitting on her bed. She closed the door behind me.

“I can tell something’s bothering you,” I began. “You’re not Amelia I know. We used to laugh and hang out. Now you’re always locked in here. Even at school you keep to yourself. You don’t even hang with Charlotte anymore. I’m not trying to force anything—but I’m your twin. If something’s wrong, you can tell me. You know I won’t judge you.”

She looked at me and said,

“There’s nothing wrong, really. Maybe I’m just growing up.”

I could tell she was lying. But I didn’t want to push.

“Okay then,” I said gently. “Can I sleep here with you tonight?”

“Sleep with me?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah, is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just... you never ask that. Why now?”

I shrugged. “I just want to be close to my sister. And I can see you’re not yourself lately. Even if you’re sick, please don’t isolate yourself like this.”

“I’ll stop,” she said. “And I’m okay, really. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re worrying me anyway,” I said. “And Mama’s worried too. But she’s scared to talk to you because you won’t open up to her either.”

“I said I’m fine,” she repeated. “Really.”

I let it go, happy just to be near her. That night, we slept in the same room, and it felt nice… but deep down, I could tell something still wasn’t right. Amelia was smiling, but not with her whole face. She was forcing it. She wasn’t fully there.

Amelia Isla Nota – POV

It was actually nice to sit with Emma again. I missed her. She was happy, chatting, even laughing. But her timing was off—I wasn’t in a good place. I tried to match her mood, tried to act normal, but inside, I felt hollow.

Eventually, it was time to help Mom with dinner.

Emma looked at me and said, “Come help us cook, sis. You’re better now, right?”

“Okay,” I replied.

Before we went to the kitchen, I changed clothes. I hesitated, choosing leather. My fear of water was getting worse.

“Hold on,” Emma said. “Are you going out or something?”

We had clothes for home and clothes for going out.

“No,” I said. “I just haven’t worn these in a while.”

“They look big on you. Are you losing weight?”

“I’m cold. Do you have to ask so many questions?” I snapped.

Her questions irritated me. I was already anxious about being near water—now this?

“Forget it,” I said. “I’m not helping anymore.”

“Wait, I’m sorry, Amelia ” she said. “I was just asking.”

“Well, I’m done.”

She sighed, then handed me something warm to cover myself with.

“See? You never wanted to help in the first place,” she muttered. “I’m begging you to help and you act like this. I should tell Mama you had an abortion.”

I froze.

“What?”

“You heard me,” she said. “You’re filthy. You killed an innocent soul. You’re a murderer. And instead of telling me, your sister, you pretend you’re just 'sick'? You make me sick.”

“Emma, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me. You’re pretending. But I know. You killed a child. I was ready to help you, even cover for you with Mama. But you’re too far gone.”

Her words hit me like a slap.

I left her in the kitchen and ran to my room.

How could she say that? Where would she even hear something like that?

Is that what people are saying about me outside? That I had an abortion?

Even Emma believes it?

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking. My heart was crushed. My own twin thought I was a murderer. How could I defend myself against something I didn’t even understand?

Eventually, sleep took me. But I was startled awake by the sound of Mama’s voice in the kitchen—she had just gotten home.

I wasn’t in the right state to face Emma, let alone eat her food. I didn’t even want to see her.

The thoughts wouldn’t stop spinning in my head. I grabbed a book and tried to read, hoping maybe—just maybe—it would drown everything out for a little while.

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