Reborn to Defy: The Spare Sister

My husband is holding my dying hand, but he is looking for my dead sister in my eyes.

The heart monitor screams a high, singular pitchthe soundtrack of my death.

Dean grips my fingers so tight I think they might snap, his face twisted in a panic that looks almost like love.

Almost.

You can't go, he chokes out, tears streaming down his face. "Blair, you promised. You can't leave me alone."

He isn't mourning his wife.

He isn't mourning the mother of the child we just lost.

He is mourning the failure of his mission.

For eight years, I was the consolation prize. The breathing, walking ghost of the girl he actually loved. I was the spare part meant to keep his promise to her alive.

As the darkness swallows me, I realize the cruelest joke of all: I spent a lifetime loving a man who was only ever taking care of his inventory.

Chapter 1

I thought I was dead.

But when my eyes snapped open, Dean was there.

He looked so young. The lines of grief hadn't carved themselves into his face yet.

"Blair," he said. "Be my girlfriend. Let me take care of you."

His tone was flat. Mechanical.

His eyes were blank slates. No nervous flutter. No anticipation.

This wasn't a confession of love.

It was the execution of a mission.

Because he didn't love me.

He loved my sister.

And Eve was dying.

The only thing tethering Eve to this world, the only thing she couldn't let go of, was me.

So Dean was taking on her burden. He was strapping me to his back. A weight he would carry for eight long years.

Looking at him now, a memory hit me. Our wedding day, years from now.

Tyler, his best friend, had cornered him. "Is this really necessary, man? Eve has been gone for five years. Are you seriously throwing your whole life away for a ghost?"

Dean had just stood there, wreathed in cigarette smoke.

"I promised her forever," he said, his voice scraping against the air. "Not a second less."

He had made a pact with my sister.

Don't worry. I will take care of Blair. Forever.

I let out a long, shaky breath.

In my last life, I followed the script everyone wrote for me. I played the part.

This time?

This time had to be different.

"Dean, no," I said. "I can take care of myself. You don't need to do this."

Dean froze. He hadn't calculated for a rejection.

His brows knitted together. A heavy, dark look settled over his face.

"Blair"

He started to argue, but I cut him off.

"I'm going to see Eve. Are you coming?"

Dean's thumb rubbed repeatedly against his middle finger. A nervous tic. He was dying for a cigarette.

"You go ahead," he said. "I'll be there in a bit."

I was eighteen again. Senior year.

College applications and finals were less than a year away.

In my previous life, I never made it to the exam room.

Because three months before graduation, Eve died.

Joyce went nuclear.

She shredded every textbook I owned. Ripped the pages out until the floor was covered in paper snow.

"Do you have no heart?" she screamed, her face twisted. "Eve is gone, and you're thinking about studying?"

"Eve is gone! Why are you still alive?"

She locked me in the house. Deadbolted the door from the outside.

"Eve's biggest regret was never going to college," she hissed through the wood. "If you can't save her, you aren't going to flaunt your future in her face while she's in heaven."

I actually thought she wanted to kill me back then.

She didn't just lock me in. She cut off the food. Then the water.

Dean was the one who eventually kicked the door down and dragged me out.

Honestly? I wasn't ready to face them. Not yet.

So I hid in the alcove of the hospital corridor, pressing my back against the cold wall. I waited until I saw Joyce leave Eve's room.

Only then did I step inside.

Dean was already there.

His expression darkened the moment he saw me. "Where have you been? Why are you late?"

I ignored him.

My gaze bypassed him completely and landed on the bed. On Eve.

A physical ache slammed into my chest. Heat surged up my throat, stinging my eyes.

Seven years. God, I missed her.

She swatted Dean's arm. A weak, playful hit. "Hey. Don't be mean."

Then she waved at me, her smile tired but radiant. "Blair, come here."

The words overlapped with a thousand memories echoing in my skull.

Blair, come here. I have candy for you.

Blair, come here. Let me read you a story.

Blair, come here. Don't be scared. I've got you.

Blair, come here. Let me hold you.

Blair I'm leaving. What is going to happen to my baby?

Chapter 2

I practically ran to her bedside.

My hands trembled as I wrapped them around her waist. She was so thin. Fragile.

I buried my face in her lap.

The dam broke.

Tears soaked into the hospital sheets as I sobbed, the sound low and broken. All the pain from my past life, all the resentment, it poured out of me.

"What's wrong? Blair, honey, what happened? Who hurt you?"

Her hands were instantly in my hair, stroking, soothing.

"Don't cry. Tell Eve what happened."

"I'm here. I've got you. I'm right here."

My name is Blair. Eve named me. To her, it meant open fields. Green grass. Vitality. Life.

I was born for her.

Eve was diagnosed with leukemia when she was six.

There are millions of patients waiting for stem cell transplants every year. The odds of finding a match? 0.03%.

Eve wasn't one of the lucky ones.

Desperate, the doctors suggested my parents have another child. Use the cord blood for a bone marrow match.

"The success rate is very high," the doctor said.

High. Not guaranteed.

But to my parents, "high" meant 100%.

They didn't hesitate.

Nine months later, I was born.

The anticipation in the delivery room was thick enough to choke on. Everyone was waiting for the savior baby.

But the match failed.

The transplant was a no-go.

I was useless.

The child born solely to save Eve was a dud.

Joyce hemorrhaged on the table. The trauma destroyed her body. She could never have another child.

Miraculously, six months later, they found a match in the public cord blood bank.

Eve was saved.

Thank God.

Otherwise, Joyce would have died too.

"If Eve dies, I can't live," she had said.

As for me?

Just a failed spare part.

Eighteen years ago, my cord blood failed.

Eighteen years later, my kidney failed to match.

Uremia.

Eve was dying again.

Eve shooed Dean out of the room.

She gently pried me from her lap, cupping my face to wipe away the tears.

"Is this about Dean?" she asked softly. "He told me he asked you out. And you said no."

"Blair don't you want him to take care of you?"

"You know he would be good to you."

Of course I knew.

In this world, if danger came knocking, Dean was the only one who would throw himself in front of me.

Since elementary school, he was my shadow. Rain or shine, he walked me home.

He'd cut class just to make sure I wasn't alone.

He fought for me. Literally.

"That's my sister," he'd snarl, knuckles bloody. "Touch her and you die."

I fell, he carried me.

I got sick, he nursed me.

I was hungry, he cooked.

Hell, he was the one who explained pads and tampons to me when I got my first period.

One night, drunk off cheap beer, he had poked my forehead, laughing. "I'm basically a dad without the fun part, huh?"

"I raised you, Blair," he slurred. "I raised you."

And he was right.

I knew his kindness wasn't just because of Eve. He genuinely saw me as his little sister.

"Dean is my brother, Eve," I choked out. "I love him as a brother."

Chapter 3

Eve studied me, her gaze heavy.

"Blair," she said gently. "A brother can't take care of you forever. Only a partner can."

I looked down, avoiding her eyes. "But he is my brother."

A long silence stretched between us before she sighed.

"Maybe I'm pushing too hard."

"It's okay. You guys can take your time. Dean will always look out for you, no matter what."

I mumbled a non-committal response.

"Eve," I said, changing the subject. "Can I come see you every day?"

Her eyes lit up instantly, bright with hope. But then, just as quickly, the light faded.

"Don't worry about it," she said, forcing a smile. "Just focus on school."

Joyce and Paul hated me visiting.

"Why are you going?" Joyce would snap. "To upset her? Do you think she wants to see you running around, healthy and alive, while she's stuck in that bed?"

Eve always said she wanted to see me.

But my parents never believed her.

To them, Eve's love for me was just her being a martyr. A sacrifice they refused to accept.

"Ugh, your grades though" She poked my forehead. "Kiddo, are you even going to get into college?"

My grades were trash. Or at least, they looked that way on paper.

I shrank back, grinning. "Which college do you want me to go to?"

"The best one, obviously!" she blurted out.

Then she caught herself. "I mean do your best. Don't stress yourself out. Whatever you can get into is fine."

Before I could reply, the door swung open.

"Eve!"

The voice was familiar. And terrifyingly foreign.

Familiar, because it was Joyce.

Foreign, because I hadn't heard it in six years.

Joyce kept her promise in my last life.

Without Eve, she couldn't survive.

She lasted a year. Then she swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills.

When I heard the news, I felt blank.

I didn't know how to grieve her.

Because she was never really my mother. She was just Eve's.

Now, she walked right past me. Like I was air.

She rushed to the bed, fussing with the pillows, adjusting the height.

Her voice dropped to a soft, frantic coo. "Why are you sitting up? Lay back down. You need to rest."

"Mom, I'm fine!" Eve laughed, exasperated. "I thought you went home to cook? Why are you back so soon?"

"Dad called," Joyce said, smoothing Eve's hair. "He's bringing food."

"Dad's back from his trip?"

"Mhm. Brought you presents."

"That's great! Blair is here too, so we can all have dinner together"

"Dean," Joyce cut in, her voice cool and polite as she turned slightly. "Thank you for visiting Eve. But she needs her rest now. You should both go."

She never even looked at me. Not once.

Chapter 4

I was used to being invisible.

But this? This rejection, pointed and cold, made the air in the room too thin to breathe.

My lungs burned. My feet were rooted to the linoleum.

Then, warmth.

A large hand engulfed my clenched fist.

Dean.

"Joyce," he said, his voice level but firm. "I'm taking Blair home."

I knew my parents didn't love me. I knew it before I could walk.

Before them, it was the grandparents. The Old Folks. They didn't want me either.

Maybe because I was never taught what love felt like, I never expected it when I came back to this house.

Joyce had rules. A lot of them.

No bright colors. No pretty dresses.

No snacks. Only meals.

No laughing.

No good grades.

We shared the same blood, but if Eve was suffering, Blair had to suffer too. Otherwise, it wasn't fair.

"What's going on with you today?" Dean asked, his eyes scanning my face as we walked to his car.

I shook my head. "Dean can I move in with you?"

Dean had his own place now. He'd offered before, but I always said no.

I knew the whispers that would follow. The scandal.

But this time? Let them talk.

Dean stopped walking.

"Blair," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "What happened? Did someone hurt you?"

"Can I?" I pressed, ignoring the question.

He looked at me for a long time, searching for cracks in my armor. Finally, he sighed.

"Let's go. We'll get your stuff."

"My stuff" was pathetic. Just textbooks and a few worn-out shirts.

Dean frowned as I packed, his jaw tight. When we got back to the car, he didn't start the engine immediately.

"We're going to the mall."

"Okay," I said quietly. "Thanks, Dean."

His expression softened instantly. "Let's go get our girl some pretty clothes."

He went all out. Dresses, skirts, tops. Then Korean BBQ. Then a grocery run that filled his cart with snacks and toiletries.

It felt easy. Safe.

In my last life, after I said yes to his confession, this ease vanished.

We didn't know how to transition from "brother and sister" to lovers. It was awkward. Strained.

He was always meant to be my brother.

The next day, I wore one of the new dresses to the hospital.

Eve's eyes went wide.

"Wow!"

"You look beautiful, Blair!"

"Dean bought this? Man has good taste!"

She grabbed my hand, pulling me closer. Then, conspiratorially, she reached under her pillow and pulled out a box of chocolates.

Just like last time.

"Here," she whispered. "Eat it. I heard this brand is amazing."

In my last life, I didn't eat it.

The guilt Joyce had drilled into me was too strong. I never ate in front of Eve.

I took the box home instead.

Joyce found it.

The memory of the slap still stung. The sound of it cracking against my cheek.

"Are you going to die if you don't eat?" she had screamed, tears streaming down her face. "You made Eve lie to your father to get this? Do you know that one box costs the same as a dialysis session? We are drowning in debt, and you're buying candy?"

Chapter 5

The memory of the slap didn't sting anymore.

I unwrapped a chocolate.

Popped it into my mouth.

It melted. Rich. Dark. Sweet.

"It's good," I said, grinning at Eve. "Really good."

She beamed. "I'll give the rest to Dean. You can ask him for one whenever."

"No," I said. "Keep them here. With you."

"But"

"Eve," I cut in. "I want to switch to independent study."

Her smile vanished. "What? Did something happen at school?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I just want to be here. With you."

"You can come after school."

"Not enough."

Eve's expression softened into something painful.

"Blair," she said, her voice strained. "You need to live your own life. Go to college. Get out of this house. Mom and Dad are here. I'm fine."

"Just six months," I insisted. "I'll self-study. I'll still take the SATs." I forced a laugh. "I'll even get a perfect score for you. Deal?"

She didn't laugh.

"Blair, seriously. What is going on? You're scaring me."

What is going on?

That was the question of the week.

I looked down at my hands.

"I just I want to be with you. Every day. I want to take care of you."

Silence.

Then, her grip on my hand tightened.

"Okay," she whispered. "We'll be together every day."

Joyce showed up faster than we expected.

Her eyes landed on the new dress. Her face darkened instantly.

But she pasted on a smile for Eve. "Eve, honey, rest for a bit. I need to talk to Blair."

Eve didn't let go of my hand. "About what? What happened?"

"Nothing. Don't worry." She turned to me, the smile dropping like a stone. "Blair. Outside."

"No," Eve said firmly. "Talk here."

"Eve, be good," Joyce said, her tone hardening. "Blair, let's go. Don't disturb your sister."

Eve opened her mouth to argue, but I squeezed her hand.

"What is it, Mom?" I asked, my voice steady. "My moving out? Visiting Eve? Or maybe the new dress?"

"Blair!" Joyce hissed. "You're a child. Moving in with a man? Have you no shame?"

"Mom!" Eve cried. "What are you saying? That's Dean! He's her brother!"

"Brother?" Joyce scoffed. "Is he blood?"

"No," I said. "But I'm staying with him. And I've already filed the paperwork. I'm going to be here every day to take care of Eve."

"Absolutely not!" Joyce's voice shrieked, cracking with hysteria. "You are moving back home! You are going to school! Eve is sick, and you're pulling these stunts?"

I met her gaze. Calmly.

"I'm not asking for permission, Joyce. I'm informing you."

"Blair! What the hell are you doing