“Some of it,” I said.

“I don’t want any of it,” she said.

She grabbed the gold necklace around her throat, the one our parents gave her for our birthday.

She yanked it.

The thin chain snapped, and the gold pendant fell into the grass.

I watched it disappear into the green blades.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

She looked at me as if I had the answers.

For eighteen years, she had been the leader, the popular twin.

I had been the shadow in the upstairs bedroom.

Now, she looked like a child lost in a supermarket.

“You do what you want, Chloe,” I said.

I looked toward the house.

The lights inside were bright, illuminating the empty rooms.

The grand piano sat in the corner of the living room, purchased with my skin.

The paintings on the walls, the marble countertops, the leather sofas.

They were all paid for with the silence of my pain.

“I’m going inside,” I said.

“Maya, wait,” Chloe said, reaching for my hand.

I let her hand slip away.

I felt a strange lightness in my chest.