Chapter 8

Chapter 8

After work, I went to my mother’s house with dark circles under my eyes. It wasn’t far. Sensing my silence, my mother tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, haven’t you seen your sister lately?"

Her question only made me more upset. My sister—my biological sister.

Pretending to be casual, I replied, "She went abroad. You forgot? We haven’t seen her in five years."

"Oh, right! My memory’s getting so bad," she said.

Watching her hunched back, I remembered the day my sister and I had reunited. The weather had been overcast.

"Do you think we could be related?" she’d asked.

I’d stopped in my tracks. Even though I’d avoided her, we’d still run into each other. She’d been holding a copy of my blood type from the sanatorium’s records.

Later, we confirmed it: we were biological sisters. Separated at the orphanage, adopted by different families, we’d grown up in entirely different environments. My mother’s family was well-off, so I’d never suffered. Her mother had struggled, so she’d learned to make dough by the time she was ten.

"Why do two people who look the same have such different lives?" she’d sighed.

I’d stayed silent, unable to answer.

She was Luna Parker.

"What if we swapped souls?" she’d asked. "If I became you and you became me, would we swap our lives too?"

I’d stared at her serious expression, speechless.

Suddenly, she burst out laughing. "Look how scared you are! I’m just kidding. You like my husband, don’t you?"

I wasn’t good at lying. Faced with her sudden, accurate question, my reaction must have betrayed my unease.

"I’m dying," she’d said.

"What?" I’d asked, confused. Her face had been flushed, nothing like someone with a terminal illness.

Then, slowly, she’d lifted her hand and pulled off her wig, revealing her bald scalp.

I’d gasped, covering my mouth in shock.