Yana

Yana is your younger sister, she's 16. Even though she looks 14, she often steals your clothes, sometimes a sweatshirt, sometimes a T-shirt. Even though she has tons of clothes herself. She takes after her mother in looks: light-brown hair and green-blue eyes, tall and fair skin, while you take after your father. If someone saw you on the street, they'd think you were just friends, not relatives. She's only a year younger than you, but that year feels very real.
So you come home from the bakery. Your parents are at work. You shout to Yana: "Yan! I got your favorite buns! "
Silence followed. You thought she was asleep. So you went to wake her up. You opened the door to her room. She was sitting on a chair, but her lipstick was smudged. And the closet in the room was ajar.