Reconstructing Amelia (unedited)

Chapter 18

October 23rd, 2019

*Alan*

"I'm telling you," Harry argued as we jogged around the track. "Something's up with her," I shook my head.

"With Mia? No way," Harry scoffed.

"Face it, Alan, you hardly know her. Who's to say she's not hiding something?" I trained my eyes ahead of me, our feet thudding on the track in almost perfect unison. He was right: I barely knew Mia, and that bothered me.

"She's not hiding anything," I insisted.

"What's your obsession with her anyway? You met this girl three weeks ago and you're already clinging," Harry told me.

"I am not clinging," Harry shot me a look. "Okay, fine, I might be a little bit obsessive,"

"Yeah, but why? What's so special about her?" Harry pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Because," I answered. We began to slow our pace, eventually coming to a walk at our coach's whistle. "I'm pretty sure she's my sister," I whispered. His eyes widened.

"Holy shit dude, are you sure?"

"I'm like ninety-nine per cent sure," I confirmed. "I mean, she looks like my mom, she moved away when she was four - which is when we lost her - and we even have the same birthday. She told me herself," Harry's jaw dropped slightly.

"Have you told your brothers yet?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No, and I'm not going to," I snapped. Harry held his hands up in defence.

"Take it easy, it was just a question. But Cato could file for guardianship if it turns out to be her. Don't you want that?"

"Yeah, but we can't just spring that on her," I told him. "I want to gain her trust first," We headed towards the locker room. "Promise me you won't tell anyone," Harry frowned.

"Fine, I won't. But regardless, you still need to talk to her," he urged. "She's beat-up pretty bad, and I know it wasn't from Friday night," My heart clenched. I hadn't even noticed anything yesterday. I'd been keeping a bit of distance since the party incident. I felt completely responsible, and I felt bad.

"What?" I asked through gritted teeth. Harry nodded.

"Her wrist is sprained and she's got cuts and stitches all over her face," he explained as we entered the locker room. I angrily opened my locker, taking off my T-shirt and wiping down the sweat from my body before changing into black jeans, a hoodie, and my leather jacket.

"She said they were just scratches," Harry murmured. I scoffed.

"Yeah, 'scratches' my ass. I'll talk to her," I muttered.

***

I walked into psych class actually on-time for once, scanning around for Mia. She was sitting with Neo per usual but slid into her seat once Ms Brill started the lesson. I sat down next to her, leaning back in my seat. I watched her jotting down neatly handwritten notes into her journal, though not in English.

"You write in Italian?" I asked her. She glanced at me with a soft nod.

"Yes, it's easier for me to understand," Mia paused. "You're not taking any notes," she pointed out. I shrugged.

"Don't want to," She didn't reply, just gave me a disapproving look before returning to her work. I took this opportunity to study her, realising she indeed had a brace on her right wrist. She seemed to be writing perfectly fine with her left - as she did every day. Mia was a lefty - only furthering my evidence to her being my sister as I was a lefty myself. Her face also had several jagged cuts along with her temples and hairline, fixed with substandard sutures.

"What are you staring at?" Mia asked.

"I think you already know," I replied quietly. Her eyes widened slightly, shining with fear. Why was she suddenly so afraid? What was she hiding? "I talked to Harry earlier," I told her. Her hand froze, no longer taking notes.

"Whatever he told you isn't true," she whispered. I folded my arms over my chest.

"Oh yeah? So you expect me to believe those cuts were just happy little accidents?" I snapped.

"Yes," she snapped right back. Her tone took me aback a little. I'd never seen her angry before. "Let it go, Alan," she said hotly. I scowled.

"You know I won't," I told her. "So don't bullshit me and tell me what happened,"

"No," she answered, turning back to her work. I grit my teeth.

"Come on, Mia, I just want to know that you're safe,"

"I'm fine," Mia said, blatantly lying. "Don't ask me again," I was surprised at all of this newfound confidence. I guess when she got angry, she got defensive. I balled my fists, leaning closer to my desk.

"Tell me and I'll stop asking," I argued. We held each other's gaze for a minute before her expression finally softened.

"They're just scratches," she mumbled.

"I said don't bullshit me," I repeated darkly. Her body clenched and she shifted away from me. "Please Mia, I want to understand," She still didn't answer. "Did someone hurt you?" I studied her, watching for any signs she might show her reaction. Mia squirmed slightly, clearly uncomfortable.

"No," she whispered. I sighed.

"You're lying," I felt bad for interrogating her, but if someone was hurting my twin sister I wanted to know who.

"I'm not," She was sticking to her story. I glanced over at Neo, who was watching us bicker. I couldn't help but glare.

"Was it Neo?" I asked, seething. "I'll kill that damn snake if it was,"

"No, it wasn't Neo," she defended quickly. "I fell against a mantle and shattered a vase, is that what you want to hear?" Mia snapped darkly, her voice low.

"Is that the truth?" I demanded. She held my gaze, her green eyes blazing with anger.

"You tell me, Alan," We stared at each other for the longest time until I forced my expression to soften.

"Okay, I believe you," I muttered. I didn't, but this was as good I was going to get. But one thing was for sure: Mia was definitely hiding something.