He Loved Her Twin Sister,A Voiceless Betrayal

When my twin sister and I were born, one of us was mute and one was deaf.

At first, the whole family poured everything into treating us both.

But when my sister couldn't hear, she'd wail at the top of her lungs, and everyone rushed to soothe her.

I couldn't make a sound, so I just stood there, frantic and helpless, and everyone said I wasn't affectionate.

Later, my parents always found reasons to treat my sister first.

So little by little, as her treatments continued, she began to hear again, upgraded every year to the most advanced hearing aids.

And I waited and waited, until I went from being the mute one to the withdrawn child nobody liked.

After graduation, I brought my boyfriend, Leonard Gilbert, home for the first time.

Watching my sister in the living room, curled sweetly against our parents and chattering away, Leonard suddenly said:

"So this is what you sound like when you can talk. It's lovely."

My parents didn't so much as glance at me, but their mouths were full of complaints:

"That's just how she is. Never liked talking, even as a kid. You've really got it rough, Leonard."

My sister chimed in, all sugar:

"It's fine, sweetheart. My sister and I look exactly alike. If she won't talk, come to me whenever you want to hear something."

When Leonard didn't turn her down, my hand tightened around my chopsticks.

From then on, Leonard was always going to my sister under the excuse of wanting to see me talk.

Before bed, he'd get a goodnight voice message from her. When he was down, she was the one who comforted him.

At his birthday party, even the music on loop was my sister singing "Happy Birthday."

I signed at him, demanding answers, and he shoved me away.

"Florence Simmons, how long are you going to keep this act up? Your own family says you're just shy, but from the very start you lied to me and said you were mute."

My parents piled on from the side:

"Cora Simmons was born deaf. Fine, you don't feel sorry for her, but faking being mute all these years just to steal attention?"

The instant the slap landed, everything came into focus.

So it turned out that, over all those long years of waiting, even my own parents had forgotten I was mute.

I pressed a hand to my face in silence, not crying, not moving.

Seeing me look at him, Leonard signed at me.

What, did the slap knock the sense out of you?

Or are you going to say it made you deaf too, so everyone will baby you the way they baby your sister?

Florence Simmons, how did I never notice how scheming you are?

His hands moved fast, fluent, practiced.

When I first met Leonard, he'd chased after me relentlessly.

After he learned I was mute, he didn't recoil. He spent a solid month studying sign language, just so he could understand what I was saying.

Once he'd learned it, the first thing he signed to me was:

Florence Simmons, will you let me be your voice?

From then on, Leonard was always at my side, acting as my interpreter.

He'd coax me into making friends, into traveling, into going out to see this beautiful world.

But all the sincerity from when we fell in love had turned into a blade he now used against me.

He kept mocking me with his hands, over and over.

In his eyes now, I was nothing but a woman my family called a liar, one who spun lies just to steal attention.

Maybe he'd tired himself out, or maybe it was the sight of my tears, but in the end he relented:

"Enough. It's my birthday. Don't stand here spoiling it for me."

"I'm just angry that my own girlfriend won't even open her mouth to wish me happy birthday."

"Fine. Say it now, and I'll forgive you."

I couldn't help but lower my eyes, and everything beneath my feet blurred.

But Leonard, I want to speak too.

Yet when I opened my mouth, all that came out was a dry, rasping croak.

The music was still playing in the room, my sister singing, a world apart from the sound I could make.

Somewhere in the crowd of onlookers, a soft laugh slipped out.

My face burned. Without thinking, I turned to my parents, helpless, looking for something to hold on to.

But what came instead was my father's scolding.

"Are you done yet? It's Leonard's birthday, and you're standing here making that embarrassing noise. What is it you're trying to pull?"

My mother's eyes, too, landed on me full of disappointment.

"I raised you and Cora to carry yourselves with grace. Your sister is sick, and she manages it. You're perfectly healthy, and still you have to play the victim, fishing for pity."

"Florence, you really are a disappointment to me."

Their words pressed down on me, one after another, until my head bowed again.

Yes. When we were little, my sister smashed things around the house in a fit because she couldn't hear.

The grownups came running at the noise, and all they heard was my sister pushing the blame onto me.

"My sister did it. She was mocking me for not being able to hear."

"Mom, Dad, is Cora really never going to hear again for the rest of her life?"

My sister's voice was delicate, sweet to listen to.

And when everyone turned to look at me, all they could hear was the ugly, grating rasp scraping out of my throat.

In their eyes, that turned everything into guilt I could never argue my way out of.

So what exactly had I been hoping for? Hadn't they always trusted only what they themselves could hear?

I shoved the gift in my hand straight at Leonard, then turned and walked out.

Leonard's brows knit together.

He wanted to come after me, but my parents blocked him on either side.

"That's just how she is. The second she runs out of excuses, she loves to run away."

"It's your birthday. Let's just enjoy ourselves. Don't keep indulging her."

"I remember when she was little, we took her sister to the hospital and didn't bring her along, and she actually threw a fit and ran off from home."

"Not one of us went looking for her back then. In the end she came scampering home all on her own, didn't she?"

I waited at the door of the private room for ten minutes. Leonard never came out after me.

All at once I felt how absurd I was.

I stood in silence for a moment.

Then I took out my phone and started filling in the overseas transfer request.

I remembered Director Preston once mentioning that he had a doctor friend in Country A who specialized in treating deafness and muteness.

It happened to fitsend me over there, and I could get treatment while I worked.

But back then Leonard thought going abroad was dangerous and refused to let me go.

So it had been put off.

Now, without a shred of hesitation, I pressed send.

Goodbye. I'm going to find my own voice.

In the cab on the way home.

Director Preston approved my transfer request almost immediately.

Figured you'd come find me one of these days, so I got your paperwork ready ahead of time.

Soonest you could leave is tomorrow night. The project over there is pretty urgent, so remember to get your bags packed as fast as you can.

I was baffled. I'd only made up my mind about the transfer an hour ago.

Director Preston sounded surprised.

Leonard didn't tell you?

Last month he suddenly came to me asking about my doctor friend, and about the cost of the treatment too.

He seemed pretty serious about it, so I passed him my friend's contact info.

Reading the message on my phone, my heart lurched.

Last month was exactly when I'd brought Leonard home to meet my family for the first time.

A strange suspicion took shape in my mind.

I opened my chat history with Leonard to check it, and just then, in the company department group chat, I saw a video Leonard had posted.

In the video, Leonard, the birthday boy, stood surrounded by everyone as he made his wish.

The music behind it was my sister, standing beside Leonard, singing sweetly.

My coworkers piled on their well-wishes.

Happy birthday, Team Lead Gilbert!

Someone recognized the sister who wore the same face as mine, and asked:

Isn't that Florence?

So Florence can talk after all. This whole time I thought she was mute.

Her voice is actually this nice, and she's been going around acting mute all day? What's she playing at?

I wanted to explain, but the next message came from Leonard:

Florence just doesn't like to talk much. She wasn't trying to trick anyone.

I'm apologizing to everyone here on her behalf.

The words I'd already typed died right there, cut off cold by Leonard.

In the group chat, everyone praised Leonard for being such a stand-up man, half of them openly, half of them slyly mocking that I wasn't good enough for him.

He didn't push back on any of it.

Only Director Preston, the one who'd seen my medical records, messaged me privately:

Did you and Leonard have a fight?

And who's the girl in that video? Why does she look exactly like you?

I asked the director: How do you know that isn't me?

The director explained:

That girl was decked out head to toe in designer labels, and the hearing aid in her ear is the most expensive one on the market. There's no way that's you.

After all, you're the most frugal person in the whole company.

I know. You're saving up to fix your voice. Don't worry, that friend of mine is really good. You just go get your treatment with peace of mind, and I'll have him give you a friend's rate.

On my phone, the director's comforting messages kept coming, but my tears had already fallen.

In all these years, this was the first time anyone hadn't looked down on me for being cheap.

I used to always think my family wouldn't pay for my treatment because all the money went to my sister.

So from the time I was little, I was especially frugal.

I kept thinking that once I saved up enough for the treatment, Mom and Dad would take me to get it done.

But the first time I came across designer brands online, reality snuffed out that fantasy.

It turned out that a whole year of scraping by on plain rolls didn't add up to a single one of my sister's dresses.

The cost of one of my checkups couldn't even match a single hair clip on my sister's head.

So I became even more frugal.

I figured I'd earn the money myself and fix myself.

But Leonard always thought I was too cheap.

"We're still young. We should live a little. Why are you always pinching every penny?"

"Treatment? Your voice has been like this for years now. How could it ever be fixed?"

"Sweetheart, you've got me. What are you afraid of? I'll be your voice for the rest of your life."

He always coaxed me with sweet talk, wanting to lock me at his side.

Then he'd turn around and spend our paychecks on a pile of things he liked.

I quietly opened the bank account I'd hidden away, where the money I'd secretly kept from Leonard was sitting.

At least my sister's clothes had taught me one lesson.

They made me understand early on.

In this world, apart from yourself, there's no one you can't live without.

I opened the company group chat and posted my medical records from all these years.

I wasn't faking it. The girl singing in the video isn't me. It's my twin sister.

Typed, sent, all in one breath.

I switched off my phone, feeling the weight lift off me.

Just as I'd expected.

The next second, a video call came in from Leonard.

"Florence Simmons, you won't be happy until everyone knows your girlfriend was faking being mute, is that it?"

I looked at him on the screen and didn't move.

So there it was. He'd finally said what he really thought.

When we graduated from college, Leonard and I joined the same company.

The night before I started, he told me not to tell anyone I was mute.

I didn't understand, and this is how he put it:

"They're going to be coworkers we see every day. I don't want them looking at you like you're strange."

All you have to do is act cool and aloof. Everything else, I'll say for you.

Back then I didn't overthink it. I only took it as his way of caring for me.

Now I understand.

The man he'd become was no longer that bright, spirited boy from college.

He'd started finding me an embarrassment long ago.

When I said nothing, my father, standing beside Leonard, snapped at me:

Have you no manners? Leonard is speaking to you.

Is this how I raised you? To brush people off like they're beneath you?

From now on, don't tell people you're my daughter. I have no daughter like you.

He clutched his chest like I'd worked him into a fit, and my sister rushed over to hold him up.

Flora, it's all my fault. You're the one who's Leonard's girlfriend, and here I am stealing the spotlight.

If you're angry, take it out on me. Just please, don't upset Dad.

You're away all year, so you don't know. Dad's sick now. He can't handle these big emotional swings.

She was always like this, playing the dutiful daughter in front of our parents.

But she'd never once known hardship. Never lived through it.

After graduation, our parents handed her thousands a month to sit at home and live off them.

Meanwhile, by my junior year of college, the money from home had already stopped coming.

All these years I'd worked wherever I could. Take a single day off, and I might be the one cut.

I watched the harmonious little family on the screen in silence.

My sister and mother propped up my father while Leonard hovered nearby, pouring tea, fetching water.

What a warm, loving family. If only Leonard weren't my boyfriend.

My mother scolded me too:

Look at your sister, then look at yourself. How did I ever give birth to a daughter like you?

Since you're so heartless, don't bother coming back. From now on we only have one daughter, Cora.

With that, she hung up.

I packed my things until the small hours, and only then did Leonard come stumbling home, drunk.

My sister was the one holding him up.

The moment he saw me, Leonard whined:

Flora, why do you never think about how I feel?

Do you have any idea? Back in college, people around me were always mocking me for landing a mute girlfriend.

But I loved you, so I swallowed all of it alone. And now your own family tells me you were faking it. Do you know how much that hurts me?

He threw his arms around me and buried his head against my shoulder, nuzzling the way he used to.

But all I felt was disgust.

My sister coaxed me from the side:

Mom and Dad were just saying that in anger today. Don't take it to heart.

You and Leonard, work things out. He's a really good guy.

I ignored her. I pushed Leonard off me, then signed the question to him:

Did you open the birthday present I gave you?

He wasn't happy that I'd pushed him away. He brushed me off:

What present? Oh, that junky little gift box you mean. I don't even know where I put it.

It's always the same. You'd rather save a buck and give me some worthless handmade thing.

My eyes dimmed. I reached out and took his phone.

He didn't try to grab it back. He was always so at ease letting me go through his phone.

I tapped it open.

It didn't take long to find his chat history with the doctor overseas.

Just as I thought, every question was about ears. Not a single word about my voice.

In that moment, the draft from the doorway snapped me fully awake.

But Leonard always could sense the subtle shifts in my mood.

He instantly slipped into a fawning tone and asked:

Don't tell me our Flora got me something special this year?

I shook my head and signed back:

It's nothing. The usual.

If you don't like it, just toss it.

It was a lie. Inside was a ventriloquist recording I'd spent half a year secretly teaching myself off the internet.

I just wanted him to hear my voice.

But now.

I looked at the expensive watch on his wrist.

The one my sister had posted on her feed yesterday.

And my heart died completely.

Sure enough, he lost all interest at once and shuffled back to his room, collapsing straight into bed.

My sister still hadn't left.

But I could see the smugness in her eyes, the kind she only ever showed to me.

This time, I didn't argue with her about why she was doing this to me.

I asked her:

If you like him, just say so. Aren't you tired, keeping up the act all these years?