Lily stood in front of a wall-length mirror, surrounded by silk and satin, trying to smile as Jake's sister—Callista, clicked her heels across the polished floor, inspecting every dress like a queen selecting a servant.
A salesgirl hovered nearby, holding a delicate ivory gown Lily had just tried on. It had pearl detailing, too modest for Lily's taste, but elegant enough to pass as "family appropriate."
"I'm not sure about that one," Callista said airily, wrinkling her nose. "It's too… graceful."
The salesgirl's polite smile faltered. Lily turned toward the mirror, her lips stretched into a calm smile even as her stomach tightened.
"That's why I brought you," Lily said sweetly. "You've always had a better eye than me."
Callista hummed in satisfaction, like a cat being praised for scratching furniture.
"Well, someone had to make sure you don't look completely provincial at the wedding."
Lily bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to taste blood.
She smiled wider.
The word graceful echoed in her mind.
She used to hear that word a lot—but not for her.
Always for Ellie.
That, and gifted. Beautiful. Deserving.
Even now, the sound of Ellie's name left a bitter taste she'd learned to swallow like wine.
It was always like this:
Ellie got the prettier dolls. The shinier shoes. The longer birthday parties.
People noticed her. Boys followed her. Teachers adored her.
And Lily? Lily was the one who watched.
She remembered watching Ellie get her first car, their dad proudly called "a reward for excellence." Ellie had smiled, all graceful and quiet pride. Lily's stomach had twisted so hard she thought she'd be sick.
The next week, she cried to their mother, claiming she felt left out, unloved, even though she already got her own car before Ellie did.
Still, she got another car the next day. An expensive one. More than Ellie's.
She learned early: the trick wasn't to be better. It was to make people believe you needed more.
Lily had practiced sweetness like a second language. She was soft-spoken. Delicate.
Ellie was the natural , talent, poise, beauty but Lily was the survivor.
And if she couldn't shine brighter, she'd dim Ellie's light.
It started small. A teacher's compliment, twisted.
A rumor, spread quietly.
Then bigger , copying her dress styles, stealing boys who liked Ellie more.
Jake wasn't the first.
He was just the one who stuck.
A voice snapped her out of it.
"Miss, are you ready to try the next one?" the salesgirl asked gently.
Lily blinked and nodded. "Yes, of course. Sorry—I got a little distracted."
She turned and watched as Callista sifted through gowns like she was rifling through trash.
"So," Callista began, glancing at her nails, "why'd you really give your inheritance to Ellie? That was kind of... stupid."
The salesgirl froze mid-step.
Lily smiled again, that polished, practiced expression that never reached her eyes.
"I've wronged her," she said, voice quiet and sugar-sweet. "It's the least I could do. I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't."
But in her mind, she was somewhere else entirely.
Her father's study had been dark, lit only by the brass lamp on his desk.
"We're giving the inheritance to Ellie."
She'd stared at him. "What?"
"The business is yours now. Ellie gets the inheritance. It's cleaner that way."
"Cleaner," she'd repeated.
"If we give her nothing, it looks bad. This balances it."
She'd nodded. Agreed. Smiled.
And burned.
One more thing handed to Ellie to keep her quiet.
One more way Lily was expected to play the good sister, after taking the one thing that should've been hers from the start.
Callista snapping at the salesgirl brings Lily out of her thoughts,"None of these are refined enough. Bring something more appropriate for our family standards, please."
The salesgirl nodded, flustered, and vanished toward the back.
Lily stood there, still smiling.
Maybe she'd lost the inheritance.
Maybe Ellie had walked away looking poised, powerful.
But Lily had something Ellie didn't.
A wedding.
A ring.
A man that now bore her name, even if he still looked at Ellie in the quiet.
Lily smoothed down the front of her gown.
At least I got something of hers for life.