Chapter 3
“Savannah.” I matched her whisper, “you know what DNA testing is?“]
She froze.
“DNA proves bloodline. Doesn’t matter how many years you’ve played house here, doesn’t matter whose photos are on the walls–you’re still FAKE. Me?“[]
I pointed at myself.
“I don’t gotta DO jack shit to be real.“[]
Her face went white.[]
“Oh, and.” I grabbed my suitcase, “who said I was moving OUT? Just grabbing stuff from school. This is MY house. Why the hell would I leave?“[]
I hauled my case downstairs and crashed into Mason heading out.]
He spotted my luggage, face went dark: “Going where?“]
Stanford.”
“I’ll drive.“]
“I’m good.“]
“I SAID I’ll drive.” His tone meant business.[]
I shrugged. Whatever, dude.[]
Car ride was dead quiet.[]
I couldn’t be bothered making small talk.[]
Near campus, he finally spoke up: “About last night… don’t take it personal.“]
“Okay.”
e.“0
“Mom and Dad don’t hate you. Savannah really IS sick–she needs extra care.”
“Okay.”
“Can you say something OTHER than ‘okay?“[]
I looked at him: “What you want me to say? No problem, Mason, totally get it? I’ll take super good care of sister Savannah?”
He rubbed his temples: “Can’t you just act NORMAL?“]]
“What’s normal?”
“Crying on command and faking heart attacks–that’s normal?”
“Savannah’s NOT faking!“]}
I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out of my head
“You seriously gonna tell me you don’t know she’s full of shit?“[]
“Mason, are you actually this stupid or just pretending? Someone having a real heart attack can magically control the timing AND still look pretty while crying? You think that’s even POSSIBLE?”
He gripped the steering wheel tighter “You don’t know jack about Savannah.
“You’re right, I don 1” I hopped out
“But I know what real heart attacks look like. Foster mom’s sister had heart disease–when she had episodes, she’d turn blue and couldn’t even speak. Nothing like Savannah’s Oscar–worthy performances.
SLAMI
Chapter 3
I shut the door hard enough to rattle his teeth.]]
Mason sat there forever before finally driving off.[]
I actually hit Stanford to handle enrollment stuff.[]
That acceptance letter was my damn crown jewel.]]
After finishing paperwork, I swung by the bank.]
Two hundred K sitting in my account–years of grinding plus my writing income.[]
Yeah, I’m also a web novelist. Pen name? BitterSweet.]]
Write realistic heartbreak that makes people ugly–cry.[]
Readers always say my stuff hits too close to home, makes them wanna hug their phones.[]
They don’t know it’s all my actual life story.[]
es
As I was leaving, bank manager flagged me down: “Miss Whitmore, you have a new card here. Mr. Whitmore set up an account for you- this is
Mr. Whitmore? Dad?
I took the black card. The spending limit… eight figures.]]
Money talks.
But I had zero plans to touch it.[]
Got back to the Whitmore house right at lunch.[]
Dining table scene: Savannah posted up next to Mom, giggling like best girlfriends.[]
She spotted me and lit up: “Raven’s back! Come eat!”
“[
I sat down and clocked my seating arrangement–shoved way in the corner, miles from everyone else.[]
Plus my dishes were different. They got the fancy bone china, I got regular plates.]
Details tell the whole story, right?[]
“Raven,” Mom piped up, “next week’s Savannah’s birthday. We’re throwing this huge party–you should totally come!*]]
“My birthday’s next week too.” Just throwing that out there.[]
Air went thick real quick.]
Oh yeah–Savannah and I share the exact same birthday. That’s how the hospital screwed up originally.]]
Mom looked awkward as hell: “Well then… we’ll celebrate you both together.“[]
your
card.”
“No way,” Savannah jumped in, sweet as pie. “Raven just got here–she’d probably feel super weird at that kind of scene, Let’s just do mine, and we can do something quiet for Raven at home.”
Translation: big fancy parties are for ME, Savannah.[]
You, Raven Whitmore? Don’t rale.
Dad nodded along: “Savannah’s got a point. Raven shouldn’t be too visible yet.“[]
Mason agreed: “Yeah, Raven probably hates those kinds of things anyway.“[]
I dropped my fork: “You people are something else.“]
“Hult?” Mom looked lost.
“Savannah and 1. same exact birthday. You throw her this massive celebration, invite every rich family in the city, make sure EVERYONE knows she’s the Whitmore princess. And me?“]
stood up.
Chapter 3
“I get a quiet family dinner. You’re basically broadcasting to the whole world that the Whitmores only claim Savannah. Raven Whitmore, even though she’s actual blood, doesn’t deserve the spotlight.“[]
“You’re totally overthinking! That’s not what we-” Dad tried to backtrack.
“That’s EXACTLY what you meant.” I shut him down. “But whatever–I wouldn’t wanna crash your party anyway.“]
With that, I headed for the stairs.]
Behind me, Savannah’s waterworks started up again: “This is all MY fault! I don’t need a party–let’s do Raven’s instead…”
Then cue the comfort chorus.]
Same damn script every time.[]
ال Fi
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