Chapter 2
849 Words
Rose had had it.
“Mom, I swear—if Rosa takes one more thing from my closet, you will only have two daughters left.”
She stormed down the stairs, hair slightly messy, eyes blazing with frustration.
At the dining table, Rosa didn’t even look guilty.
In fact, she looked very comfortable—sitting there, casually eating pancakes…
Wearing Rose’s dress.
“You have a lot of clothes,” Rosa said between bites, completely unbothered. “Why are you so dramatic over one dress?”
Rose stopped in the middle of the room, staring at her.
“That is not ‘one dress.’ That is my favorite dress.”
Rosa shrugged. “Correction. It was your favorite dress.”
Rose inhaled sharply.
“Take. It. Off.”
“No.”
“Rosa—”
“No,” Rosa repeated, finally looking up at her with a grin. “You’re not even wearing it today. I’m doing you a favor.”
“A favor?” Rose let out a dry laugh. “You call stealing a favor now?”
Before Rosa could reply, a calm voice cut through the tension.
“Both of you, enough.”
Their mother, Diane, walked into the room, tying her robe loosely as she glanced between them.
She looked tired—but not surprised.
This wasn’t new.
“Rosa,” Diane said, “stop taking your sister’s things without asking.”
“I was going to return it,” Rosa muttered.
“When? After you stretch it out?”
“I do not stretch clothes!”
“You literally shrank my sweater last week!”
“That was one time!”
“Girls.”
Both of them fell silent.
For about two seconds.
“She started it,” Rosa said.
“She’s lying,” Rose shot back.
Diane sighed, pressing her fingers lightly to her temple.
“Every morning…” she murmured. “Every single morning.”
From the corner of the table, a small voice spoke up.
“I think the dress looks nice on both of you.”
Both sisters turned.
Lily sat quietly, swinging her legs under her chair, her expression soft and completely genuine.
Rose blinked.
Rosa smiled.
“See? Lily gets it,” Rosa said proudly.
Rose groaned and dropped into a chair. “Of course you’d side with her.”
“I’m not siding,” Lily said quickly. “I just think you both look pretty.”
That shut them up.
For a moment.
Then—
“You’re still taking it off,” Rose muttered.
“No.”
“Rosa.”
“No.”
“Rosa—”
“Eat your food.”
---
The rest of breakfast passed in a mix of light arguments and small laughter.
Normal.
Almost too normal.
Rose found herself watching them quietly for a moment—Rosa arguing, Lily smiling, Diane trying to keep everything together.
A strange feeling settled in her chest.
Warm.
But… distant.
Like she was part of it…
And not at the same time.
“Rose?”
She snapped out of it.
Diane was looking at her now.
“You’re quiet this morning.”
“I’m fine,” Rose said quickly.
Too quickly.
Diane didn’t respond immediately.
She just watched her.
Carefully.
Like she was trying to see something Rose wasn’t saying.
“…If something’s wrong, you can tell me,” she said gently.
Rose forced a small smile. “Nothing’s wrong.”
A pause.
Then Rosa snorted. “Yeah, right. She’s just upset she’s still second place.”
Rose turned sharply. “You want to start again this early?”
“I’m just saying,” Rosa leaned back in her chair. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday.”
Rose froze for a split second.
“…I’m not acting weird.”
“You are,” Rosa said, pointing her fork at her. “You didn’t even argue properly this morning. That’s how I know something’s off.”
“That is not how that works.”
“It is for you.”
“Rosa—”
“Enough,” Diane said again, more firmly this time.
Silence fell over the table.
But the tension didn’t leave.
Not completely.
---
After breakfast, Rose headed upstairs.
The moment she closed her door, her expression dropped.
She walked to her mirror, staring at her reflection.
“You’re not acting weird,” she muttered to herself.
But even as she said it…
She didn’t believe it.
That feeling from yesterday—it hadn’t gone away.
If anything, it felt stronger.
She lifted her hand slightly, staring at it.
She could still remember it.
That moment.
When she touched Alex.
That strange spark.
“Why does it feel like I know him…?”
The question hung in the air.
Unanswered.
---
Downstairs, Diane stood alone in the kitchen.
The dishes were done.
The house was quiet.
But her expression…
Was anything but calm.
She glanced toward the stairs.
Then toward the window.
“…It’s starting,” she whispered.
Her grip tightened slightly on the counter.
“I was hoping for more time.”
- Writer
