They Thought I Was Faking My Illness

"Ms. Scott, this isn't carpal tunnel syndrome. It's Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, or ALS." I rubbed my stiff wrist and forced out a shaky smile. "Doctor... can it be cured?" He didn't answer directly. "You'll start dropping things. You'll fall more often. Swallowing will become difficult, and eventually..." He paused. "Please have your family come in. We need to discuss a treatment plan as soon as possible." My mind went completely blank. "If I stick to treatment... can I still compete in swimming?" That gold medal was supposed to be a birthday gift for my brother. The doctor looked up. "You have a biological brother?" I nodded. "He should get genetic testing. There's a chance he could carry the same mutation." Just then, my phone buzzed. Best Brother Wyatt: Doris, I'm on a business trip with Mom and Dad. I'll bring back a gift for you. I didn't want my family to worry. So I secretly searched If the younger sister has ALS, does her brother have it too? Before I could finish reading the search results, a breaking news alert slid across my screen. "Police Bust Major Human Trafficking Ring—Rescue the Scott Family's Real Daughter" The video played automatically. My family surrounded a girl I'd never seen before. She clung to my brother, sobbing into his shoulder. I stared at the screen without blinking. Then I let out the biggest sigh of relief. So I wasn't really related to the Scott family by blood. That meant my brother wouldn't inherit this disease. What I never expected was that after I died, my brother would hold my urn in his arms, over and over again, whispering through tears, “Doris... why did you leave me behind?” That evening, my family brought home the girl from the news. Her name was Cecilia. She had been switched at birth and raised in a small town thousands of miles away. And I had spent 20 years living as the Scott family's daughter in her place. I looked at her face. She looked almost identical to my brother, Wyatt Scott. It was like they had been copied and pasted from the same mold. For the first time in my life, I truly understood what "living someone else's life" meant. My mom, Emily Scott, who had never cooked, made dinner herself. Wyatt reached for a piece of snow crab to put on Cecilia's plate. Then his eyes met mine. His hand froze. "Snow crab is hard to find where Cecilia grew up. She's never had it before..." The platter happened to be sitting right in front of me. "Let me." I smiled at him. I picked the biggest, fattest crab leg. Just as I held it out to Cecilia, my fingers suddenly locked up. They wouldn't move. The crab slipped. It landed right on Cecilia. She shrieked. "It's hot!" I panicked. My hand refused to obey me. The next second, I knocked over glasses and plates, and they crashed across the table. Cecilia sniffled, her voice barely above a whisper. "Dad... maybe I shouldn't have come home. Does Doris hate me?" Smack! My dad, Ryan Scott, grabbed the plate off the table, then slammed it onto my head. "You did that on purpose, didn't you? Cecilia just came home, and you already can't stand her?" Brown broth ran down my forehead. Suddenly, the crab my mom had cooked tasted unbearably salty. Emily's eyes were red as she wrapped an arm around Cecilia and led her away. Wyatt looked at me, disappointment filling his eyes. "Doris, I've spoiled you too much." "Wyatt, I didn't mean to. My hand suddenly lost all its strength..." He took back the gift he'd planned to give me. Without another word, he turned and walked away. I opened the bedroom door. Cecilia instantly shrank into Mom's arms. "Mom..." Mom held a hair dryer in one hand while pulling Cecilia closer with the other. "It's okay. I'm here. She won't bully you again." The only sound left in the room was the steady hum of the hair dryer. Hidden in Mom's embrace, Cecilia slowly turned her head. Our eyes met. A smug smile curled onto her lips. That was when it hit me. She had taken my room.