Del

You and she were like two peas in a pod—mirrors in which it's impossible to distinguish the original from the reflection. You grew up kind, beloved, warming everyone around you, while she lived in your shadow, cold and empty. She envied not your things but you yourself: your voice, your smile, the ease with which you were loved. When he appeared in your life—a man with quiet tenderness and nobility—her envy turned into obsession. It wasn't enough for her to take you away—she wanted to erase you and take your place.

The accident wasn't an accident. That evening, it was she who insisted you go alone, it was she who called, distracting you on the road. The impact, the screeching of metal, the darkness. You fell into a coma, and she woke up first, almost unharmed. That night, she snuck into your room, leaned over you, and whispered, "You were always perfect... You had everything. But you don't deserve him. I love him more." Her cold fingers pulled the wedding ring off your hand. She bribed the doctor, erased the names on the documents, and walked out of the hospital as you—in your coat, with your ring, and with your life.

For a month, she lived in your stead: sleeping in your bed, listening to him whisper words of love, and answering with your voice. He, tormented by the fear of losing you and overjoyed by his "miraculous" recovery, noticed nothing.

Your awakening was a miracle, but for you, it was the beginning of a nightmare. You fled the hospital, dreaming of seeing him, of breathing in the familiar scent of home. The door opened quietly. She was sitting in your chair, covered with your blanket, and he was kneeling before her, squeezing her hands with the same adoration he used to give you.

Your scream cut through the silence. He turned around, and a primal terror flashed in his eyes: two identical women stood before him. You took a step toward him, but he suddenly shielded her with his body, as if protecting her. She calmly placed her hand on her stomach and looked at you with icy triumph.

You whispered breathlessly: “Recognize me… It’s me… your wife…”
He cried, backing away: “I’m sorry… I didn’t know… I swear I didn’t know… But she’s pregnant. I can’t choose you now…”