Prologue
On my first birthday after being reclaimed by my birth parents and brought into the James family, I spent fifty cents on a slice of cake scraps for myself.
After I donated bone marrow to my younger sister, Aileen James, the pain never left me.
I made one last wish by the light of a single candle. Then the agony tore through me again, bone-deep and blinding. I curled up against the corner of the table to wait it out, and I never woke up.
When my pulse stopped, the room went dark.
Mom came through the door holding Aileen's hand.
She spotted me crumpled against the table leg. Her brow furrowed, and the joy on her face curdled into a thin layer of anger. She didn't scold me, though. She just set the three-tiered cake she was carrying down on the table.
That was Aileen's birthday cake.
"Is there no bed in this house? Lying on the floor like that—what do you look like? Get back to your room."
Aileen bit her lip, her eyes rimming red. "Mom, don't yell at her. She's always resented me for stealing you and Dad away from her. Maybe I should just... leave."
Mom pulled her into her arms, stroking her hair, murmuring comfort.
"Ally, you will always be our most loved child. Don't ever say that again. This is all Eudora James's fault. She's just petty."
I lay curled on the cold floor, the sound of her deep, tender love for another child and her curses at me ringing in my ears.
A week later, every last pretense was shattered.
...
I was still slumped against the table, a smear of frosting on the corner of my mouth.
The gentle way Mom comforted Aileen—it was as if Aileen were her biological daughter.
But when she glanced back and noticed the cake scraps, her expression darkened instantly, like she'd spotted something filthy.
Those scraps were the birthday cake I'd bought for myself. The only one I could afford.
She muttered under her breath, "What a waste. Spending money on garbage even a dog wouldn't touch."
But when her gaze happened to fall on me, curled up against the table, something flickered across her chest—a faint, barely perceptible ache.
Without thinking, she slowly loosened her arm from around Aileen. She took one step toward me. Then another.
She bent down slightly, reaching to help me up.
But just then, Aileen let out a soft, choked sob.
Mom hesitated. Then she turned on her heel and hurried back to Aileen's side.
She wiped the tears from Aileen's face with gentle fingers.
"Ally, what's wrong?"
"Can you tell me?"
I drifted nearby, listening to their conversation. The ache threaded through my bones again, sharp as needles.
Then Aileen's gaze suddenly shifted toward where I was.
She pressed her face into Mom's shoulder, her voice thick with tears:
"Mom, she's glaring at me! I'm so scared!"
I listened in silence as she sobbed about things I had never done.
Aileen's eyes brimmed with tears, her body trembling, the picture of a girl too timid to speak up.
"Mom, I'm a little cold... could I wear your jacket? I'm afraid she'll get angry. She doesn't let me wear her mother's clothes."
Mom turned immediately and went to the bedroom to get her jacket.
The room emptied to just the two of us.
Aileen glanced at me, slumped against the table. The corner of her mouth curled upward. She turned and picked up the cake from the table.
The next second, she hurled it to the floor. Because she and I shared the same birthday.
Then she lifted her foot and ground it down, hard.
That still wasn't enough.
She raised her hand and rapped her knuckles against the wall, her eyes cold and calculating as they flicked toward me. Then, with a sharp crack, she slammed her forehead into the wall.
Bright red blood streaked down from her hairline, dripping onto the floor one drop at a time.
"No! Stop!"
She screamed, crumpled to the ground, and pressed both hands tight against her forehead.
