COLD SUMMER

Chapitre 2

'Your sister is missing'

This phrase kept replaying in my head. Why was I so shaken up? I hadn't seen Skylar in seven years. We had tried to keep in touch by phone but the calls were few and far between until they stopped. Skylar was too busy with her life as an influencer. She had to juggle school, fashion shows, and commercial contracts. She even acted in a movie. The interests that bound us together quickly became insufficient with the distance. She would tell me about her new friends and how great they were. Even though I was her twin sister, I wasn't good enough for her anymore. I thought she was the only one who understood me. Then she had finally forgotten about me.

However, I understood. She was so different from me. She was destined to shine. She loved fame. She had a gift for charming people, for blending in perfectly with society, unlike me.

At first I missed her terribly. Then I got used to her absence until she became a stranger. I would be lying if I told you that our time together didn't awaken nostalgia. We were happy. Our parents didn't give us affection, but we were enough for each other. We spent our days skating until we were freezing, our lips chapped. Before I became the person I am today, we escaped to see the fireworks on the Fourth of July. There was a Ferris wheel on the pier. Skylar, afraid of heights, refused to ride the Ferris wheel and promised me that we would try it next time for me. I had been angry but I could see that she was more disappointed than I was that she couldn't do it.

In the end, we never did. It was perhaps one of the only things I regretted. It was the perfect place to watch the fireworks. I wanted to share that moment with her alone.

I was reliving the memories as if they were yesterday. Memories that I thought I had forgotten. It was strange to mention someone's name and have it all come back.

The car made a sudden movement and pulled me out of my thoughts. I realized that I had almost arrived at the beach house. Ever since the news of Skylar's disappearance, I had been on autopilot. Although the good memories were coming back, so were the bad ones. I was going to see my parents again, to dive back into their lives, into their cruelty. My hands became sweaty. It was the harbinger of a panic attack.

Take it easy. You haven't done that in a long time. You're not a helpless little girl anymore.

The driver opened the door for me to get out. I looked up at the villa.

'Welcome home, Miss Green.'

It wasn't home. More like a nightmare.

A valet came to collect my luggage. I followed him and entered the huge house, my throat tight with anticipation.

A lady was sitting on the couch, her eyes glued to a magazine. Even at home, she was impeccably coiffed and dressed. A steaming cup was on the glass table in front of her. The scent of coffee caressed my nostrils.

It was a shock when she met my eyes. This woman had given birth to me. She was my mother, biologically speaking. But I felt nothing but a familiar anger as I looked at her. I did not feel the joy and satisfaction of seeing a loved one again.

I did not know how to greet her. Should I call her Mother? It had been a long time since I had said that word. Perhaps 'Evangeline' would be easier to say, but she would think it rude.

She put the magazine aside and stood up. She stared at me silently. No surprise, no joy, no emotional outpouring. She didn't ask me how I was doing. Just a cold, inexpressive look.

'You're so different from her, after all.'

She walked around the coffee table to get closer.

When you were little, I could hardly tell you apart when I was your mother.