The school gates loomed ahead like a distant memory. Amara—or rather, Adelaide—paused just before entering, feeling the weight of the change press down on her. The world outside seemed so different, but the reflection in the glass was still unmistakably her sister's. For the first time, her shoes clicked with the kind of confidence that had once been so foreign to her. It wasn't her walk, but Adelaide's.
"Remember who you are," her father's words echoed in her mind, a final command before she crossed the threshold of her new life. She inhaled deeply, pushing aside the wave of doubt that threatened to overwhelm her.
She was Adelaide now. No one could ever know the truth.
Adelaide's car was parked in the lot, a sleek, well-maintained vehicle that she'd once been too nervous to drive. Amara swallowed back the nervousness that rose as she stepped into the familiar parking lot. This was where Adelaide belonged. The memory of her sister's effortless grace, her radiant smile that had drawn everyone to her, hovered in the air like a curse.
A group of students lingered near the entrance, chatting and laughing. They turned as one when they saw her approach, their eyes wide with surprise and curiosity. It was strange—she had seen them all at some point in Adelaide's life, but now, they were strangers, faces that only existed in the context of her sister's world.
"Adelaide! You're back!" a girl called out, her voice light with excitement.
Amara—or rather, Adelaide—flashed a smile, the one her parents had drilled into her. It was soft, approachable but distant, just as her mother had instructed.
"Hey, Claire," she replied, her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest.
Claire, a familiar face, stepped closer, her eyes scanning Amara's features for any signs of change. "You've been gone so long… how are you holding up?"
For a moment, Amara froze. Her mind raced. How could she answer? The truth was too dangerous. Her gaze flickered briefly to the ground, then back up, meeting Claire's eyes with a confidence she didn't feel.
"I'm okay. Just... focusing on getting back into things," she said softly, hoping it sounded convincing.
The group of students exchanged uncertain glances, but Claire simply smiled. "Good. We missed you around here."
The word "missed" stung, but Amara forced it away. She was Adelaide. There was no room for weakness. No room for anything other than what her parents had made her.
As the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the school day, the students began to disperse, all heading toward their classes. Amara walked along with them, her heart pounding in her chest, every step echoing with a hollow sense of unreality. She had done this for years, yet now everything felt strange. This wasn't her world anymore.
When she arrived at her first class, the door opened with a familiar squeak, and the room fell silent. A few heads turned, then whispered behind their hands. She stood there for a moment, waiting for the inevitable.
"Adelaide," a voice called from the back of the room.
Amara turned to find Ethan, Adelaide's former friend—or perhaps more accurately, her former rival. Ethan's eyes locked onto hers, his gaze sharp and calculating. The tension in the air was palpable. He didn't smile. He didn't greet her with the same warmth the others did. Instead, his expression remained cold, unreadable.
"Ethan," she said evenly, forcing herself to meet his gaze. The name felt unfamiliar on her lips, and she almost faltered, but she steadied herself. This was part of the act. She was Adelaide now, and nothing about this was real.
Ethan didn't respond immediately. He glanced around the room, his lips curling into a half-smirk, but the amusement didn't quite reach his eyes. His cold stare lingered for a second longer before he turned away, saying nothing more. There was tension in the way he held himself, but Amara didn't have the luxury of understanding it.
"You've been gone for so long," he muttered, barely audible. "Did you miss all the drama while you were away?"
Amara forced a smile, but the words didn't come easily. "I've been... busy," she said, her voice soft and controlled, but the weight of his stare made her stomach twist.
He didn't acknowledge her response further. The silence between them was thick, and it wasn't comfortable. It was just a quiet standoff, and it didn't matter. She wasn't Adelaide anymore—not in the way Ethan remembered her, not in the way he had always seen her.
As the class started, Amara sank into a desk, trying her best to ignore the tension that pulsed between her and Ethan. It didn't matter what he thought. He wasn't going to change who she was or what she had to become.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Each class was a series of small interactions, the same rehearsed smiles, the practiced postures. Her teachers welcomed her back as though everything were normal, as though nothing had ever changed. It was surreal.
But it wasn't all as easy as her parents had promised.
Lunchtime arrived, and as she entered the cafeteria, a strange feeling settled in her chest. She knew she would find her place, her spot at the center of attention, surrounded by friends who had missed her. Yet, as she walked across the room, she felt as though she were watching someone else's life unfold.
"Adelaide!" a voice called from behind.
She turned to find Lucas, Adelaide's boyfriend, walking toward her. He was tall, with dark hair and a confident smile that bordered on cocky. His eyes softened when they met hers, a warmth that made her uncomfortable. This was the man who had been a part of Adelaide's life for so long. He was now a part of hers, too, but there was something unsettling about the way he looked at her.
"Lucas," she said, forcing a smile.
He stopped in front of her, tilting his head slightly, studying her as if trying to figure out a puzzle. "You look... different," he said, his voice light but searching. "Everything okay?"
She nodded, her smile never faltering. "I'm fine. Just... settling back in."
Lucas didn't seem entirely convinced, but he shrugged, glancing at the empty seat next to hers. "Mind if I sit?"
Amara hesitated for only a second, then nodded. This was part of the routine. He was her boyfriend. She had to play the part.
As he sat down, a quiet unease settled over her. She wasn't sure why, but something about him felt like a reminder of everything she couldn't escape. He was too close to the real Adelaide, too connected to the past she couldn't touch.
He smiled again, this time with more warmth. "It's good to have you back, Adelaide."
But Amara could feel the hollow space between them. She wasn't really Adelaide, no matter how hard she tried. And soon enough, someone would figure that out.
As they ate, Lucas continued talking, his voice soothing, but the words felt distant. Amara couldn't quite grasp them, like echoes bouncing off a wall. She wasn't part of this life anymore. She wasn't part of this world, no matter how much Lucas tried to make it feel like she was.
"So, what's been keeping you busy?" Lucas asked casually, taking a bite of his sandwich. He leaned in slightly, his face close to hers, as though seeking some hidden answer that she wasn't ready to give.
Amara opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come. She didn't know what to say. She didn't have Adelaide's memories. She had only her own, which were fractured and foreign in this context.
"I've just been... figuring things out," she said, unsure if the words were enough.
Lucas seemed to take it in stride. He continued to smile at her, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill that Amara felt in her chest. It was unsettling, the way he looked at her as though everything were the same.
But nothing was the same.
She forced another smile. "I'm glad to be back," she said, but the words felt wrong, like a lie being swallowed whole.
As Lucas continued to talk about their old friends, plans for the weekend, and other mundane details, Amara nodded along. It wasn't that she didn't care. It was that she couldn't feel a connection to any of it. There was a wall between her and the life that was supposed to be hers.
She wasn't Adelaide. And she wasn't sure how long she could keep pretending to be.
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