Stolen Life: The Heavy Revenge

I swapped souls with the poorest, heaviest girl in the entire school.

To keep our cover until we could switch back, we shared every detail of our lives. Every secret.

Then one day, she vanished.

Ten years later, she resurfaced as the CEO's wife, nestled in the arms of Harrisonthe boy who once swore on his life he would marry me.

She thinks wearing my skin makes her a swan. But she forgot one thing.

The rotting stench of a demon carries for miles.

Chapter 1

Day fifteen as Becky.

The mirror still triggered a gag reflex.

My reflection was a landscape of flesh. Rolls of fat cascaded down my frame. My skin was dark and slick with oil. Greasy bangs hung in matted clumps, completely obscuring my left eye.

The right eye wasn't doing much better. The cheek meat pushed up so high it reduced my vision to a narrow, blurry slit.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to scrub away the feeling of foreign skin, and scrambled for the door.

"Honey, breakfast!" Susan, Becky's mom, hobbled after me. Her bad leg dragged across the pavement as she tried to shove a plastic grocery bag filled with food into my hands.

I skidded to a halt, grabbed the bag, stuffed it into my backpack, and sprinted for the bus stop.

Sprint might be a generous word.

Becky stood five-foot-six and weighed nearly two hundred and twenty pounds. I pushed every muscle to its limit, but my pace barely exceeded a fast walk.

A simple jog felt like dying. My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird. My chest tightened. Oxygen refused to enter my lungs.

How did Becky survive gym class without cardiac arrest?

I squeezed onto the bus, my oversized t-shirt already plastered to my back with sweat.

"Excuse me. Sorry."

I collapsed into the very last seat.

The guy sitting by the window immediately recoiled. He pinched his nose, his face twisting in exaggerated disgust.

I knew him. He was one of my orbiters. For the last three months, he had spent every morning trying to hand-deliver gourmet breakfasts to meto Fallon.

But now? He pressed himself against the cold glass, terrified that my arm might graze his hoodie.

"God, you reek. Disgusting."

Becky's body was a furnace. It was summer, and I was drowning in my own perspiration.

I looked down. Dark, wet patches had already bloomed on the collar and armpits of my yellow shirt. I shrank into myself, pulling my shoulders in, trying to occupy zero space.

No wonder Becky wore a jacket even in July.

Tears pricked my eyes as I remembered the whispers, the locker room giggles I used to ignore.

I wiped my face.

I had to fix this. Before I got my body back, I was going to help Becky shed this weight.

Chapter 2

The panic attacks were finally subsiding.

Two weeks in this heavy, foreign body, and the screaming in my head had quieted to a dull roar.

I owed that sanity to Becky. Specifically, the real Becky, currently living her best life in my sculpted, size-zero body.

She texted me constantly. Reassuring me.

"We will fix this, Fallon. Just hold on. We are in this together."

Warmth unfurled in my chest.

I used to look right through her.

Becky was the ghost of the hallway. The girl who ate alone in the bathroom stalls. The smudge on the pristine glass of our elite academy.

If IFallonwas the untouchable moon high above, Becky was the mud everyone wiped their boots on.

But under that silence? She was kind.

Two weeks of shared trauma had bonded us tighter than blood. Best friends by necessity.

I burst into the classroom, lungs wheezing like a broken accordion, just as the bell screamed. I collapsed into my seat in the back row.

The Leper Colony. That was where Mr. Kraft put us. Right next to the trash can.

This school was a playground for the one percent. Old money, new money, tech money.

Then there was us. Me (currently the scholarship kid's daughter) and Silas.

Silas was here on an athletic scholarship. Dirt poor. Just like Becky. Usually, he slept. Becky stared at the wall. An unspoken truce of invisibility.

Today, I broke it.

"Silas." I shoved two hard-boiled eggs and a carton of milk onto his desk. "Eat these."

My diet started now.

Becky's parents, Susan and Hank, were poor, but they compensated with calories. They loved her to death and proved it by stuffing her face. Breakfast was a feast: six eggs, two milks, five massive sausage biscuits.

I was drowning in carbs.

Silas cracked one eye open. He looked at the eggs, then at me. A slow, lazy smirk spread across his face.

"Becky. You got a crush on me or something?"

I gave him my best *are you serious* deadpan.

Silas and Harrison. The school's Twin Stars.

Harrison was the Golden Boy. The Prince.

Silas? Silas was the storm.

He had that dangerous, jagged edge. Sun-bronzed skin, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, and eyebrows that always looked like a challenge. He was undeniably gorgeous.

But in a way that screamed Red Flag.

Chapter 3

"Relax. I'm not into guys." I took a sip of milk and tossed a foil-wrapped breakfast sandwich at his chest. "I'm cutting calories. Hate to see good food go to waste. Consider it a perk of sitting in the splash zone."

Silas was an orphan. His parents died in a car crash back in middle school, leaving him with his grandparents. The rumor mill said they scraped by collecting cans and scrap metal just to keep him enrolled here.

He was a teenage athlete burning five thousand calories a day. He was always starving. During quiet reading time, his stomach growls sounded like angry thunder.

The lazy smirk vanished. Silas looked at me. Actually looked at me.

"Right. I guess I'm doing charity work today."

He tore into the sandwich.

I finished the milk and glanced at the front row.

My seatFallon's seatwas empty.

The bell was seconds away. Becky was never late.

In the two weeks since the swap, she hadn't missed a second. Was she sick?

I slipped my phone out. Texted my old number. Nothing.

I dialed. Straight to voicemail.

A sharp kick to my shin.

I jumped. Silas jerked his chin toward the front. Mr. Kraft was patrolling. I shoved the phone deep into my bag just as his shadow fell over our desk.

Homeroom was a blur of anxiety.

Last night, Becky had been manic, texting me until 2 AM.

"I found a way, Fallon. We're swapping back this week. I promise."

The second the bell rang, I bolted. I cornered Mr. Kraft at his desk.

"Mr. Kraft. Fallon. Why isn't she here?"

He blinked, light reflecting off his shiny scalp. He looked confused that Beckythe class stainwas asking about the class princess.

"She transferred."

The summer sun streamed through the window, but my blood turned to ice.

"Transferred?"

Mr. Kraft pushed his glasses up his nose.

"The whole family moved to Europe. The paperwork was finalized last week. Her friends threw a going-away party on Friday. I assumed everyone knew."

His mouth kept moving, but the sound cut out.

The floor rushed up to meet me.

The last thing I saw was Silas launching himself over his desk, reaching for me.

Chapter 4

"Hey, kid. You back with us?"

I pried my eyes open. White walls. White curtains. White sheets. Clinical purgatory.

Ms. Gable, the school nurse, hovered over me, her face soft with worry.

"Heat exhaustion. It's brutal out there. Drink this." She pressed a cup of electrolytes into my hand.

I sat up. The room tilted on its axis. My brain felt like it was packed with cotton.

Then the memory slammed into me.

Becky. Becky took my body to Europe.

She didn't just transfer. She hijacked my existence and fled the continent.

I scrambled off the cot, stumbling toward the door. My vision whited out. Static screamed in my ears.

"Whoa, easy!" Ms. Gable caught my shoulders, forcing me back down. "Where is the fire? I already excused you from class. You walk out there now, you're going to faceplant on the asphalt. Rest."

I choked back a sob. Panic clawed at my throat.

I couldn't rest. I had to find her. I had to scream until someone listened.

I ignored the nausea rolling in my gut. I shoved my feet into my sneakers and lurched for the exit.

Ms. Gable grabbed my arm. "Fallon, stop!"

"I have to go."

I yanked my arm free and stumbled into the hallway.

"Teenagers," I heard her mutter behind me. "The pressure is going to kill this generation."

I burst out of the infirmary and made a beeline for the school gate. I must have looked like a walking corpse because Officer Dan, the security guard, stepped right in my path.

"Whoa there. Your folks picking you up? You look like death warmed over. I can't let you walk out solo looking like that."

"My dad is right outside," I lied, forcing the words through numb lips.

I didn't wait for him to check. I slipped past him, sprinted through the pedestrian gate, and threw myself into the back of a passing taxi.

Chapter 5

My house sat in the heart of the Golden Hills, the most exclusive gated community in the city.

By the time the taxi idled at the curb, I realized my pockets were light. I had crumbled bills totaling maybe ten bucks. The fare was twenty.

Al, the driver, saw the panic in my eyes. He glanced at the sprawling estates beyond the gate, then back at my ragged clothes.

"Forget it, kid," he grunted, waving a hand. "On the house."

I didn't have the breath to thank him. I scrambled out and ran.

The wrought-iron gates were locked. I skirted the perimeter, squeezed through a gap in the hedge, and dropped into the manicured garden.

I pressed my face against the living room window.

My heart stopped.

White sheets.

They were everywhere. Draped over the sofas. Covering the dining table. Shrouding the six-foot teddy bearmy favorite possessionlike a corpse.

The house was a tomb.

It was 9:00 AM. Martha should have been vacuuming the rugs. The chef should have been blending my kale smoothie.

Silence.

They were gone. They were actually gone.

I collapsed onto the cold stone steps of the porch. My mind went blank. Static filled the void.

Cornelius and Meredithmy parentswere titans of industry. Workaholics. I was raised by the payroll.

Nanny Lupe attended the parent-teacher conferences. The housekeeper bandaged my scraped knees. I saw my parents maybe twice a year. They knew their executive assistants' coffee orders better than they knew my eye color.

Phone. Right. I could call them.

My fingers trembled as I punched in my fathers private number.

"We're sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service."

Disconnected.

No.

I dialed again. My fingernails dug into my palm.

"We're sorry. The number"

I tried my mother. Straight to voicemail.

Who else? Who was left?

My grandparents lived in Switzerland. Moms family was all back in London. Both my parents were only children. I had no aunts. No uncles. No cousins.

I was alone in this city.

I sat there, pulling at the loose threads of Beckys cheap jeans, hyperventilating.

I couldn't let Becky steal my life. I couldn't let her erase me. I needed an anchor. I needed someone who knew me.

Harrison.

I slapped my forehead. Stupid. I could find Harrison!

Chapter 6

Harrison lived three streets over. We had been inseparable since kindergarten.

Sandbox sweethearts.

We used to play house in his backyard, staging elaborate weddings with candy rings. His mother adored me. She used to jokehalf-seriousthat she was just waiting for us to turn eighteen so she could plan the real ceremony.

I wiped the grime from my face and sprinted toward his estate.

The front doors were wide open. Inside, a crew of staff moved with efficient urgency. They paused when I barreled in. Eyes widened. They saw a trespasser. A heavy, sweating girl in cheap clothes standing in their pristine marble foyer.

"Can I help you?" Lupe, wiping down a leather sofa, straightened up, a rag in her hand.

"I I'm looking for Harrison."

The words tasted stupid as soon as they left my mouth. It was a Tuesday morning. He should be in AP History. Why was I here?

"Harrison transferred to a boarding school in Europe last week," the woman said, her brow furrowing. "Are you a classmate?"

Gravity doubled.

My knees gave out. I hit the floor hard.

He was gone. Harrison was gone too.

"Miss? Are you alright?"

I didn't hear her. I stumbled back out the door, moving like a zombie.

I pulled out my phone. My hands shook so hard I almost dropped it.

One last hope. I dialed his number. The ringback tone felt like it lasted a century.

"Hello?"

"Harrison! It's me! It's Fallon!" My voice cracked. I almost jumped out of my skin. He was my best friend. He would know. He had to know.

"Becky?"

There was a pause.

Becky might have looked like a wreck, but she sounded like an angel. Her voice was her only weaponclear, melodic, like water flowing over smooth stones.

"I look like Becky, but I'm Fallon! We swapped bodies! It's like some twisted movie, but it's real! I"

"Becky," Harrison cut me off. His sigh was heavy with pity. "I know your life is hard. But delusions aren't the answer. You need professional help."

"What?"

"Fallon warned me about this," he said, his voice dropping to a protective low. "She told me you're obsessed with her. That you fantasize about living her life. That you actually believe you are her sometimes."

My blood ran cold.

"That's one of the reasons she agreed to come to Europe with me. To get away from you."

"No" I whispered.

"I don't know how you got this number, but I'm changing it today. Do not contact Fallon again. Take care of yourself."

Click. The line went dead