I opened the door, and my world split in two. My twin stood there shaking, her face swallowed by bruises. “He said no one would believe me,” she whispered. That was the moment something inside me snapped. So we switched places. When he grabbed my arm and hissed, “You’re not leaving me again,” he had no idea who he was touching. By morning, he’d learn the truth—but the last thing he saw still haunts me.
I opened the door, and for a second I thought I was looking into a mirror from a nightmare. My twin sister, Emma, stood on my porch in the cold October rain, one arm wrapped around herself, the other clutching her purse so hard her knuckles looked white. Her left eye was purple. Her lip…