Are you scared yet?

Twins

My sister and I have always had the whole ‘twin-tuition’ thing going on. Our parents joked that we spoke our own secret language—one without syllables or sentences. We just understood each other, y’know?

Not gonna lie, our ‘link’ came in super useful. Like during a pop quiz, Alex would pretend to stretch her neck and glance in my direction, and the look on her face would tell me: what did you get for number 4?

And then I’d raise an eyebrow. I put ‘B’, but I’m not 100% sure.

This other time, when we were out with a group of friends at the bowling alley, she scratched her nose, which was her way of saying: Allie, that Tyler guy in your lane is super cute, ask him out!

Then I curled my bottom lip. No way, his man bun smells like cheese!

There were times I hated being a twin, like when we had to put up with dirty jokes or got treated like one person. I mean, okay, we looked identical, but there were SOME differences; arts and crafts were my jam whereas she was always the sporty one. Overall, though, I loved having her as a sister. And I loved our special bond.

But today, that bond just sort of…vanished.

It started with a premonition. We both got those anytime something bad happened. Like once, out of nowhere, Alex ran into the lounge and told our parents, “Allie just hurt herself.” And at that exact moment, more than six miles away, I’d stepped into a ditch and rolled my ankle. This other time, a voice in the back of my mind told me Alex needed me, and I called her before her asshole ex could even finish dumping her.

But this latest premonition was worse than all those others combined. It started with the taste of bile in the back of my throat, then images of hands closing around Alex’s neck swirled through my mind. I watched her face turn lobster red as her eyeballs rotated outward. I could almost hear her choked screams.

When she didn’t answer her phone, there was this overwhelming, almost dizzying need to hold her—to make sure she was safe—so I raced home, charged up the stairs, and burst into our room.

Alex, who was crouched alongside our bunk beds, casually stood and said, “Hey.”

That confused me. I threw my arms around her and said, “Please, please tell me you’re okay?”

She screwed up her face and shrugged me off, in a very unAlex-like way. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

I kept my eyes fixated on her, my body still rigid and shaking. “I got this feeling like you were in trouble.”

“Nope. False alarm.”

I surveyed the room. In the corner, Alex’s soccer uniform was hanging off the dresser, and pushed up against the far wall, my crafts table was still a scattered mess of paint brushes, coloring pencils, and spools of thread.

Okay, nothing sus. But those horrible images wouldn’t leave my mind. A glimpse of Alex trapped someplace dark came to me.

Now I was even more confused…

“Are you sure you’re alright?” I asked. She threw me a look, and suddenly her face had a sour expression that I’d never, ever seen before.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Her voice had gone odd, too. It sounded angry and flat—like she was hiding something.

Okay, seriously weird. Maybe our twin-tuition was on the fritz? Or maybe something happened she was too embarrassed to tell me about? That would sure explain her being such a grouch…

Later, we sat down to dinner with our parents. Dad was cooking, and as the scent of his signature beef casserole wafted up, Alex and I locked eyes from across the table.