The Face He Stole From His Brother: I Fell For The Wrong Twin

The text was only four words.

*It's Kian. Save this.*

I stared at it for a long time. Then I saved it, turned off my phone, and slept in my ruined dress.

---

By noon the next day, I had a list. My laptop charger. My grandmother's ring, in the dish by his sink. Three work blazers. My silk pajamas. The good knife set I'd bought with my own money.

I knocked this time. I didn't use the key.

Damon opened the door in sweatpants, like nothing had happened. His hair was damp. He smelled like his cedar body wash, the one I'd picked out for him.

"Hey," he said. Soft. Relieved. "I knew you'd come back."

"I'm here for my stuff."

"Sure you are." He leaned on the frame and filled the doorway with his shoulder. "Lila, come on. You made your point last night. Big, dramatic point. I got it."

"Good. Then move."

"You're still mad. That's fine. Be mad inside, where it's warm."

"I'm not *mad*, Damon. I'm leaving."

He smiled like I'd told a cute joke. "You've left before."

That one landed. Last spring, I'd packed a bag after he forgot my mother's surgery. I made it to my car. He showed up with flowers an hour later, and I unpacked by dinner.

I shoved past his arm. He let me, which was worse. It meant he thought it didn't matter.

Then I stopped in the middle of the living room.

She was on the couch. The blonde. She had her bare feet tucked under her and a mug of coffee in both hands.

She was wearing my pajamas. Pale blue silk, with my initials stitched on the pocket.

"Oh," she said brightly. "It's you."

"Those are mine."

"Are they?" She glanced down at the pocket. Then she looked back up, and her mouth curled. "L.R. I thought it stood for something cute."

"Take them off."

"Right now? In front of Damon?" She giggled. "Sweetie, he's seen it."

My face went hot. I walked to the bathroom, yanked my blazers off the hook, and stuffed them into my tote. I grabbed my charger from the outlet. My hands were steady. That surprised me.

When I came back out, she'd moved. She was leaning against the kitchen island now, right next to the dish where my ring should be.

The dish was empty.

"Where's my grandmother's ring?"

"Babe," Damon called from the door. "Relax. It's somewhere safe."

"Where, Damon?"

"I'll give it to you when you calm down."

The blonde sipped her coffee. "Can I ask you something?" She tilted her head, all sugar. "Last night. On the stairs. Did you actually know which one you were kissing?"

"Brianna," Damon warned, but he was grinning.

"No, I'm curious." She set the mug down. "Because if you can't even tell your boyfriends apart, maybe the problem isn't him."

Something in my chest went cold and flat.

I didn't yell. I didn't throw her coffee. I took my phone out of my pocket, turned it on, and pressed the newest contact.

He picked up on the first ring.

"Lila."

"Come get me," I said. "Your brother won't let me leave."

Damon's grin dropped right off his face.

There was a pause on the line. Then Kian's voice came back, low and even.

"Ten minutes. Don't touch anything sharp."

He hung up.

"You called *him*?" Damon pushed off the door frame. "You called Kian? Over a ring?"

"Over you." I sat down on the arm of his couch and crossed my legs. "I'll wait."

---

It took him eight minutes.

The knock wasn't loud. Two raps, spaced out. Damon didn't move to answer it, so I did. He caught my wrist halfway across the room.

"Don't."

"Move your hand, Damon."

He held on. Behind me, Brianna had gone quiet for the first time all day.

The door opened anyway. Damon had never locked it.

Kian stood in the hallway in a black coat. No helmet today. His eyes went to Damon's fingers around my wrist and stayed there.

He didn't say a word.

Damon released me like my skin had burned him.

"Unbelievable," Damon said. He laughed and dragged a hand through his wet hair. "You really came running. You know what this is, right? Tell me you're not that stupid."

"Enlighten me," Kian said.

"She's using you." Damon pointed at me without looking at me. "That's all this is. She's pissed at me, so she grabbed the closest thing that looks like me. You're a revenge prop, Kian. A cardboard cutout of your own brother."

Kian turned to me. His face didn't change. He was waiting.

I could have lied. It would have been easy.

"Yes," I said. "I did it on purpose."

Brianna snorted into her coffee.

Damon spread his hands, triumphant. "There it is. Thank you. She *said* it."

"I'd do it again," I added. "In front of you. Every time."

Kian's eyes stayed on mine. Then, of all things, he laughed. Quiet, under his breath, like I'd surprised him in a good way.

He stepped past Damon and took the tote bag off my shoulder. He picked up the box of knives from the counter and tucked it under his arm.

"Then you'd better stay mad a long time," he said.

He held out his free hand.

I looked at it for one second. Then I put my hand in his. His fingers were warm and dry, and they closed over mine without squeezing.

"Wait," I said. "My ring."

Kian didn't look away from me. "Damon."

"It's hers when she comes to her senses."

"Damon." Kian's voice didn't rise. It just got heavier. "Mom's ring. Pearl setting. You know which one."

Damon went still.

I turned and stared at Kian. I had never told him what the ring looked like.

Damon dug into his sweatpants pocket and slapped the ring down on the counter. Kian picked it up and set it in my palm. He closed my fingers over it the same way he'd closed them over my keys last night.

Then he walked me out.

---

The hallway felt a mile long. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

Kian pressed the elevator button. The numbers above the door crawled. Seven. Six.

Behind us, a door banged open.

"Lila!"

Bare feet slapped the carpet. Damon was running. In two years, Damon had never once run after me. Not out of a restaurant, not to my car, not anywhere. He'd always waited for me to come back.

He skidded to a stop three feet from us, breathing hard.

"Don't get in that elevator."

The doors slid open with a soft chime.

Kian stepped in first. He didn't drop my hand.

"Lila, listen to me." Damon's voice cracked down the middle. "You don't know who he is. You don't know what he did."

I stepped in beside Kian. "Then tell me."

Damon's eyes went to his brother. Something passed between them, something old and ugly.

He opened his mouth.

The doors began to close.

"Ask him," Damon said, "why Mom still won't say his name."