Bling. Bling. Bling.
The alarm buzzed beside my bed, sharp and annoying. I groaned and buried my face deeper into the pillow, wishing I could steal just five more minutes.
"Adira! Wake up or you'll be late for school!" My mother's voice sliced through the door.
Of course. My alarm could beg for mercy all it wanted, but it was always my mother's voice that forced me out of bed.
I rubbed my eyes, dragging myself toward the bathroom, my sanctuary. The house was always too loud, too cold, but the bathroom was different. Safe. Private. The one place I could breathe. I'd cried against those walls more times than I could count, but I'd also danced, laughed, and sang until my chest hurt. In there, I wasn't the unwanted daughter. I was just... me.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was messy, my eyes half-closed, but at least the girl looking back at me still fought to smile. I brushed my teeth, let the warm water of the shower wash over me, and told myself today would be different. First day of my final year. A new start.
By the time I was dressed, I could already hear her again.
"Adira! My coffee!"
I hurried downstairs. If there was one thing she didn't complain about, it was the way I made her black coffee. Maybe because it was the only thing I did that was ever "good enough." I poured it carefully, added the faint swirl on top the way she liked, and carried it up to her room before she had the chance to call my name again.
When I came back down, I poured myself a bowl of cereal, eager to eat quickly and not be late. I'd barely lifted my spoon when Ashley swept in.
My twin. My mirror that didn't match.
"Morning—" I started, but her hand struck my bowl before the word was finished. Milk and flakes exploded across the floor.
"Bitch, you don't deserve food." She smirked, watching my breakfast drip down the table legs.
My stomach clenched. The familiar sting of humiliation burned at the back of my throat, but I forced a smile, forced calm. That's what I always did. "Ashley, you didn't have to"
"Shut up. Clean it before Mum sees. You know how she hates dirt." She flipped her hair and strutted away, pleased with herself.
I stared at the mess, the milk soaking into my skirt, my hunger curling into a knot of shame. What a perfect way to start my final year.
Just as I bent down, Lizzy our maid, though to me she was more like family touched my shoulder. "Leave it, my dear. I'll clean this. You'll be late."
I blinked at her, my chest loosening. Lizzy was one of the few who looked at me with kindness. The third person in this house who seemed to care, after Dad and Grandpa.
"Thanks, Aunty Lizzy." I kissed her cheek, grateful for the rescue. "I owe you one."
She smiled, and for a second, the heaviness in my chest lightened. I grabbed my bag, took one last breath, and ran out the door.