After hearing mum call out to me and listening in on all the commotion in the living room, the reality that my sister was now home began to sink in. I hadn't seen her since she last visited about a year and a half ago, and during that last visit I think the only words I uttered to her were "can you pass the salt".

So once the noise had died down and a soft thud of Lexi's door, followed by mum's footsteps down the hallway, sounded in the house, I thought for sure I was safe.

A good half an hour passed without any disruption to me reading my book. It was enough time to get sucked back into the world of magic, oblivious to the happenings around me.

But then a light knock on my door pulled me from the story once more.

Finger slipping in to mark my page, I called out, "What do you want, mum?"

Yet as my door creaked open and her head popped in, my heart sank. Lexi Peterson-Williams, my twin, stood in the doorway looking vastly different to the last time I saw her.

"That's a look," I grumbled, reopening my book to try to emphasise that I didn't want to talk to her.

Yet she either misread my hint or ignored it, stepping into my room and softly closing the door behind her. Then she walked across the room and sat on my bed, right by my stump.

Her gaze was fixated on it for a moment, taking it in like she was trying to gauge whether she could stomach it. But after a couple of moments passed with her looking at my leg and me glancing over the top of my book, studying her, her gaze finally snapped up to mine. And I immediately looked back to my book.

"Vampires, hey?" Lexi asked when I refused to acknowledge her.

"There's more than vampires in the book," I said back, annoyed she somehow got me to talk. But then I kept trying to read the words on my page.

"What else is in it?"

"Why don't you read it yourself?" I muttered.

"Most people don't read anymore, Cal. But they're doing a TV show adaptation of the Magic Mutations Series, I heard, so maybe—"

As she spoke, I dog-eared my page, closed my book, and set it on my nightstand, all the while shifting up to a straighter position. Then I cut her off with, "What do you want Lexi?"

She paused. Then pressed her lips together and looked down to her fingers, picking at a fraying cuticle. "To catch up."

"We don't do that."

"Well I want to start doing that."

"Why?"

"Because, Callie..." She sighed and looked back up at me, a pained expression washing her face. "We used to be really close and I want to be like that again."

"Why?"

"Because we're family."

Rolling my eyes, I reached for my book again.

"Can you just stop being a kid and actually talk to me about this for a second?"

Scoffing at the insult, I tossed my book to my bed and crossed my arms over my chest. "Excuse me?"

"That didn't come out right," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Look, I'm sorry I was distant and that I moved away. I admit, what happened to us was my fault. But I promise you I've changed."

"How?" I grumbled, though I'd be lying if I wasn't slightly interested in her attempt to make amends.

"Well... you know why I was distant, right Cal?"

Shrugging, I said, "Because you hate having an amputee for a sister?"

"What? No!" she exclaimed, moving towards me on the bed. But while most would have read that as her trying to 'closer' to me, I just saw it as her trying to move away from my disfigurement. "Callie, the reason I ran from you has nothing to do with—"

"So you admit you ran from me?" I asked. And despite all the years of hatred I had built up for my sister, I could feel a lump forming in my throat, tears stinging in my eyes as my worst fears were confirmed as true.

"Yes," she whispered, looking down at the bed.

"Well that's just great."

"I was a kid... I... It's not that you have one leg that scared me from looking at you, Cal."

"You were... scared of looking at me?" I asked, turning to meet her regretful eyes as she gave me another nod.

"When I looked at you... all I saw was all the blood. You passed out and I heard you don't remember any of it. But I saw it all happen, Cal and—"

"But you don't live with it everyday," I spat at her. "You're not the one that boys don't look at because you're in a chair or on crutches. You're not the one people are scared to befriend because they don't know what they can and can't do with you. And you're not the one who has everyone turning to look at them in—"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Cal. Look at me right now. I assure you, people look at me strangely up here for dressing like I do."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes because if I uttered one more word, I was scared I would cry. And the last thing I wanted was her relishing in breaking me. "They look at you just because you have differently coloured hair and clothes. But if you wanted them to stop looking, you can just wear something normal or dye your hair back. I can't grow another leg."

She pressed her lips together as she stared at me for an immeasurable amount of time. It was long enough for the tears to retreat back into my eyes. Long enough for the buzzing noise of the aircon to become overly apparent. Long enough for me to realise she still had that tiny scar above her eyebrow from when she split her head open on the bathroom sink after jumping out when we were kids. Then she uttered, "I feel like you create your own limitations, Cal. If you just showed more confidence and owned your differences, then you'd—"

"Don't you dare talk to me like you'd understand," I shut her down before she could finish, leaving her to fall silent again for a while.

After what seemed like minutes passed of me staring at the wall and her looking to her lap, she finally said, "I'm trying, Cal. I want you back and I'll do whatever it takes to be the sisters we once were."

"The Callie you knew is never coming back, Lexi."

"Then whoever the new one is..."

This time, I sighed, leaning back against the bed frame, head resting against the wall as I stared up at the ceiling. "What makes you think you can stomach looking at me now?"

"I've... I had lots of counselling. I know what you went through, what you lost, is way worse. But please cut me some slack. I was a ten year old who watched her sister's leg get run over by a train. It was burned into my brain every time I closed my eyes..." her voice trailed off to a whisper as her eyes began to glisten.

So finally I sat up, moving closer to her to grab her hand. "I get it. So counselling makes it easier?"

She nodded, looking back up at me. "Also, everything I saw last year... you can say I have a much stronger stomach."

"Right... yes..." Because of the cancer. After seeing her be so kind to me and persist despite my reluctance, I realised this time it was my turn to offer her the same. "How... are you coping with it?"

She let out a small shrug. "Some days are easier. Some are hard. Like, we knew halfway through last year that the chemo wasn't working anymore. But even though I had five months to say goodbye..."

I didn't know what to say to that, because I never could quite wrap my head around their connection considering I had never felt it. But Lexi lived with them for five years. So I ended up saying, "At least dad had you there for support."

Lexi looked up at me, a small smile on her face as she gave me a nod. "Anyway... enough of that sad nonsense. Tell me about you. Who are you friends with these days? What are your favourite subjects? Who are you crushing on?"

Rolling my eyes, I found it hard to believe she wanted to hit me with the big topics straight away. Nonetheless, I obliged. Because even if I hadn't quite forgiven her just yet, she was still my sister. And I knew any secret I told her would stay between us, just like it always had. "Sara is the only person I hang out with these days."

"That's the Asian girl who transferred the last year I was here, right?"

I sighed at her label and said, "Third generation Japanese, yes. She's the only one who has been able to stomach my leg... And who has been willing to put up with some of my limitations that came with being in a chair or on crutches."

"Mum mentioned in the car there's a lot of lingo related to it. Do you mind teaching me? I'd like to know."

I felt a little wary talking about my disability with her. Because in some ways she was still a stranger. But the earnestness in her stare convinced me. So I told her about all the surgeries, the chair and crutches, the fact I could never go on carnival rides, or get into people's cars as their parents' car couldn't fit my chair, which was my mobility method of choice when  leaving the house for extended periods. I gave her a demonstration on how I put on my prosthetic and the nightmare of going through rehabilitation therapy to learn to walk again. And then I even whispered to her about Noah, just before the light filtering in my room through the window disappeared all together, the furniture now casting shadows on the floor.

"You should confess," Lexi breathed.

I shook my head. "I can't. It's crossing a line. Besides... look at me."

"I'm looking."

I rolled my eyes.

"You're gorgeous, Callie. You've got all of mum in you."

"Yeah but... the way I see it is, if a guy can pick between a girl with two legs and me... surely they will always go for her. Because this," I pointed to my stump, "Is never shown as beautiful. Where's the stories with female protagonists with one leg? Where's the fashion magazines with girls with only one arm? Maybe one day down the line when I'm older some guy will eventually see past it. A guy who has had the chance to live and experience all the pretty girls they can... but right now, I think an ugly girl who can still slip on a pair of nice heels or go on a roller coaster ride, or go to the beach with..."

"Can you not go to the beach?" she interrupted me.

Lolling my head to the side—as we were now both laying side by side, staring at the glow in the dark stars pinned to my ceiling—I met her iridescent blue gaze. "Going anywhere with friends when I was in the chair was too difficult. So I mostly went to wheelchair-friendly places like the movies or shops. And even then, mum was generally taking us because no one really had a car for my chair. And the crutches were too tiring. Nothing scares a boy away more than a parent chaperoning. As for now with my prosthetic... I could. But it would be best to take my leg off so that I don't get sand in the moving parts. There are legs I can get for more outdoor stuff but... we can't afford it just yet. Apparently I will one day have a few legs, like people have different shoes." I pressed my lips together and looked back at the ceiling. "One day, I'm sure I will meet a guy who can stomach looking at me and who will deal with my limitations. But what teenage boy wants to do that when they can just date an able-bodied girl?"

"Because you're amazing? And lovely? And smart?"

Shrugging, I said, "One of many."

She sighed and reached down, grabbing my hand. "We will have to work on your confidence."

Wanting this topic to disappear because it was making me sad, I then said, "Tell me about your love life in Melbourne."

"Ugh," she groaned in response, grabbing my pillow and plopping it over her head.

"What?" I asked, amused, rolling onto my side to look at her. "Did you meet a boy?"

She pulled the pillow down, a mixture of emotions swirling in her gaze—heartache, embarrassment, shame, wistfulness. "There was someone. I met them at the start of last year and we were together for almost six months. But when mum—"

"Mum?" I responded, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Mum hasn't visited you in a year."

"Not mum mum."

My face slowly fell as the reality of what she was saying set in. "You called... you called Jessica 'mum'?"

"It was easier than step-mum."

I sat up instantly, glaring at her. Slowly, Lexi shifted up as well, brows furrowing in confusion. "She wasn't even married to dad," I replied.

"So? They were still committed partners. She was still there for my heartbreaks, for my scraped knees. She wiped my tears. She packed my lunches. She picked me up from soccer practice. She went shopping with me."

"Our real mum could have done that."

"I don't get why you're getting so upset over this."

"Because that bitch is why mum and dad separated in the end. Because of her and my leg, he just gave up and—"

"You hold on right there, Callie," she hissed. "Firstly, dad did not leave because of your leg. He left because 'Jessica', as you like to call her, couldn't stand dad running back to mum's bed every time there was a scare about another operation of yours."

"But then she always split them up."

"She did not! Mum would miss him, take him back in, and then kick him out again over the smallest fight. Then, with nowhere to go, he'd go right back to mu—to Jessica."

"Nowhere? Um, there's grandma? Jojo? Tristan?"

Lexi rolled her eyes. "Everyone needs romantic affection from time to time, Callie. You can't be mad at dad for not waiting around for months on end for mum to want him back again."

"I can be mad," I muttered back, crossing my arms.

"Regardless of what you think happened, you have to admit that Jessica was, in some way, your parent too."

I scoffed. "I had no relationship with her."

Lexi shrugged. "Even so, she was dad's partner. And because she was the one always there, I found it easier to just call her mum."

Unable to withstand the justifications for the family I didn't know, I then said, "Can you leave my room?"

"What?" she retorted.

"Get out."

"Why?"

"Because I'm done talking to you."

"This is very immature of you, Callie."

"I don't give a shit!" I spat. "Leave now or I will."

With a frustrated sigh, Lexi got to her feet and stormed out of my room, slamming the door shut behind her on the way out.

Early chapter upload in light of the festive season. A present from me to you. 

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