In Mystic Falls, nothing stays buried forever-especially not secrets.
Elena Gilbert always believed she was an only child. But when her long-lost twin sister, Keira, is dragged into town under dangerous circumstances, everything changes.
Raised in t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Thanks for the Trauma, Mom
The light leaking through the window is soft and grey, the kind of morning that feels like it's holding its breath.
There's a knock at the door—three soft taps. Not urgent. Just... uncertain.
I'm still curled up on the guest bed, staring at nothing, tangled in sheets that don't belong to me. The room's quiet except for the hum of silence you only get in a house that's seen too much.
"Yeah?" My voice comes out rough. Quiet.
The door creaks open and Elena steps inside.
She looks exactly how I expected her to—put together, polite, slightly tense. She's wearing one of those neutral-toned cardigans that make her look like she stepped out of a sad indie film.
She hovers near the door, arms crossed, gaze flicking around the room like she's afraid to meet mine.
"I didn't think you'd be awake," she says.
I sit up, not bothering to fix the mess of my hair or the eyeliner smudged under my eyes. "Don't really sleep. Comes with the whole undead thing."
She offers a faint smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes.
When she doesn't move, I nod toward the empty side of the bed. "You can sit. I won't bite."
Not today anyway.
She steps in slowly, sitting stiffly like the mattress might break under the weight of whatever this is.
For a few seconds, we just exist in the same space. Two girls with the same face, the same blood, and entirely different stories.
"I heard what you did," she says eventually. "With Jonas."
I tense. "Is that why you're here? To tell me I went too far?"
"No," she says quickly. "I'm here because... I wanted to say thank you. For protecting me."
I glance over at her, surprised.
"I know it wasn't just about me," she continues. "But still. You didn't have to do that."
"Yeah, well," I mutter, looking down at my hands, "he came here to kill you. And I'm not really in the habit of letting that slide."
She nods, biting her lip. "You could've let Stefan handle it."
I laugh—short, humorless. "And what? Let you die while we had a team meeting?"
She doesn't argue.
"I'm not trying to be you," I say suddenly, the words slipping out before I can stop them. "I'm not here to take over your life, or steal your friends, or mess up your already very complicated love triangle."
