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So much so that you would become so used to carrying your fake weary bones around that you don’t even feel the load of them anymore.

In the end, you were a dead weight walking.

Right now,Iwas that dead weight, lost and confused.

And the thing about fakers like me was that at the brink of an ultimatum, they would only slip and fall back into the same path again.

And that was exactly what I did.

I slipped and fell into the same cycle again.

CHAPTER 1

PAST

KATY

Age 8

“Katy, come stand here in the middle, honey.” My mom’s soft voice beckoned me, but I was too busy licking the chocolate off my fingers.

I loved chocolate cupcakes.

They were yummy and they made me feel happy.

And Mom told me I should always do whatever made me feel happy.

So here I was, having my third cupcake.

“Katy, come on, honey,” Mom groaned, gesturing to me. “You can have your cupcake later.”

“Fine,” I muttered, setting them aside as I hurried to stand beside Matty, whose pinched eyes were locked on the floor.

It hurt knowing my twin was hurting on the inside. I didn’t know what was really wrong with him, but Mom said he was sick, and that made him a bit rowdy at times. He liked to run off in the middle of conversations and scream when the sounds got too loud.

I knew he was on the brink of running away with the way he was fidgeting with his tiny bow tie that Dad made him wear. The pretty blue color of it matched my pressed frilly dress.

Our entire family was dressed smart today because we were taking a family picture.

“Matty,” I whispered, leaning closer to my brother as I held out a pinkie. “You’ll be fine.”

He nodded, closing his fist around it. Even though he was my twin, born just minutes before me, his hands were bigger, and he was taller than me already. It just wasn’t fair.

Not even a second passed when I noticed some of the frustration leave his eyes. My heart flared with relief. I knew holding my hand would calm him down.

“Katy, now look here,” Mom said, pointing the video camera at my face. “Today is Katy’s first day of third grade. Tell me baby, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

I smiled proudly at the camera. “I want to be a mom and be the best wife to the love of my life and have lots and lots of children,” I said truthfully. “Oh, also knit my babies cute sweaters.”

My mother’s face turned red while Dad laughed, and Matty gave me a weird look.

“Katy, you can’t say things like that!” Mom scolded while Dad consoled her.

What did I do wrong? Was there something wrong with me wanting those things? We could be anything we wanted when we grew up, right? If so, then what was so bad about me wanting to be a mother?

I was still confused by my mother’s outburst when she turned her question to Matty and he thought for a long moment before he shrugged saying he didn’t know, which made Mom heave out a sigh.

After our videos, Mom and Dad positioned us in different poses while a photographer with a huge mustache captured a dozen pictures of us, and the entire time I never let go of my brother’s hand.