Bloodline
The rain outside never seemed to stop. It tapped against the cracked window of the small room where Raine sat, her face pale in the dim light of a flickering lamp. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and stared down at the neat rows of notes she had been writing for hours. The air smelled faintly of ink and dust, but none of it could erase the bitterness inside her chest.
Silence filled the room. It was the kind of silence that suffocated rather than comforted.
Ray broke it first. He leaned lazily against the doorway, his dark hair falling into his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Still studying, Raine? You'll fry your brain if you keep pushing like that."
Raine didn't look up. "At least I'm doing something useful."
The words were colder than she meant, but she didn't take them back. She never did.
Ray scoffed and stepped further into the room. "Useful? Do you really think your little part-time job will save us? Do you think wearing yourself down is the answer?" His voice sharpened. "Face it, Raine. No one's coming to save us. Not Mom, not Dad. Not even that witch of an aunt."
At the mention of Aunt Cordelia, both twins fell silent. The memory of her voice—shrill and cruel—still burned in their minds.
"Six o'clock sharp!" she would scream, her voice cracking the air like a whip. "Any later and you'll regret it."
And they did regret it. They regretted every bruise, every insult, every night they sat in the dark, nursing wounds they couldn't show anyone. Cordelia had been their so-called guardian, but she was nothing more than a jailer in a crumbling home.
Raine's grip on her pen tightened until her knuckles turned white. "I study so I can leave this place. So I don't have to rely on anyone." Her voice was low, trembling with anger that she tried to hide. "I don't want to be like her."
Ray tilted his head, smirk fading. There was a shadow in his eyes, the kind that only someone broken could carry. "And what about me?"
The question lingered, heavy, but Raine didn't answer. She couldn't.
---
Backstory, Three Years Ago
They were twelve when their parents divorced. Two signatures, a slammed door, and just like that, their family ceased to exist. Raine remembered crying quietly under her blanket, telling herself it was a nightmare, that someone would come back for them. But no one did.
Ray remembered the silence differently. He didn't cry—he raged. He tore apart his toys, schoolbooks, anything to fill the void left behind. And when Cordelia took them in, her cruelty only hardened him further.
Over time, the twins drifted apart. Raine buried herself in books, chasing grades and jobs like lifelines. Ray sank deeper into rebellion, laughing at rules, mocking authority, building walls of arrogance around his wounded heart.
But no matter how far apart they grew, they were still bound together—two halves of the same fracture.
---
Present Day
The news broadcast flickered on the television in the corner of the room. Raine's eyes caught the headline:
"Mysterious Hacker Strikes Again, Millions Stolen in Overnight Cyber Heist."
The anchor's voice was sharp with fear, every word laced with tension. "Authorities remain baffled. The hacker, known only by their signature code, has drained accounts undetected until it's too late. Officials warn, no system appears safe."
Raine's heart pounded as she turned toward her brother. Ray was slouched in his chair, typing casually, as though the world outside their window wasn't falling apart.
"Ray…" Her voice was quiet but firm. "It's you, isn't it?"
Ray's fingers stilled on the keyboard. He glanced at her, one brow raised. "What makes you think that?"
"I know you." Her voice shook, but her eyes did not waver. "Your patterns. The way you work. I've seen it in the codes they showed on the news. It's yours."
For a moment, the room was silent except for the hum of the old computer. Then Ray leaned back in his chair, smirking again, but this time it didn't reach his eyes.
"You always were too sharp for your own good."
Raine's stomach twisted. Anger. Fear. Pride. Everything crashed together, leaving her unsure if she wanted to scream at him or beg him to stop.
"You don't understand," Ray continued, his tone cooler now. "This is how we survive. You think your books and your part-time job will keep us alive? No. But this—" he tapped the screen, where numbers shifted and multiplied—"this will."
Raine's hand trembled as she pushed her glasses up again. Her voice was barely a whisper. "And what happens when they catch you?"
Ray chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with reckless fire. "They won't."
But Raine wasn't so sure.