They Swapped Me Away, Then Begged Me to Return Chapter 03

They Swapped Me Away, Then Begged Me to Return Chapter 03

No one bothered to answer my question.

Evan’s outstretched hand hovered mid-air, then slowly fell back to his side.

I grabbed the milk mug and retreated into the study.

The narrow folding cot dug into my back, and the hives on my wrist stung against the warm ceramic.

I suddenly ached to call my best friend Hannah.

For the past year, everyone in my family had orbited the other Leah, and only Hannah had ever stopped to listen to me.

Last Christmas Eve, while my parents video-called the alternate Leah for their holiday dinner, she’d sat with me on a convenience store curb eating hot dogs.

She’d told me, “If this place ever gets too unbearable, come stay with me.”

I tapped her profile and held down the voice record button, sobbing for a full sixty seconds before I let go.

The second I lifted my thumb, a bright red exclamation mark popped up on screen.

I stared blankly for ages, then checked every group chat we’d shared—our college dorm group, work vent group, dinner planning group. I’d been removed from every single one.

I dialed Hannah’s number. She sent the call straight to voicemail the first time, the second, the third, the fourth. On the fifth ring, she finally picked up.

A bitter, cold laugh crackled through the speaker. “Why are you even calling me, Leah?”

My throat tightened shut. “Hannah, it’s really me.”

“I know it’s you.” Her voice shook with anger, sharp and frigid.

“You said it yourself—you’re about to step into some fancy upgraded life, and you don’t want us regular old friends dragging you down. You leaked every private secret we ever told each other into the group chat last night.”

I went rigid all over. “I didn’t do that.”

“You sent it yourself last night.”

“You ranted about how I only got my job because of my parents, called Naomi’s love life messy, and said all of us put on a polished front while our lives are falling apart behind closed doors. You finished by telling all of us to never contact you again.”

My mouth fell open, but no sound came out. I’d been stuck in the ER getting an IV last night—my phone had been left in my mom’s purse the whole time.

Hannah laughed hollowly. “If you didn’t want to be friends anymore, you could’ve just said so. There’s no need to drag all of us through the mud.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the black screen, my heart hammering so hard it felt like it would burst out of my throat. They’d even taken away the last person I could run to.

I bolted out of the study. My mom was going over wardrobe measurements with the renovation contractor, and I slammed my phone down hard on the dining table.

“Why did you send those messages from my phone?”

My mom’s brows furrowed in irritation. “When the new Leah gets here, we can’t have random friends blowing up her phone with questions.”

My dad set down his blueprints and spoke flatly. “The simpler her social circle, the smoother the swap will go.”

A bitter laugh bubbled out of me. “So you quit my job for me, cut off all my friends, and kicked me out of my own bedroom without asking once.”

My mom’s face twisted with frustration. “Leah, can you stop being so unreasonable? You’re leaving soon—why keep making trouble for us?”

Her gaze drifted down to my wrist, where a bracelet sat snug against my skin. My grandmother had slipped it onto my wrist the day before she passed away.

My mom snatched my wrist hard. “We’ll take this off too.”

I jerked my arm away from her grip. “Grandma gave this to me.”

She dug her fingers into my wrist bone, squeezing until my fingertips went numb. “She loves this bracelet. It’ll look far better on her than it ever did on you.”

Pain shot through my hives, and spots blurred my vision.

My dad stepped forward, pressing his palm heavy against my shoulder, his tone thick with impatience. “It’s just a bracelet—stop throwing a fit over nothing.”

Mom poured soapy water on my wrist and forced my hand down.

She dropped the bracelet into a velvet jewelry box, and I felt a critical thread inside me snap clean in two.

I drew a deep breath, and suddenly all the fight drained out of me.

My mom set the box aside, looking relieved. “See? That’s much better. If you just cooperate, everything will be easier for all of us.”

I stared down at the empty ring of raw skin wrapped around my wrist, then forced a wide, hollow smile.

“Fine. I’ll be good.”