Chapter 1
I saw my baby brother get switched at birth,
and I didn’t do a damn thing.
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Because last time around, I’d nearly gotten
myself killed trying to keep him. And all that got
me was my face sliced open by some psycho,
and my brother falling for some scholarship
case.
Then, to make sure his precious little girlfriend
got the only spot to get into college early, my
brother drove a car straight into me.
“Sis, don’t blame me,” he’d spat, all twisted up
with hatred. “Blame yourself for being such a
tightwad, not giving up that early admission for
Amy.”
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He even had the nerve to taunt me. “You’re a
freakin‘ monster, and you deserved that scar.
You got what you had coming.”
This time, I’m keeping my hands clean. I’ll watch
the whole damn thing go down and not bat an
eye when my brother gets swapped.
- 1.
A baby’s screaming is what dragged me back to
the world.
I blinked, realizing I was sprawled on a hospital
bed, my mom asleep next to me, all worn out
after having my new brother.
It hit me like a ton of bricks – I’d been thrown
back to the day the psycho was gonna switch
my baby bro.
Just to be sure, I glanced at the crying bundle,
and sure enough, there he was. The creep was
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7:05
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sliding the gold bracelet off my brother’s wrist,
fumbling with it onto his own kid’s arm.
The baby wailed even louder, and the guy, all
twitchy and impatient, backhanded my baby
brother and knocked him out cold.
Then, he got that feeling like he was being
watched and glanced my way.
I snapped my eyes shut, acting like I was still
out cold.
Last time, I’d fought like a wildcat, all three
years of me, hanging onto that creep’s leg,
trying to stop him from taking my brother.
He’d kicked me so hard I hit the wall and broke
a couple of ribs.
I’d screamed my lungs out, and some nurses
finally came running.
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7:05
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That lowlife, pissed I ruined his plans, had
pulled a knife and cut my face to ribbons.
“You screwed up my kid’s chance at a good life, so you ain’t gonna have one either,” he’d said.
After that, I was scarred for life and sick for forever, and I didn’t even start first grade with my brother until I was like, nine.
School was pure hell, everyone either laughing
at me or just plain staring. Even my folks and my brother looked at me like I was some kind of embarrassment.
I buried myself in books, hoping to get into college, get a good job, and leave them all in
the dust and start over.
But then, senior year rolled around, and I finally got the one early admission spot. My own brother, the little jerk, had no problem running
<
me over with a car to get that spot for his
scholarship girlfriend.
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He’d looked down at me, with eyes full of hate.
“Sis, don’t blame me,” he’d said. “Blame
yourself for being such a tightwad, not giving up that early admission for Amy.”
