AMARA'S POV
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She's not my sister.
She never was.
I don't know what's worse — the glowing mark on her back… or the fact that my parents looked at it like they'd seen it before.
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I stood in that hallway after Selena collapsed.
She was trembling, sweating, rambling nonsense.
And they didn't panic.
They just… stared.
> "We didn't think it would come this soon," my mother whispered.
Come what soon?
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Now she's in her room. Door locked. Lights off.
And my parents won't talk to me.
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I sneak into their room later, searching.
I know what I saw. I know what she is. Something wrong. Something dangerous.
And then I find it.
A small wooden box under the bed. Inside — a scroll written in a language I've never seen before. And a photo.
Selena.
As a baby.
But not here. Not in this house.
She's wrapped in dark velvet. There's a mark already glowing on her shoulder.
> She didn't grow it.
She was born with it.
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Suddenly everything snaps. All the love I pretended to have? It curdles.
> She's not just different.
She's not just adopted.
She's special. And I'm not.
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And if she's not careful…
She'll regret that.
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> Secrets in the dark. Sisters at war.
The blood is speaking — and Amara is listening.
— Mysterious_frnd