Chapter 1

I was born with a shadow.

It wasn't mine; it belonged to my twin sister, who died shortly after birth.

To appease it, my parents forced me from a young age to wear dresses I hated and speak in a soft, delicate voice.

To make it happy, the night before my most important piano competition, they locked my door and made me listen to terrifying stories in the dark all night.

To fulfill its wishes, on my eighteenth birthday, they destroyed all my college acceptance letters and sent me to a strict boarding dance academy.

Until I married my psychologist, Dr. Alistair Vance. He gently told me I would get better.

That day, he held my latest brain scan, the love in his eyes almost melting me.

He softly caressed the large shadow on the film and smiled at me.

"Sweetie, your brain is nourishing it beautifully. It will soon fully occupy this body."

"Then, you can peacefully join your sister."

Dr. Alistair Vance's voice was soft, but every word felt like a poison-tipped needle, piercing deep into my heart.

Those eyes, which I once adored, were now filled with a sickening expectation.

My stomach churned violently.

"You're joking, right?"

I finally managed to squeeze out a question, needing to confirm it again.

Alistair didn't answer directly. Instead, he carefully tucked the CT scan back into the manila envelope.

Then, he walked over to me, crouched down, and looked me directly in the eye.

"This is not a joke."

"This is our shared anticipation, your parents' wish for over twenty years, and a testament to my love."

An icy dread shot up from my feet to the crown of my head.

Alistair reached out, intending to touch my cheek.

I flinched back sharply, avoiding his touch.

His hand froze mid-air, the smile vanishing from his face.

"Sweetie, don't be scared."

"This process won't be painful at all. Afterward, you'll go to a place without pain, to be reunited with your sister."

He spoke so casually, so matter-of-factly, as if he were discussing something trivial that happened every day.

All his years of meticulous care for me.

It was all a lie.

"No..."

My legs felt like jelly, numb and weak.

But I couldn't show it now.

Because here, in front of him, I was no match.

I lowered my head, feigning submission.

"I... I'm just a little scared."

Hearing the slight softening in my tone, Alistair's voice immediately turned gentle.

He sat beside me and pulled me into his arms.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here with you."

He picked up a glass of warm milk from the bedside table and held it to my lips.

"It's getting late. Drink some milk and get some rest."

Looking at the white liquid near his lips, I felt a wave of nausea.

But I could only obey.

"Okay."

A sickeningly sweet, cloying warmth slid down my throat, and Alistair smiled, satisfied.

He took the empty glass from my hand and left a goodnight kiss on my forehead.

"Alright, go to sleep now."

"Goodnight."

The moment he left, I bolted straight to the bathroom, knelt before the toilet, and forced myself to throw up.

Only when my stomach was completely empty did I collapse, exhausted, onto the cold tile floor.

I looked at myself in the mirror, pale-faced, hair disheveled.

Suddenly, a chilling thought crept into my mind.

I had lost. I had been utterly defeated from the moment I was born.

But I absolutely refused to accept this fate.