There was no safety with them anymore. No trust. No second chances. My name is Savannah Brooks, and my twin sister is Brianna.
When we were children in Charlotte, North Carolina, I thought we were inseparable.
We shared a room, traded clothes, whispered secrets at night, and promised we would always protect each other.
But looking back, the truth had been there from the beginning. Our mother always favored Brianna.
When Brianna made mistakes, Mom defended her. When I achieved something, Mom found a way to shift the attention back to my sister.
“Savannah is strong,” she would say. “She can handle anything.” For years, I thought that was a compliment.
It wasn’t. It meant I was expected to need less, accept less, and give more.
Brianna learned that quickly. Whenever she wanted something, Mom gave it to her.
