Me vs. My Sister's Plot Armor

[With Tristan around, Willa doesn't even need Selene]

[No, no, no, isn't Selene's whole thing dropping cheat codes for Willa?]

[Let's not forget, Willa's Pocket Space used to be Selene's]

[So Willa's just a straight-up thief now?]

[Lowkey feeling bad for Selene here]

[You don't gotta be so mean. The Sorrells adopted her and raised her—she owes Willa]

...

Heh.

Took me long enough, but the Chat Feed finally clicked. I was never the Sorrells' real kid. They found me on the street.

No wonder they treated me like a charity case.

All that "older siblings should give way" crap? That "big sisters must take care of the little ones" stuff from them?

Yeah. That was just for me. Straight-up brainwashing.

I smashed a zombie's skull like a baseball and blew out a breath.

Then I ran to Willa and held out my hand. Her shock flashed for half a second.

"Hurry, come with me!"

"No!" She smacked my hand like it burned. "If you won't save HIM, I'm not going!"

"Cool. Stay then. I'll get help." I spun and took off.

What kind of idiot sticks around to fight a zombie buffet?

"Wait—what?" Willa's voice cracked. "Selene? Selene! Get back here!"

I didn't even glance back.

The zombies were gaining.

Willa hesitated, her lip caught between her teeth. She looked down at Pretty Boy like she was torn.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I'll go with Selene. She needs me too. I don't want her to worry."

Then she bolted after me without looking back once.

We made it home one after the other.

The second we walked in, she turned on me in front of everyone. "Selene, that was heartless! You just stood there and let him die!"

***

I waved them over to the window.

"Ah! Zombies!" someone gasped, totally losing it.

"What the hell happened?" Panic hit fast as they spotted the swarm closing in.

"Selene? What did you do? You didn't clear them—how'd you end up dragging more here?" barked Miranda, an old granny with her hands planted on her hips.

"Yeah, Willa never freaks out like this. You must've really screwed up," some guy from the couple added.

I just arched a brow.

Willa's little strays—of course they had her back.

Still...

My lips twitched into a cold, slow smile.

I dropped the bags with a heavy thud.

Every head snapped my way.

"Anyway, enough chatting. Let's split the supplies," Miranda said, eyes practically glowing as she reached out.

Willa was faster.

"Hmph, like passing out stuff erases what you did. Cold as ever," she scoffed, already clutching a bag.

I kicked it out of her reach. "Who said you could touch that?"

"What?" She blinked at the black boot mark smeared across her hand like it was fake.

"You're bullying Willa! I'll beat you up!" Perry, Miranda's grandson, came barreling in like an angry toddler.

I drop-kicked him back without blinking.

The boy flew back a solid two meters and slammed into the floor.

"Waaahhh..." He rolled around sobbing like I'd shattered his whole life.

"Keep it down or I'll toss you to the zombies," I said, ice-cold.

Naturally, the brat just wailed louder.