The Price of Playing My Sister

I walked into my room to find Clara perched on a chair, her hand stretched toward the safe box tucked at the very top of my closet. Her hand jerked the second I stepped inside.

The $300,000 diamond necklace tumbled out of the box and hit the mattress with a soft thud.

Her eyes darted around, searching for an exit as she forced out a shaky defense. "Sloane… I—I was just looking…" She swallowed hard, her voice gaining a pathetic edge. "My roommates were right.

You’re always gatekeeping. You won’t even let me borrow one piece of jewelry." I didn't waste my breath on her lies.

I lunged forward, winding my fingers into her hair, and jerked her head back. My palm connected with her cheek in a crack that echoed through the room.

The thud of footsteps raced down the hallway as my parents burst in from the living room. Clara clutched her face, tears streaming instantly. "Dad! Mom!

Sloane hit me!" Mom glanced at the necklace on the bed, her expression turning stonecold. She didn't say a word.

She just turned, grabbed a hardsoled slipper from the rack, and pressed it into my hand. "Is your hand sore?" Mom asked, her voice dangerously quiet. "Use this.

No one is bailing her out today." She glared at Clara, her eyes flashing with pure disgust. "We provide everything you need, and you still turn into a common thief?

Beat her until she learns. I don’t care who tries to stop you." Chapter 1 I took the slipper. I didn't hesitate. I brought the hard sole crashing down across Clara’s back. Smack.

The sound snapped through the bedroom. Clara shrieked, rolling onto the floor. "Mom! Dad! Help! Sloane is killing me!" Dad stood by the doorway.

His face was a mask of pure concrete. He reached out and clicked the bedroom door shut, cutting off the rest of the house. "Hit her," he said.

The words were ice. "She steals from her own blood. If we don't beat it out of her today, she'll be robbing strangers tomorrow." I raised my arm and brought the slipper down again.

Clara had been babied her whole life. She’d never felt a single consequence. Two hits, and she was sobbing like her world had ended, scrambling across the rug to get away.

I planted my foot squarely between her shoulder blades, pinning her to the floor. "What did you do?" I stared down at her.

Clara bawled, wrapping her hands over the back of her head. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have touched your stuff! Please, Sloane, let me go!" Smack.

I hit her again. "Liar." I kept my voice dead level. "You brought up your roommate. Explain.

Who is she, what exactly did she say, and why the hell are you stealing my diamonds for her?" Clara flinched, burying her face into the carpet.

I dug the toe of my shoe harder into her spine. She screamed. The last of her resistance snapped. "I'll tell you! It’s Taylor!

Taylor is going to some trustfund kid's birthday bash this weekend.

She said if she showed up without serious ice, she’d get laughed out of the room." She gasped for air. "She knew you had a diamond necklace.

She told me to get it so she could flex!" Mom let out a harsh breath. "She asked to borrow it, so you decided to rob your sister?" Clara lifted her tearstreaked face. "I was going to ask… But Taylor said Sloane was a selfish bitch and would definitely say no." "She said we're sisters, so what's Sloane's is mine, and borrowing it for a few days isn't stealing.

She told me if I didn't help her out, I was just an elitist snob looking down on her because she's broke." Bile rose in the back of my throat.

A threehundredgrand piece of jewelry to flex at a frat party, and refusing makes me a classist snob.

And my idiot sister actually bought that garbage logic. "So she's broke, and that makes her entitled to my safe?" I asked.

Clara hitched a breath, trying to defend her. "Sloane, you don't get it." "Taylor comes from nothing. She skips meals to afford textbooks.

She just has a lot of pride, and she wanted to network at this party." "A necklace is nothing to you, but to her, it could literally change her life." I kicked Clara's shoulder, flipping her onto her back. "Nothing to me?" I stepped forward, grabbed the collar of her shirt, and hauled her upper body off the floor. "I built my own business from the ground up to buy that.

I worked until my eyes bled." "And you're playing Robin Hood with my money to change a stranger's life? You're running a charity out of my closet?" Dad stepped forward.

He pulled out the desk chair and sat.

The room temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. "Clara," he started, his tone heavy and commanding. "Does this Taylor girl use you?" Clara shook her head hard. "No!

She's great to me! She brought me a coffee once when I was studying!" Mom walked straight to Clara's side of the room.

She grabbed the handle of Clara's closet and ripped the doors wide open. It was completely empty. Every single one of her designer jackets was gone.

Chapter 2 On her vanity, the thousands of dollars in skincare I bought her two weeks ago were gone. Not a single bottle left.

Mom pointed at the bare shelves. "Where are your clothes? Where are your products?" Clara refused to meet her gaze.

She mumbled to the floor. "Taylor had an interview." "She borrowed some outfits for a few days… I left the skincare at the dorm for everyone to share." "She can't afford the good stuff.

I didn't want to be stingy." A dark laugh scraped my throat. I tossed the slipper aside. "Right." I dusted off my hands and pivoted toward the door.

Clara scrambled up. "Sloane, where are you going?" I didn't look back. "To help your bestie change her life." I drove straight to Clara's campus.

It was past nine, the dorm hallways packed with students. I ignored them all, marching straight to room 304. I planted my foot and kicked the door with everything I had. Bang.

The door slammed open. Three girls were inside. Two girls lounging on their beds jumped, dropping their phones at the crash.

The third stood dead center in front of a fulllength mirror, midtwirl. She was draped in a custom black evening gown—the exact one I bought for Clara’s birthday last month.

Her face was fully beat, and the vanity beside her was cluttered with highend cosmetics. All Clara’s. This had to be Taylor. Taylor stopped spinning.

Her eyes dragged over me, her expression souring. "Who the hell are you? Ever heard of knocking?" I closed the distance in three strides.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her straight down. Taylor let out a sharp cry as her knees slammed into the linoleum.

The two girls on the beds gasped, scrambling back against the wall. I planted my heel squarely in the center of her back.

I leaned down, gripped her chin, and jerked her face up to meet mine. "I'm Clara's sister." I held her gaze. "Three hundred grand in diamonds, and you actually had the nerve to ask for them?" The blood drained from Taylor's face.

She thrashed under my foot, trying to push herself up, but I dug my heel in deeper. "Get off me!" she shrieked, clawing at my leg. "Clara said I could borrow it!

You can't just barge in here and attack me!" "Borrow?" I backhanded her across the face. The smack rang off the cinderblock walls. Taylor’s head snapped to the side.

A thin line of blood immediately pooled at the corner of her mouth. I wiped my hand on my jeans. "I paid for my things.

Clara doesn't have the right to lend them to anyone." Taylor clutched her stinging cheek. Tears spilled over her perfectly blended contour.

She snapped her head toward the beds, her voice instantly dropping into a trembling, victimized whine. "Bailey, Autumn, call campus security! She's trespassing!

She's assaulting me!" She choked on a sob. "Just because you have money doesn't mean you can come in here and beat up people who don't!" Bailey, clutching a pillow to her chest, looked uneasy.

She leaned forward slightly. "Miss, can you just let her go?" "Taylor really did just ask to borrow it. Clara is usually so chill about sharing.

We can just talk this out…" "Talk this out?" I locked eyes with Bailey. "She manipulated my sister into attempting grand larceny for three hundred thousand dollars worth of diamonds.

That is a felony. Are you absolutely sure you want to go to bat for a criminal?" Bailey’s mouth snapped shut. She scrambled back until her spine hit the headboard.

Taylor kept thrashing under my boot, her manicured nails digging desperately into the silk of the custom gown. "I didn't steal anything!

Clara gave it to me!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "You crazy bitch!

You're just jealous she actually has friends who care about her!" Chapter 3 I crouched down. "Take it off." Taylor froze. "What?" "I paid for that gown.

Take it off." I stared her down. Taylor crossed her arms tightly over her chest, bursting into loud sobs. "You're a psycho! Clara gave this to me!

You can't strip me!" I didn't waste breath arguing. I lunged, grabbed the neckline of the custom silk, and yanked. Riiip.

The expensive fabric tore straight down the middle, exposing the cheap camisole underneath. Taylor screamed, wrapping her arms around her torso.

She wailed like I was slaughtering her. "Help! Somebody help me! The rich snob is attacking the broke student!" The dorm hallway was already packed.

Heads peeked through the doorframe, the whispers growing into a loud buzz. Cell phone cameras popped up, lenses aimed straight at us.

Seeing the audience, Taylor cranked up the volume. She scrambled on her hands and knees toward the doorway, sobbing to the crowd. "Look at her!

I just borrowed my roommate's dress, and her sister broke in here to beat me up! She ripped my clothes off!

Do broke people just deserve to get stepped on by the rich?" [ "That's taking it way too far." ] [ "You can't just humiliate someone because you have money." ] [ "Someone call the cops, that's literally assault." ] I stood dead center in the room, watching the circus unfold.

I pulled a wet wipe from my bag and slowly cleaned my hands. A cheap guilt trip.

She wrapped herself in a victim blanket, using her empty bank account as a getoutofjailfree card to hijack everyone's empathy.

Right then, the dorm manager and the resident advisor pushed through the crowd.

Marcus, the RA, blanched when he saw Taylor sitting on the floor, bleeding and halfdressed. "What is going on here?

Who started a fight?" Taylor immediately lunged at Marcus, wrapping her arms around his calves. "Marcus, help me! Clara's sister broke in and tried to kill me! She ripped my dress!

She's humiliating me in front of everyone!" Marcus glared at me. "You're Clara's family? You can't just trespass on campus and assault a student!

That's a literal crime!" I dropped the soiled wipe onto the floor. "Marcus, right? She manipulated my sister into sneaking home to steal three hundred grand in diamond jewelry.

As the victim of a robbery, I came to educate the criminal. Is there a problem?" Marcus froze. The crowd in the hallway collectively gasped. "Three hundred grand?

Stealing?" Marcus stammered, looking down at Taylor. Taylor shook her head in a panic. "I didn't! Don't listen to her!" "I just asked Clara if I could borrow it for one day!

How was I supposed to know she was going to steal it?

I didn't do anything!" Marcus let out a heavy breath, immediately switching to a placating tone. "Look, miss, this is clearly a misunderstanding.

Taylor is on a hardship scholarship. She's a good student.

She would never mastermind a robbery." "Since you didn't actually lose the jewelry, keep your family drama behind closed doors. Assaulting a student on campus looks terrible.

Just apologize to Taylor, cover her medical bills, and we can drop this." A harsh laugh slipped out of me. "Apologize?

Pay her?" I walked right up to Taylor. "Where is Clara's skincare?" Taylor shrank behind Marcus, pressing her lips tightly together.

I shoved Marcus's arm out of my way and marched straight to Taylor's desk. It was completely loaded with highend glass bottles and jars.

Every single one of them was bought with my credit card. Chapter 4 I grabbed a threehundreddollar bottle of serum and hurled it at the floor. Crash. Glass shattered.

Expensive liquid splattered across the linoleum. "What the hell are you doing?" Marcus yelled. I ignored him. I picked up the perfume. The night cream. The foundation.

I smashed them all, one by one. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the dorm. Taylor stared at the wreckage, her body trembling uncontrollably. "Are you insane?

That's my stuff!" "Yours?" I stopped. I locked eyes with her. "You are on a needbased hardship scholarship.

You have over four grand in luxury skincare sitting on this desk, and you're telling me it's yours?" The whispers in the hallway shifted. The eyes boring into Taylor changed.

The color drained from Taylor's face, then flushed an angry red. "Clara didn't want them anymore, so she gave them to me!

What, poor people don't deserve nice things?" I didn't listen to her bullshit. I walked straight to her closet and ripped the doors open.

A dozen dresses hung inside, alongside three designer bags. I had taken Clara to the boutiques to pick out every single piece.

I yanked the clothes off the rack, hangers and all, threw them onto the floor, and stepped hard on the fabrics. "Did Clara gift you these too?" I asked.

Taylor ground her teeth, tears spilling over her cheeks. "Yes! She has a million outfits she never wears.

What’s wrong with letting me borrow them?" "You call this borrowing?" I pulled out my phone.

I pulled up Clara's Venmo history and shoved the screen right in Marcus's face. "Look at this, Marcus.

Just this month, Taylor requested money from Clara over a dozen times for Uber Eats. Hundreddollar meals, every single time." "Clara pays her phone bill.

Clara even bought Taylor that brandnew iPhone on a Klarna payment plan." I turned back to Taylor. "You stuck a dozen IV lines into my sister to bleed her dry, and you convinced her that's what friendship looks like.

You aren't just broke. You're trash." Taylor snapped. She shot up from the floor, pointing a shaking finger at me. "Shut up! Clara wants to spend money on me!

It's none of your business!" "You're just a coldblooded bitch who doesn't know what real friendship is!" I took a step forward.

She instantly flinched back, her spine slamming into the closet door. That was when I saw it. Sitting in her halfopen desk drawer was a burner phone. I reached for it.

Taylor reacted like a feral animal. She lunged at me, clawing wildly. "Don't touch my stuff! You thief!" I kicked the back of her knee. Her leg buckled.

She dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. I picked up the burner. No passcode. I tapped open the camera roll. I squeezed the phone until the plastic casing cracked.

The gallery was packed with photos. No landscapes. No selfies. Just Clara. Photos of Clara halfdressed, her bare back to the camera.

Photos of Clara fast asleep, wearing a thin, revealing nightgown. Photos of Clara's silhouette through the frosted glass of the shower door. Every single angle was invasive.

Predatory. Filthy. A sharp ringing sound started in my ears. I backed out of the gallery and opened her messaging app. There was only one pinned group chat at the very top.

The title was "Resource Sharing Hub." The messages Taylor had sent in that chat made my stomach churn. Chapter 5 [ New arrival. The rich girl in my dorm.

Total airhead. ] [ Body is insane. Selling this set for $500. No lowballs. ] [ I'm bringing her to the party this weekend. Have the roofies ready.

She's so easy to play, just takes a little "bestie" talk.

Once it's done, that corporate internship spot is mine. ] Taylor slumped on the floor, the color entirely drained from her face. She shook like a leaf.

Marcus sensed the shift in the room. He stepped closer. "What is it? What's on the phone?" I grabbed a fistful of Taylor's hair and hauled her up.

I dragged her out of the room and straight into the crowded hallway. "What are you doing! Let me go!" Taylor yelled. I shoved the glowing phone screen right into her face. "Go on.

Tell everyone exactly why you wanted Clara at that party." Taylor squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head frantically. "No… I didn't…" "Not going to say it?" I backhanded her again.

The skin split, sending a fresh trickle of blood down her chin. "Then I will." I pivoted toward the wall of students.

I held the phone high, my voice projecting down the entire block. "Taylor here, the girl crying about her hardship scholarship, has been secretly taking invasive photos of my sister in their room to sell to men online!" "Worse.

She set up a deal with a bunch of frat guys to drug my sister at a party this weekend. She was going to trade my sister’s body for a corporate internship!" Dead silence.

Every ounce of sympathy in that hallway evaporated. Dozens of eyes locked onto Taylor, dripping with pure disgust. "Oh my god… that is repulsive." "Selling photos of her roommate?

That's a literal felony!" "She acts so innocent, but she's completely twisted." Taylor’s last thread of sanity snapped.

She lunged, wrapping her arms around my legs, sobbing hysterically. "I'm sorry! Sloane, I'm so sorry!

I wasn't thinking!" "I had no choice, I need that internship, I can't survive without it!" "Please, just forgive me this once, I swear I'll never do it again!" "Forgive you?" I kicked her off my boots. "I don't forgive trash.

I take it to the dumpster." Marcus panicked. He pointed a trembling finger at Taylor. "Taylor! You… you've ruined the integrity of this campus!

The university will not tolerate this!" He immediately spun back to me. His entire demeanor flipped. "Sloane, this is an administrative oversight.

I promise you, we will handle this with the utmost severity. She will be expelled." "Just hand me the phone.

It's evidence for the university's internal investigation…" He reached for the device.

I stepped back, dodging his grasp. "Internal investigation?" I stared him down. "Marcus, five minutes ago you were demanding I pay her off.

Since when does a felony sex crime fall under campus administration?" Marcus sweated. "If this gets out, it destroys the school's reputation.

It ruins Clara's reputation!" "Let us handle it internally.

We'll give you a satisfactory resolution." "We don't need your resolution." A steady, commanding female voice rang out from the end of the hallway. The crowd parted.

Chapter 6 My parents strode down the hallway. Mom was in a sharply tailored blazer, her heels clicking sharply against the terrazzo floor.

Dad flanked her a halfstep behind in a dark suit, radiating an intimidating aura. Marcus froze. "Who are—" "Clara's parents." Mom stopped a foot away from Marcus.

Her gaze swept over Taylor on the floor, cold and surgical. Dad stepped forward, took the burner phone from my hand, and slid it directly into a plastic evidence bag.

Marcus wrung his hands, breaking a heavy sweat. "Sir, Ma'am, please, listen to me." "Taylor is completely in the wrong here, but involving the police will just traumatize Clara all over again." "The university will expel Taylor immediately.

We can handle this privately, okay?" Mom let out a breathy, humorless laugh. "Privately?

Marcus." "My daughter was subjected to longterm psychological manipulation, financial extortion, illegal surveillance, and a literal conspiracy for drugfacilitated sexual assault.

And the university's first instinct isn't to protect the victim, but to sweep it under the rug for PR?" Marcus’s jaw locked. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

Mom ignored him, turning her attention down to Taylor. Taylor scrambled across the tiles. She reached desperately for Mom's legs. "Ma'am! Please, have mercy!

I had no other choice!" "My family is broke, my dad is sick… If I don't get that internship, I'll never climb out of this hole!

I'm begging you, just one chance!" She slammed her forehead against the floor. Thud. Thud. Her skin bruised red instantly.

A few students in the crowd winced, their pity flickering again. Mom took two steps back, staying completely out of reach. Her eyes held zero warmth. "Taylor.

Do not use your bank account to justify your rot." Mom's voice was quiet, but it carried perfectly down the silent hall. "People who actually struggle will drag themselves through the mud to survive, but their spines stay straight.

And you?" Mom stared her down. "You feel entitled to steal. You treat your roommate like an ATM. You plotted to sell another girl's body as a stepping stone." Taylor froze.

Mascara and snot smeared across her pale face. "You aren't poor." Mom delivered the words like a death sentence. "You are greedy. You are malicious.

You are rotten to the bone." "I could hand you a mountain of gold, and you would still be a parasite." Dad pulled a thick stack of printed documents from his briefcase. "Taylor.

This is a comprehensive ledger of every bill, designer item, and luxury product Clara financed for you over the last six months.

Totaling exactly eleven thousand, two hundred dollars." Dad dropped the stack right in front of Taylor's face. "Add that to the unauthorized recording and distribution of private, intimate photos.

Add the conspiracy to commit drugfacilitated sexual assault." Dad adjusted his cuffs. "We will be settling every single one of these accounts in court." Taylor shattered.

She collapsed onto the floor, letting out a guttural wail.

Marcus made one last desperate attempt. "Sir, please, can't we just protect the university's reputation here?" Dad pulled out his phone. "I already called 911.

Cops will be here in five." Chapter 7