The public library was exactly what she needed, not just because she had a few more books and topics to cover, but because she had a lot to think about, the former overshadowing the later a great deal.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't focus on the textbook in front of her. The words blurred together as her mind kept drifting back to the girl she had seen earlier at the flower shop—the girl who looked exactly like her. The encounter replayed over and over in her mind, each time more surreal than the last.

Who was she?

Who was she? How was any of it possible? How could someone look so much like her, yet be a complete stranger? Anne-Marie spent the entire evening wrestling with the same questions, the same unsettling thoughts. What if there was more to it? What if it wasn't just a coincidence? What if they were related somehow—maybe even twins?

"Snap out of it, Anne-Marie," she muttered under her breath. "This isn't some movie."

She let out a weak exhale and picked up her pen, absentmindedly drumming it on the edge of her book. There had to be something she was missing, some piece of the puzzle that hadn't yet fallen into place. She raised a hand to her head, rubbing her temples in frustration. Why had she left the shop so quickly? She should have stayed, should have asked that girl all the questions that now swirled endlessly in her mind.

If she had a twin, she would know, wouldn't she? Her parents would have told her, wouldn't they? The only sibling she ever had was Abel. That was it. There was no way—

A loud burst of laughter broke through her thoughts, shattering her concentration. She tensed, recognizing the obnoxious laughter without even turning around. The Crane sisters—seven to nine high schoolers from Crane High, her old school—had just walked into the library. They were notorious for breaking rules and being lousy as they did, wherever they went, and the library was no exception.

The last thing Anne-Marie wanted was their attention. She had managed to stay out of their way for three months, ever since the last encounter that hadn't gone well. If no one was going to stop them from causing a commotion, she certainly wouldn't be the one to try. She just needed to focus on her reading, or at least pretend to.

But it was no use. Anne-Marie could feel their eyes on her, even as she tried to shrink into her seat. She knew they had spotted her. It was impossible to avoid notice when they were around, especially when they decided to make you their target.

She pushed herself closer to the desk, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and forced herself to focus on the textbook in front of her.

"Isotopes," she whispered to herself, repeating the word like a mantra. "Isotopes."

But the footsteps were growing louder, and she knew they were heading her way.

"Look what the cat dragged in," one of the girls sneered as they surrounded her table. "It's Maria the bum."

Anne-Marie held her breath, keeping her eyes fixed on the book in front of her. She didn't dare look up, even as she saw the girl across from her begin to gather her things in fear and exhaustion at the noise they were making, it was probably difficult for her to read and she wasn't the only one leaving. The girl shot her a look of pity before hurriedly vacating the table. Anne-Marie let out a shaky breath, her pulse quickening, wondering if she followed the thread as well and left while she still could.

Here we go again.

"Fancy meeting you here," the leader of the group, Keisha, taunted, slapping her hand down on Anne-Marie's book. The force of the impact made Anne-Marie flinch, but she kept her gaze down, trying to maintain her composure.

"I don't want any trouble, Keisha," Anne-Marie said quietly, still not looking up. "I'm just here to read and go."

Keisha scoffed. "To read?" she echoed, her voice dripping with mockery. One of the other girls snatched up Anne-Marie's textbook and began flipping through it with a smirk.

"Why bother reading when you don't even go to school anymore?" the girl taunted. "Didn't you drop out to take care of that dying brother of yours?"

"It looks like she's keeping up with our syllabus," the girl with the textbook remarked, her tone laced with condescension.

"Woah," Keisha feigned surprise. "Are you trying to go back to school, Maria?"

"My name isn't Maria," Anne-Marie said firmly, finally lifting her gaze to meet the girl's sneer. "It's Anne-Marie." She snatched the textbook back and slammed it onto the table. The girls laughed, their giggles sharp and cruel.

"Maria, Anne-Marie—what's the damn difference?" one of them shot back. "Your name still sounds lame."

"Fancy you talking about school when you can't even afford a new pair of shoes," another girl sneered, glaring at Anne-Marie's worn-out sneakers with disgust. "How do you plan to pay for tuition?"

Anne-Marie's stomach churned. What business was it of theirs? Why did they always feel the need to tear her down, to belittle her every chance they got?

"And what about your brother?" another girl chimed in. "I heard his skin is starting to decompose. He's practically a walking corpse." The others burst into laughter, exchanging high-fives as they reveled in their cruelty.

Anne-Marie's hands clenched into fists under the table. How could they say such things? How could they find any of this funny?

"It's not funny," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but it cut through the laughter like a knife. The girls quieted, sensing the shift in her tone. "None of what you just said is funny."

Keisha's expression darkened.

"What did you just say?"

Anne-Marie lifted her head, meeting Keisha's gaze with defiance. "My brother is not a walking corpse. He's alive, and he's going to keep living. Say whatever you want to me, but leave my brother out of it."

Keisha's eyes narrowed as she leaned in closer.

"Or what?" she challenged.

Before Anne-Marie could respond, she felt a sharp yank on her hair as one of the girls behind her grabbed a fistful and slammed her head down onto the table. Pain shot through her skull as her forehead hit the hard surface. She tried to lift her head, but the girl pinned it down again with brutal force.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" the girl hissed in her ear as Keisha slowly approached the table, a cold, calculating look on her face.

Anne-Marie's breathing became labored as the pressure on her head increased, making it difficult to even move. She felt trapped, helpless.

"I'm really curious where you got your courage from, Maria," Keisha said, her tone laced with sarcasm as she toyed with a keychain around her finger. She bent down, reaching into Anne-Marie's pockets without a second thought.

"W-what are you doing?" Anne-Marie stammered, trying to pull away, but the other girls held her hands in place, their grips like iron.

"Stop. Keisha, stop!" Anne-Marie pleaded, her voice cracking as panic set in. She could feel Keisha's hand rummaging through her pocket, her heart racing with dread.

"You just never know what treasures you might find, even in a pauper's pocket," Keisha remarked with a smirk, her fingers finally closing around something. Anne-Marie's heart sank as Keisha slowly pulled out the envelope—her money, all her hard-earned savings.

"Bingo," Keisha announced with a grin, waving the envelope in the air for the others to see.

A wide, cruel smile spread across Keisha's face as she opened the envelope. "Oh my goodness, this is a lot," she said, feigning shock as she flipped through the bills. "How did you make so much money?"

"Keisha, please," Anne-Marie's voice was trembling, her eyes filling with tears. She knew what was coming, and it terrified her.
"Keisha, please don't do this!"

The other girls watched with malicious delight, their smirks widening as Anne-Marie's desperation grew. She could feel all eyes in the library on them, but no one dared to intervene. No one ever did when the Crane sisters were involved.

"I'm pretty amazed, Maria. And proud, too," Keisha mocked, turning the money over in her hands.

"Keisha, please," Anne-Marie's voice broke as tears streamed down her face. "That's all I have. It's for my brother's treatment. He'll die if you take it. Please, Keisha!"

"My brother will die if you take the money," one of the girls mimicked in a sing-song voice, sending the others into fits of laughter.

Keisha turned to her friends, her eyes gleaming with sadistic glee.

"Girls, how about we go have dinner at that expensive restaurant downtown? I'm starving."

"I could go for anything with champagne right now," one of the girls chimed in, licking her lips.

"And let's hit the mall while we're at it," another added. "I could use a new uniform for school next week."

"And a pair of shoes," someone else agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

"Keisha!" Anne-Marie screamed her name, her voice hoarse with fear and anger. How could they do this? How could they steal everything she had and brag about it right in front of her? It was too much. It was all she had—all her savings for Abel's chemo. She had worked so hard for that money. Anne-Marie's chest tightened with panic as she struggled against the girls holding her down. She couldn't let Keisha walk away with it. Abel's life depended on it.

"Keisha, please!" Her voice was raw, cracking under the weight of her desperation. "Don't do this. Please, I'm begging you."

Keisha sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as if bored by the whole scene.

"Okay, okay," she said, her tone dripping with false patience. She nodded toward the girl pinning Anne-Marie's head to the table, signalling her to release her. The girl let go, and Anne-Marie slowly lifted her head, her face wet with tears, as she looked up at Keisha.

"That's enough now," Keisha said, her voice cold. "Stop yelling."

"Keisha, I'm sorry," Anne-Marie said, her voice trembling. She knew she was groveling, but she didn't care. Not anymore, not when Abel's life was at stake. "I should have known my place. I should never have talked back to you. I'm sorry, okay? Just let it go this one time."

Keisha looked down at her, feigning contemplation as she tapped her chin.

"I'll think about it," she said slowly, "if you do what I say from now on."

Anne-Marie sniffed, nodding frantically. She didn't care what Keisha wanted—she would say anything, do anything to get her money back.

Keisha smirked and signaled one of her friends, who immediately pulled out her phone to start recording. The other girls exchanged knowing looks, their smirks widening as they anticipated the humiliation to come.

Keisha leaned in closer to Anne-Marie, her voice dropping to a whisper that dripped with malice.

"Repeat after me," she ordered. "My name is Maria."

"My name is Maria," Anne-Marie repeated, her voice barely audible as it trembled with fear and shame.

"And I am nothing."

Anne-Marie hesitated, her eyes welling with fresh tears.

"What?"

"Say it!" Keisha barked, slamming her hand down on the table. The sound echoed through the library, making Anne-Marie jump.

"I am nothing," Anne-Marie whispered, feeling her dignity shred with each word.

"My name is Maria, and I am nothing," Keisha corrected, her voice cold and demanding.

"My name is Maria, and I am nothing," Anne-Marie repeated, choking on the words.

"And my mother was a pig-fucker and a whore," Keisha continued, her eyes glinting with cruelty. "She caught the plague and gave it to my father."

Anne-Marie's breath caught in her throat. Her heart shattered at the words, words she could barely stand to hear, let alone say. How could she repeat such vile lies about her mother? The tears spilled over, but she forced herself to speak.

"My mother was a pig-fucker and a whore," she stammered, her voice breaking. "She caught the plague and gave it to my dad."

"My mother killed my father," Keisha pressed, her tone growing more insistent.

"My mother killed—" Anne-Marie sobbed, the words catching in her throat. Her body shook with grief and humiliation, her hands trembling as she tried to wipe away the relentless tears.

"My mother killed my father," Keisha repeated, her patience thinning.

Anne-Marie squeezed her eyes shut, the tears streaming down her cheeks.
"My mother killed my father," she whispered, each word like a dagger to her heart.

"Louder!" Keisha demanded, her voice rising in pitch.

"My mother killed my father!" Anne-Marie screamed, her voice hoarse and filled with anguish. "My mother killed my father and ruined my life!"

The library was dead silent, the echo of her voice hanging in the air like a terrible, haunting truth. Keisha's smirk widened, pleased with her handiwork. The other girls burst into laughter, the sound grating and cruel.

"I've done what you wanted," Anne-Marie cried, her voice raw. "I've said everything you asked me to say. Now, please, give me back my money!"

Keisha looked at her with feigned pity, shrugging as if considering her plea.

"I'm only doing this because I feel sorry for you," she said, pulling out a couple of notes from the envelope and tossing them on the table. "Work with this."

Anne-Marie's heart sank as she stared at the pitiful amount Keisha had left her with. It wasn't even a fraction of what she needed for Abel's treatment.

"What?" Anne-Marie choked out, her voice trembling with disbelief.

Keisha turned to leave, her friends following close behind. "Come on, girls," she said casually, "let's get out of here."

"Keisha!" Anne-Marie shouted, scrambling to her feet to stop her. But one of the girls swung her fist into Anne-Marie's stomach, doubling her over in pain. They threw her to the ground, and before she could recover, they were on her, kicking and punching her mercilessly.

Anne-Marie curled into a ball, trying to protect herself from the blows, but they kept coming—relentless, cruel, and full of malice.

"Keisha!" she cried out again, her voice breaking as she tried to reach out to her, but Keisha was already walking away, her laughter echoing in the distance as the other girls followed, leaving Anne-Marie broken and battered on the library floor.