Part 1The Twin Who Died Twice

My parents spent hundreds of thousands throwing a birthday party at a hotel for my twin sister, Kinsley.

Meanwhile, I was working there as a waitress.

After five years apart, when they saw me, their faces instantly darkened.

But they didn't want anything to do with me.

That is, until they saw me kneeling on the ground, licking up food scraps for a thousand-dollar tip. Mom immediately stepped forward to scold me:

"Colleen! I think you've gone crazy for money—you'll do anything!"

"If you want money, just say so! Why put on this show and humiliate us on purpose?"

I knelt there in embarrassment, head down, saying nothing.

Yes, I really would do anything for money.

Because without that thousand dollars, I was going to die.

Mocking voices surrounded me, everyone waiting to see what I'd do.

A thousand dollars really wasn't much—not even enough to buy a pair of socks for anyone here.

But to me, it was everything.

Kinsley stood nearby with my parents, but they didn't stop it.

Because they thought it was embarrassing.

But when they actually saw me kneel down and lower my head to lick the floor, my parents finally couldn't take it anymore.

"Enough!"

The laughter stopped.

I froze, then numbly raised my head.

Some inexplicable hope stirred in my heart.

I saw Kinsley standing between my parents in a haute couture gown, looking like a little princess.

Dad's eyes were red with fury as he said:

"Colleen! You know today is Kinsley's birthday party—why can't you stop causing trouble even after all these years!"

"You've made your mother sick with anger! Stop performing—even if you swallow glass, we won't forgive you!"

Almost everyone here knew our family's situation.

They all turned to look at me with condemnation.

I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. "I haven't done anything wrong. I don't need your forgiveness."

The bite of food I'd just eaten contained shards of glass that had rolled into my mouth.

When I spoke, my mouth was full of the taste of blood.

But compared to everything else, this pain was nothing.

"You!" Even Mom, who'd been silent, stepped forward angrily.

Kinsley wiped away tears pitifully:

"Colleen, after all the terrible things you did back then, after you pushed Mom down the stairs and left her with permanent health problems..."

"Don't you feel any guilt at all? And now you're here to ruin my birthday..."

Seeing his daughter's distress and his wife's pale face, Dad stepped forward.

He slapped me hard across the face.

Pain shot through me as I fell into the broken glass, blood flowing freely.

"After all these years! You still haven't learned!"

Through my dizziness, I looked past Dad.

That face identical to mine was watching me with mockery.

Even five years later, I remained amazed by Kinsley's acting skills.

But I really had nothing to feel guilty about.

Not because I was cold-blooded.

But because I wasn't actually Colleen at all!

The Mitchell family had twin daughters.

The older sister, Kinsley, was quiet and refined. The younger, Colleen, was rebellious and notorious.

Five years ago, my name was still Kinsley.

Colleen was naturally rebellious and unmanageable.

She bullied classmates at school, had terrible grades, and dabbled in smoking and drinking.

Our parents worried constantly about her.

I'd been obedient and sensible since childhood, so I didn't want to add to their troubles. I worked hard at everything, but became invisible at home.

Mom hired expensive tutors for Colleen, while I, with my good grades, naturally didn't need any.

Dad personally drove Colleen to and from school every day, while I only had a driver, year-round.

When Colleen wanted desserts, they'd wait in line all night, but they'd just transfer money to me and tell me to figure out my own dinner.

Even the room I'd lived in since childhood was taken away because Colleen took a liking to it.

Mom said: "Colleen says if she switches rooms, she'll straighten up. You know how exhausting it is for Mom to deal with her."

"You've always been so understanding—you get it, right?"

I only remember how warm Mom's hand felt on mine at that moment.

So I nodded without thinking.

But Colleen didn't straighten up. Instead, she got worse.

Until one day, my parents caught her stealing Grandma's heirloom that she'd left to Mom.

Colleen had sold it for cash and secretly gone to a bar. The heirloom was lost, impossible to recover.

My parents were furious and even hit Colleen.

In a fit of rage, Colleen actually pushed Mom down the stairs!

Amid the chaos, Mom lay in a pool of blood.

Realizing what she'd done, Colleen panicked for the first time. She ran away.

I didn't realize then that this would be the beginning of my descent into hell.

Otherwise, I wouldn't have run out to find her, only to be knocked unconscious with a single hit.

When I woke up again, our identities had been switched.

She'd cut my long hair and styled hers to match mine.

By the time I got back to the hospital, Colleen was already at Mom's bedside.

"Dad..."

As soon as I approached, Dad kicked me to the ground.

Intense pain washed over me.

"Colleen, you dare come back! Look what you've done!" Dad's eyes were bloodshot, trembling with rage.

"After raising you all these years, this is how you repay us? Do you know that because of you, your mother will have to take medication for the rest of her life?"

I'm not! I'm not Colleen!

But no matter how I explained, he wouldn't listen.

He just thought I was making excuses.

I even knelt at his feet, begging him to really look at me.

But in the end, I was mercilessly dragged out of the hospital room.

"Starting today, I'm cutting all ties with you, Colleen!"

"From now on, whether you live or die has nothing to do with us!"

No matter how much I cried out, no one listened. Finally, security dragged me out.

As I struggled, I saw Mom wake up.

Colleen was obediently giving her water, imitating how I used to act.

"Mom has wronged you all these years, Kinsley."

Mom held Colleen's hand, weak but affectionate.

But the real Kinsley had already been thrown out of the hospital.