Zuri didn't go home after school.
She walked.
Past the corner store.
Past the church with the peeling white paint.
Past the bus stop where she used to wait for rides that never came.
Her feet knew where to go even if her heart didn't.
When she stood in front of the little blue house on Emerson Street, she stopped on the sidewalk, clutching the folded photo in her pocket as though it would burn her skin.
Inside, her mother would be stirring a pot of soup.
Pretending everything was fine.
Pretending the world had not just tilted.
Zuri walked up to the front door.
She did not knock.
She entered.
Her mother was in the kitchen, just as she'd expected.
The TV was playing low in the background some drama she always fell asleep to. The smell of okra and spice filled the air. It should've been comforting.
It wasn't.
"Mom," Zuri said quietly.
Her mother turned.
Smiled.
Too quickly.
"Hey, baby. You're home early"
Zuri held up the photo.
Silence.
The smile dropped.
Zuri didn't say anything. Just waited.
Her mother stared at the picture like it was a ghost.
She didn't reach for it.
She didn't deny it.
She just… sighed.
Sat down at the small dining table.
And finally whispered, "You found her."
"You lied to me," Zuri said, voice trembling. "My whole life."
Her mother didn't defend herself.
Didn't cry.
She just nodded, slowly.
"I didn't know how to tell you," she said. "I thought… maybe if I never said anything, it would disappear. I was trying to keep you safe."
"From what?" Zuri asked. "From her? From me knowing that I wasn't… whole?"
Her mother closed her eyes.
"You don't know the kind of people they were. The Daltons. They paid to take one of you. To raise her like royalty. They paid me enough money to vanish."
Zuri's breath hitched.
"They bought her?"
"No," her mother said softly. "They bought you both. But I only gave them one."
The words stole the air from Zuri's lungs.
"Did you choose?" she whispered. "You chose her to live that life, and me to live this?"
"I chose you because I did not want to lose both of you."
Her mother's voice cracked.
They were cold, Zuri. Cold in a way that you can't even imagine. They would've erased me. Erased every bit of where you came from. So I made a deal. I kept you. But it meant leaving your sister behind forever."
Zuri couldn't breathe.
She wanted to scream.
To cry.
To run.
But all she could manage to do was whisper:
"You should've told me."
"I know."
"I deserved to know who I was."
"I know.".
Zuri looked back at the photo again.
The red bracelet.
The gold one.
Two babies. One fate split in two.
And she realized something:
Aria hadn't ended her life.
They'd both been robbed from.
And now the only way to reclaim it was to face the truth.
Together.
That night, Zuri couldn't sleep.
She lay on her ceiling and thought about pearls, and polished fingernails, and sharp smiles hiding broken pieces.
And she realized:
Aria Dalton was just a mirror.
A reminder of what Zuri could've been.
Or still can.
The house was quiet.
Zuri sat on the edge of the couch, her hands clasped, the photo between them like evidence at a crime scene.
Her mother sat opposite her, staring into a cracked cup of tea she hadn't touched.
"I would wonder," Zuri said quietly. "Why I never looked like you. Why I always felt… pulled. Like another version of me existed somewhere else. Breathing my air. Living in my place."
Her mother swallowed.
"I didn't mean for you to feel that way."
"But I did," Zuri whispered. "All the time."
Her mother finally lifted her head. "I didn't choose her over you. I chose us over them. I thought if I clung to you, gave you love, gave you me, it would be enough. I didn't know the shadow would grow with you."
Zuri's voice dropped to a whisper. "I saw her, Mom. I saw my sister, and it's like… I've been looking at a broken mirror my whole life."
She leaned in for the picture again.
"She's not what I thought. She's cruel. She's flawless. She's scared. And underneath all that shine, I bet she's lonely too."
Her mother exhaled. "She would be. Being raised like that it takes a toll on you."
Zuri looked down at the red bracelet in the photo.
"I want to meet her," she said finally.
Her mother tensed up.
"I need to really know her. Not the rumor. Not the nasty comments or hallway glances. I need to know the girl I might've been if I was the one they took."
There was silence.
Her mother slowly nodded. "Then do it."
Zuri raised her head.
"Find her. And make your own truth."
Later that night, after her mother had gone to bed, Zuri was standing in front of the bathroom mirror brushing her hair.
She looked at her reflection the scar under her chin, the wild curl she could never tame, the eyes that always seemed to be concealing something.
She thought of Aria.
The perfect curls. The perfect lipstick. The frosty stare.
But now… Zuri saw more.
She saw someone just as lost.
Just as broken.
And maybe, just maybe, just as tired of pretending.
She picked up her phone.
Opened messages.
Typed:
"I think it's time we talk. No cameras. No audience. Just us."
She stared at it.
Hovered over send.
Then pressed it.
And for the first time since the fire started to burn, she felt… calm.
Because no matter what happened next, Zuri knew who she was now.
Not perfect.
Not whole.
But no longer half.
Zuri stood in the doorway of her bedroom long after the house had settled.
Her mom's confession boomed in her mind after the lightning flash.
"I kept you. But it meant leaving your sister behind forever."
She'd always thought being barred from Aria's life was the cruelty of fate.
Now she knew it had been a choice. A bargain struck in desperation.
She didn't know what hurt worse.
She reached beneath her bed and dragged out the shoebox the one she hadn't opened in over a year.
Inside were pieces of her: ripped-up notebooks, torn jewelry, a birthday card from her best friend in sixth grade, a photo of her and her mom when Zuri still had missing teeth and hope in her eyes.
At the bottom, she came across the small velvet ribbon that her mother would tie into her hair.
It was red.
Just like the bracelet in the photo.
Zuri held it up and stared.
For a moment, she imagined Aria sitting somewhere with her own gold bracelet, just as confused, just as wounded.
Two girls separated by a single decision.
Two lives split like glass.
Zuri whispered aloud, "I'm not just the one who was left behind."
Her voice didn't tremble.
"I'm the one who survived it."
And for the first time, she felt a strange sense of power rise in her chest.
Not anger.
Not pain.
Something clearer.
Purpose.
She checked her phone one more time.
Typed again:
"You and I have unfinished business, Aria. Let's settle it. Face to face."
This time she didn't hesitate before hitting send.
And with that, Zuri burrowed under the blanket, her brain wide awake and ablaze.
She had no clue how Aria would respond.
Had no clue what secrets came next.
But she wasn't afraid anymore.
Because whatever she discovered now it wouldn't destroy her.
It would finally complete her.