A short little girl with light brown hair came running to her mother, her steps quick and eager.
"Mommy, mommy," she said breathlessly, tugging at her sleeve. "When is my sister coming?"
"Your dad is almost here with her," her mother replied gently. "Just be patient."
The little girl's hazel-brown eyes sparkled with anticipation as she and her mother stood before the front door. Her excitement swelled, thinning her patience by the second.
At last, the large oak door creaked open. Her father stepped inside, and beside him stood a girl slightly taller than the child waiting so anxiously. The newcomer had long, charcoal-black hair that fell neatly down her back and eyes as deep and blue as the open ocean.
The smaller girl wasted no time. She dashed forward and wrapped her arms tightly around the other.
"Even though you've come into this house," she whispered into the girl's ear, her voice low and possessive, "don't forget—I'm the real daughter."
A chill seemed to run down the taller girl's spine. Her eyes widened briefly, but she said nothing. Instead, she slowly lifted her arms and returned the hug, her silence heavy and unreadable.
Nearby, the parents watched with smiles stretched from ear to ear, mistaking the moment for a perfectly heartwarming reunion.
When the girls finally pulled apart, the shorter one—her brown hair bouncing—clasped the other's hands with enthusiasm. One could see a bright, almost loving sparkle in her eyes.
"I'm Klara, your new older sister," she announced proudly, a grin plastered across her face.
The taller girl smiled politely. "Sister Klara, you can call me Ivy," she replied. "But I think I'm actually older than you."
Klara's eyes widened in disbelief. She turned to her parents, silently demanding confirmation.
Their mother stepped closer and nodded, stroking Klara's hair. "Ivy is a year older than you, dear."
Klara's expression tightened for just a moment before she forced a smile.
"Klara, go to your room while we get Ivy settled," their father said.
"Alright, Daddy," Klara replied cheerfully, skipping away toward the stairs.
Ivy's gaze lingered on Klara as she disappeared down the corridor upstairs, her figure vanishing around the corner. She seemed lost in thought until her mother's voice gently pulled her back.
"Ivy," she said softly. "Let's go show you your room."
Ivy smiled and nodded, slipping her hand into the woman's. Together, the parents guided her upstairs to a large door at the end of the hall.
---
The next morning, sunlight spilled across Ivy's elegant bedroom as Klara's mother lifted the curtains. Klara followed behind her, peeking in curiously.
"Thank you, Mrs. Hansen," Ivy said with a warm smile. "I like my room."
"Please, call me Mom now," she replied, her eyes glistening with excitement.
Ivy nodded, smiling once more.
Klara stood quietly, watching. That morning, she wore a bright smile and a neat middle-school uniform. A maroon jacket hung over her shoulders, and a small black bow tied her hair back. She looked ready—too ready.
After breakfast, Klara and her parents headed out, leaving Ivy alone in the house.
"Mommy, where's Ivy?" Klara asked as they returned later that afternoon.
"She already left for school, dear," her mother replied.
"But school starts at eight," Klara said quickly.
"She goes to a different school," her father interrupted.
"Oh. Alright," Klara said softly.
Yet the question lingered.
---
Later that day, Klara found Ivy in her room, bent over her homework. Klara paused at the doorway, her eyes narrowing.
"Ivy, what's wrong?" Ivy asked, snapping Klara out of her daze.
"I just wanted to see my sister," Klara replied innocently as she entered.
She glanced at Ivy's open book and leaned closer. "What's that equation? I've never seen it at my school."
"They probably wouldn't teach it there," Ivy said casually.
Klara suddenly grabbed the book and snapped it shut, her eyes locking onto the cover.
"You study at Lakeside?" she demanded.
"Yes," Ivy replied calmly. "Why do you look so shocked?"
"I've never even seen Lakeside," Klara said, her voice dropping into something darker.
"Oh! Then you can come with me next time," Ivy said cheerfully.
"How can a lonely brat study at Lakeside?" Klara screamed, anger blazing in her eyes.
"Klara, calm down," Ivy said softly.
"You—who mooches off my family's money—a low-breed orphan who doesn't deserve life—goes to the most prestigious middle school in the country?" Klara spat.
Ivy froze. "What… are you saying?"
Klara stormed out, slamming the door behind her, and raced downstairs.
"Mommy! Daddy! I want to go to Lakeside too!" she cried.
"What?!" her father exclaimed.
"We can't afford that school, honey," her mother said gently.
"Then how come Ivy goes there?" Klara snapped.
"Honey, I don't—" her mother began.
"I got a scholarship," Ivy said quietly from the stairs.
"Ivy is very smart," her father added. "A wealthy sponsor is paying for her education."
"I'm smart too!" Klara cried, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Of course you are, dear," her mother said, pulling her into a tight embrace. She smiled reassuringly at Ivy—though something unspoken lingered in the air.