The Betrayal Mirror

Sarah: POV You should listen to me,"say, my arms crossed. And why should I listen to you? Sar answer with a laugh, not taking me seriously. "Because I am your older sister. By four minutes. Sar laugh and walk away. She loved me sister deeply, but she never believed that four minutes should determine who was wiser. We were twins that known throughout Ashwood for our striking beauty. Our smooth dark skin glowed in the sunlight, like wise our bright smiles could light up a room, and our long hair flowed down their backs. We looked almost identical, yet anyone who knew we well could tell us apart instantly from their eyes. My eyes held ambition. Sar's eyes held peace. I was ambitious, outspoken, and determined to get whatever i wanted. If I wanted a dress, i worked until i bought it. If I wanted attention, I commanded it. My twin sister Sar was gentle, patient, and kind-hearted. She listened more than she spoke. People came to her for advice. Despite our differences, we had always been inseparable. Growing up, we shared everything. We wore matching dresses to school. We studied together at the same table. We celebrated birthdays together with the same cake. We cried together when their grandmother died. When one was sick, the other stayed by her side all night. Our bond seemed unbreakable. At least, that was what everyone in Ashwood believed. That Saturday morning, we sat at our favorite spot beneath the large mango tree behind our house. The old tree had witnessed countless conversations between us over the years, from childhood secrets to teenage dreams. Its shade was cool and quiet. Sar rested her back against the thick trunk, reading a fashion magazine she had borrowed. I scrolled through her phone, bored. Have you ever thought about getting married?" I asked suddenly, without looking up. Sar lowered her magazine, Of course I have. I mean seriously," i said, turning to my twin sister. "Have you imagined what your husband will be like? What will he do?" Sar smiled. "Someone kind. And honest. Someone who respects me." I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Kind and honest? That's all? You're too simple, Sar." What about you, then? What does the ambition I want?" I turn to her and say . "My husband will be rich. Very rich. He will drive a big car, live in a big house, and take me to places." Sar burst into laughter. "Rich first? What if he is rich but treats you badly? What if he shouts at you?" "Then I will teach him how to treat me well," i said confidently. Sar shook her head, her expression becoming serious. "You cannot teach a man how to love you, Sarah. Love is not just words you say. Love is commitment. It is care, trust, building each other, covering each other's shame. Love is respect, protecting each other's secrets. In a relationship or marriage, love is not enough on its own. It is like a school, you must learn every day. Apart from material things, you cannot force a man to love you." I smirked and waved her hand. "Maybe you can't. But not everybody is the same." The conversation ended with both sisters laughing. Neither of us knew how important those words would become in the next few months. Inside the house, our aunty called them for lunch. Her voice was warm and familiar. "Sar! Sarah! Food is ready!" The family was not wealthy, but we were comfortable and happy. Our father worked as an accountant at a local firm, always neat and punctual before he die years back, Our mother owned a small tailoring shop near the market, known for her beautiful dresses before she past away. Our aunty raise I and my twin sister sar, my aunty as no children. She raises us as her children. We called her mother Our aunty had raised us with strong values: honesty, respect, hard work, and family. Above all. After lunch, i and Sar decided to visit the town center to buy hair products. The market was crowded as usual on a Saturday. Women bargained loudly over vegetables and tomatoes. Motorcycles weaved dangerously through traffic. Street musicians entertained passersby with drums, and the smell of fried plantain filled the air. I and my twins enjoyed the lively atmosphere. As we both walked through the busy streets, many people greeted us warmly. "Good afternoon, I greeted, an old woman selling oranges called. "Hello, Sar," a young boy said. We both smiled politely at everyone. Near a popular café where young people gathered, we stopped to buy cold drinks to escape the heat. That was when i noticed a black luxury SUV parked nearby, shining like it had just been washed. It stood out among the old taxis and motorcycles. "Wow," I whispered, my eyes widening. Sar followed her gaze. "Nice car. Probably belongs to some big man." "Very nice," I said, unable to look away. The driver's door opened. A tall man stepped out. He wore an expensive navy blue suit and dark sunglasses even though the sun was not too bright. His black skin glowed, his pink lips were set in a confident smile, and his beard was perfectly trimmed. Confidence seemed to follow him wherever he walked. Several people turned to look at him. Even from a distance, it was obvious he was wealthy and used to being noticed. I watched him closely, my heart beating faster. "He's handsome. Very handsome." Sar shrugged, sipping her drink. "I suppose he is. If you like that type. "You suppose? Sar, look at his skin. Look at how he walks. I said without thinking, He is my kind of man." Sar laughed. "You sound impressed already, i replied yes. Sar said, You don't even know him." I could not deny it. There was something about the man, something powerful, attractive, and dangerous. Before either we both could say more, the man removed his sunglasses, glanced around the market as if he owned it, and disappeared into a nearby expensive building. We eventually continued shopping and forgot about the encounter. Or at least Sar did. Sarah did not. All afternoon, as they moved from shop to shop, her mind kept returning to him. Who was he? What did he do for a living? Was he married? Did he live in Ashwood or was he just visiting? What cream did he use to have such smooth skin? Why was she feeling this way about a stranger she had only seen for ten seconds? Back home, while Sar asked what they would cook for dinner, i was completely distracted, lost in thought. "Sarah? What are we eating this evening? I want to make yam and egg sauce. You are very selective, so I am asking you," Sar said, standing in the kitchen doorway. I blinked, startled. "Hmm? Yes, yam and egg sauce is fine. Cook it." Sar frowned, crossing her arms. "You are behaving strangely today. You are lost. What is troubling your heart? Are you keeping secrets from me now?" "No, dear, I am just thinking. Sometimes a person needs to think," I replied quickly, avoiding eye contact. Sar studied her sister, confused by her tone. "I don't understand you today, Sarah. You sound different. Whatever it is, take it easy. I am going to cook now. I am hungry before I faint here." That evening, i and my sister sat together on the front porch as they often did. The sky glowed orange and purple as the sun slowly disappeared beyond the horizon. Children played nearby, neighbors chatted across fences, and the evening air was cool. I suddenly spoke, my voice soft. "Sar, do you believe in love at first sight?" Sar nearly choked on her drink. "Where did that come from?" "I am just asking." "No, I don't believe it," Sar said firmly. "You cannot know someone just by looking at them. It might just be attraction." I leaned back and stared at the sky. "Sometimes you can feel something instantly. Maybe it is destiny. Maybe it is a spark." Sar laughed again. "You have been watching too many romantic movies, Sarah. You need to be realistic." I pretended to be offended, and the sisters continued teasing each other until darkness settled over the neighborhood and their mother called them inside. Later that night, i lay awake in bed. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, making patterns on the wall. Beside her, Sar slept peacefully, breathing softly. But I couldn't sleep. My thoughts kept returning to the stranger with the luxury SUV. I didn't know his name. She didn't know anything about him. Yet she felt strangely curious and excited, as if her life was about to change. I whispered to myself in the dark, "He is my spark. He is the kind of man I have been praying for. I wish he would be mine." Across the room, Sar turned in her sleep. Unlike me, I wasn't thinking about any mysterious stranger. My mind was free from such distractions. I believed life would unfold naturally and what was meant for me would eventually find me. Neither sister realized that fate was already moving quietly behind the scenes. Far away, in another part of town, in an expensive restaurant with soft music, the owner of the black SUV sat alone at a table. His name was Owie. He smiled as he checked messages on his phone, two different women texting him at the same time. A wedding ring rested on his finger, glinting under the restaurant lights. At home, a wife named Vivi waited for him with their two children. But Owie wasn't thinking about them. He enjoyed the attention. He enjoyed admiration. Most of all, he enjoyed knowing that people found him irresistible and that he could have anyone he wanted. What he didn't know was that destiny was slowly leading him toward two sisters whose lives would soon become tangled in lies, jealousy, heartbreak, and betrayal. The mirror of truth had not yet been revealed. But cracks were already beginning to form. And when the truth finally emerged, nothing would ever be the same again. (To be continued...)