We decided to switch places to teach her husband a lesson.
Outwardly, we were almost identical. Same hair, height, voice, even appearance. Unless I knew each other well, it was impossible to tell us apart. That's why the plan worked.
I arrived at her house as if I were my sister. I acted calm and quiet, just like she always did. But inside, everything was different. I wasn't afraid anymore. My sister's husband noticed almost immediately.
At first, he simply stared at me longer than usual, as if trying to figure out what was wrong. Then he started to dwell on details. He had positioned the cup incorrectly. He had answered incorrectly. He had used the wrong tone.
"Have you completely lost control?" he asked abruptly.
My twin sister came to visit me one night, her face covered in bruises. After learning it was her husband, we decided to switch places and teach him a lesson he'd never forget.
It was raining again outside. It had been raining for several days now, making everything around me gray and sticky. I was sitting in the kitchen, mechanically stirring my now-cold tea and thinking of anything to escape that nagging uneasiness.
The doorbell rang suddenly. The cat writhed and jumped off the windowsill. I immediately froze. No one comes to me at this hour without a reason.
I looked through the peephole and froze. Emma was standing on the landing. My sister. Her hair was wet, her raincoat hastily thrown over her robe, her face pale. Even through the fogged glass, it was clear that something bad had happened.
I opened the door. When she entered the apartment, the light shone on her face, and I felt my stomach lurch. One eye was barely open, with a dark bruise spreading around it. She had a fresh cut on her cheek and chapped lips. She was trying to resist, but it was difficult.
I helped him take off his coat and only then did I notice his hands. His wrists were bruised, as if someone had grabbed them and wouldn't let go. An all-too-familiar sight.
“Is that him?” I asked softly. “Your husband?”
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