Part 1Sisters of Scars

Other families have sister drama—the kind of love-hate dynamic that fuels reality TV. My sister and I? Pure, unadulterated hate.

I despised her for always being the golden child, acing every test, every competition, leaving me in her dust. She, in turn, loathed me for being the wild one, the troublemaker, yet always seeming to be our parents’ favorite. How deep did the hate run? We wished each other dead.

When she got into an Ivy League university, my parents poured all their savings into my art school application. That day, she actually held a kitchen knife to my throat. I shoved her back, hard, and she ended up in the ER. Afterward, she vanished from the hospital, never looking back. Years later, when my marriage imploded and domestic violence landed me in the hospital, I found my attending physician was her.

* * *

"Skylar Hayes, are you trying to ruin my life?!"

Autumn Hayes burst into my room, a gleaming chef’s knife clutched in her hand. Mom and Dad stumbled in behind her, their faces etched with panic. Autumn clamped my arm, pressing the blade against my throat. I felt the cold, sharp edge pierce my skin, a thin line of pain blooming there. Her hand trembled as she screamed, a raw, desperate sound, at Mom and Dad across the room.

"How dare you tell me I can’t go to school, giving all our money to her?!"

Dad’s brow furrowed, his voice rising to match hers. "Nobody said you can't go to school! You're smart, you can retake the SATs, apply again next year! Are you even listening to yourself? Have you no respect for your father?"

Mom frantically tried to pull Dad’s arm away, tears streaming down her face. "Autumn, honey, how can you call your sister useless? Please, Mom’s begging you, Skylar’s art school spot… it took so many favors to get. If she doesn’t go now, Professor Davies' class will be full."

Professor Davies. The renowned art professor at the Mather Institute of Art. A guaranteed path to a prestigious career, if you got into his class.

"Autumn, please be understanding this once. Let your sister use the money for tuition. Just two years, sweetheart. We promise, we’ll save up enough for your university tuition, okay? Just two more years."

The warm trickle of blood on my neck intensified, the pain sharper. Autumn was serious this time. She tugged me towards the window, her voice chilling. "What else would you call her? Useless?"

She let out a bitter laugh, her gaze fixed on our parents. "Why do I always have to give in to her? Why, since we were kids, has she always been your priority?"

"When I was little, I could’ve skipped a grade, but you insisted Skylar was too wild to be alone in kindergarten. So I stayed with her for another two years because she 'couldn’t keep up' in first grade."

"You always made us go to the same schools, the same classes, saying I could tutor her. But I’m two years older! If it wasn't for her, I’d be in college already!"

"Every time Skylar struggled, you made me hold back with her. Haven’t I been 'understanding' enough?"

"Now she’s failing out and needs to go to art school, and I have to sacrifice another year for her?"

"What are you complaining about with your sister?!" Dad roared, slamming something onto the floor. "I’ve given you everything, spoiled you both, and this is the selfish, ungrateful daughter you've become?"

That ignited Autumn completely. All her pent-up resentment poured out. "You never think you’re wrong. You never see how unbelievably biased you are!"

Dad pointed at her, his face a mask of disbelief and fury. "Who gave you the right to accuse your parents of wrongdoing?"