Part 1The Utter Ruin of My Unwanted Sister

The latest It Girl actress had a major scandal break – caught cheating. Career: imploding. But my mother? She was trying to pressure me into taking the fall.

"You're the older sister. You have to help your little sister out."

I agreed. On one condition: we cut ties. Officially. Done.

The day my reputation was trashed and I left Hollywood, my dear sister hired someone to run me down. I ended up a vegetable.

Later, my own mother pulled my oxygen plug.

"Only the dead can keep secrets forever," she whispered.

Somehow, miraculously, I survived.

Now, I’m back. My oh-so-precious baby sister is bragging to me about landing an audition for a movie by the hot new screenwriter.

"Candace," she sneered, "you'll never be better than me."

I smiled, reached over to the judges' table, and flipped my nameplate forward.

"Hi," I said. "I'm the screenwriter. Candace Shaw. You might know me as Ashwood."

* * *

"Your sister is getting absolutely roasted online, and you actually have the nerve to sit here eating?"

I stared blankly from the living room couch as my mother paced, radiating pure, impotent rage.

"She's her, I'm me. Why should I care if she's getting dragged?"

I calmly reached for another potato chip.

The crunch seemed to hit a nerve.

She lunged, slapping the entire bag out of my hand, scattering chips everywhere.

"Stop eating!"

I watched her, cold-eyed, as she frantically paced back and forth.

"Candace, you have to think of something!"

"Like what?" She brought this on herself.

I managed to bite back the last part.

My phone buzzed twice. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zoey Vance’s name flash on the caller ID.

My mother snatched the phone, exchanged a few brief, hushed words, and quickly hung up.

She looked at me, hesitation warring with desperation on her face.

"Candace, maybe… maybe you could cover for your sister?

"Just say… say you were the one meeting that guy!"

Her eyes lit up, like a predator spotting easy prey.

My first reaction was numbness – I was used to this. Then, I almost laughed out loud from the sheer audacity.

No doubt Zoey had called, crying her eyes out, and then "casually" mentioned how her big sister could save the day.

She'd pulled this stunt before.

"No way."

My mother got frantic, pulling me up from the couch.

"You're her older sister! Sisters are supposed to help each other!"

I scoffed. "Let me ask you something. Do you even realize she was messing with someone else's relationship? If I take the fall, I'll be labeled a homewrecker."

Her eyes darted away. Of course, she knew.

She just didn't care what happened to me.

I closed my eyes.

"Oh, right. I forgot. You don't think 'homewrecker' is such a disgusting label."

A humorless smile stretched across my face. "After all, you divorced Dad, and three years later, my 'half-sister' was born… somehow only a year younger than me…"

My mother flushed, unable to meet my gaze.

"You did it, she did it. Guess it runs in the family!" I added, emphasizing every word.

SLAP. The sting on my cheek was painfully familiar.

"Shut your mouth!" Mom shrieked. "You're going to help her, whether you want to or not!"

I touched the red mark blooming on my face. No surprise there. You get hit enough, your skin thickens up.

Did she really think I was still that little kid who’d cave under pressure?

Her shadow couldn't block my light anymore.

We stood in a tense stalemate. Finally, Mom fumbled with her phone, her fingers trembling.

"Candace, look at what they're saying online, the things they're calling her… it's disgusting. Don't you feel sorry for her? Remember when you were little…"

"Stop! Just stop!"

I threw open the front door.

"I'm tired, Mom. You should go home. As for Zoey, her agency has a whole PR team to handle this mess."

"Candace!"

I turned back. My mother crumpled to the floor, right there on the doorstep.

"Please, Mom's begging you… just save her one more time…"

"I said, GET OUT!"

I remained unmoved. She actually started crawling towards me, grabbing at my pants leg.

"If Zoey makes it big, she won't forget you, her sister."

"And your husband," she added desperately, "he'll remember what you did, too."

I let out a sharp laugh. "Do you actually believe that?"

It was morning rush hour. People were walking by, glancing curiously at the unfolding drama on my doorstep.

I looked down.

This was what I hated most about her. She never left me an escape route when she schemed. Trying to play the sympathy card while simultaneously laying on the guilt trip.

She wanted to test my loyalty, my affection for her.

But when you test how hard glass is, you're destined to shatter it.

"Candace, you're not as famous as Zoey. This won't really hurt you," my own mother murmured, trying to lure me into the abyss.

"Fine," I said softly. "I'll do it."

Mom scrambled up from the floor instantly.

I pulled out a document.

"Sign this. It says I'm severing all ties with you and your family. Then I'll cover for Zoey."

She snatched the pen and signed immediately, terrified I'd change my mind.

I knew this "agreement" wouldn't hold up legally.

But watching her sign it so eagerly, that was the moment the last thread connecting us finally snapped inside me.

From the second I saw Zoey’s scandal break, I knew Mom would try to use me.

And this document, finally, could come out.

I picked up the dropped bag of chips from the floor and sighed.

"Well," I muttered to the crushed chips, "at least you died for a cause."