Go Love Your Real Sister Brother Novel by Lee Fox _ Novel





Go Love Your Real Sister Brother Chapter 01

Everyone in Los Angeles knew my brother, Jeremy Holden, was completely obsessed with me.
He spent millions throwing me a huge 18th birthday party. But that same day, he locked me in a pitch-black room all by himself.
By the time I broke down the door and ran into the banquet hall covered in blood, he was holding another girl’s hand.
He looked at her softly as they cut the birthday cake that was supposed to be mine. That girl looked just like me. Even the scar on her wrist matched mine perfectly.
I was about to run over and demand answers when a voice cut through the air.
“You’re pathetic. You’re just an adopted fake. What gives you the right to be jealous of the real one?”
“Later, you’ll beg for Jeremy’s attention. You’ll deserve it when he breaks your arms and legs and locks you up in a psych ward!”
My blood turned to ice.Just then, Jeremy saw me.
His first move was to pull the girl behind him, his face cold.
“Don’t cause a scene. Liv is my real sister. I’ll explain everything later.”
Liv? We had the same name. The same scar. I really was the perfect stand-in.
I held back my tears and smiled faintly.
“Now that your real sister is back, I guess it’s time for me, the fake one, to leave.”
I pulled out a black card and flipped it between my fingers.
“I’ll take this as payment for my act.”
***
I left Jeremy and the shocked crowd behind and walked out of the ballroom.
My reflection stared back at me from the mirrored wall.
My fancy dress was t0rn, the hem covered in dirt, and most of my hair was messy.
I looked completely broken.
“She just left like that?”
“I was waiting to watch her fight Liv and get yelled at by Jeremy.”
“This isn’t like her at all!”
If I hadn’t heard those words earlier, I would’ve run forward, stood in front of that giant three-layer cake, and yelled to everyone that I was the real one and the other girl was a fraud.
Then I would’ve ended up exactly like they said — my limbs broken, locked away in a mental hospital for the rest of my life.
I walked faster and stepped out through the revolving doors. A cold wind hit me, carrying the rain.
I waved down a taxi.
“To the nearest mall.”
As the car pulled away, the world outside blurred past the window. It felt like the last 18 years of my life were fading away, one piece at a time.
I opened my email.
At the top of my inbox was an acceptance letter from Paris College of Art. It had been there for seven days.
A week ago, when I first got it, I ran excitedly into Jeremy’s study.
He was going through papers and didn’t even look up.
“Jerry, I got into the Paris College of Art!”
His pen paused for a second. Then he lifted his eyes to me, his gaze cold.
“Paris?”
“Yeah. They only take 30 students from all over the world —”
“It’s too far,” he said, going back to his writing. His voice left no room for argument.
“I don’t want you going alone. I’ll sign you up for a good school here.”
I stood there, completely shocked.
“But…”
“Liv,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Just do as I say.”
And I did.
I stuffed the letter deep in my drawer, buried my dream, and told myself he had a reason — that he was only looking out for me.
Now I finally knew the truth. It was never about my safety.He just wanted to keep me here.
After all, he wasn’t about to let the perfect stand-in he’d spent 18 years raising leave before the real one came home.
I tapped the “Accept” button at the b0tt0m of the email.
Eighteen years of being trapped like a bird in a cage ended with one click.
“No way… You’re really leaving?”
“Wait, aren’t you scared your ID will get canceled? Even your whole identity belongs to the real Liv.”
My hand touched the scar on my wrist. The rough, uneven surface pressed against my fingers.
I didn’t remember much from before I was five. But one scene kept playing in my dreams.
Jeremy held my tiny wrist and pressed a red-hot, cloud-shaped metal against it.
I could almost smell my skin burning, see the white sm0ke rising, and feel that unbearable pain.
Every time the dream got to that part, I woke up screaming.
I once asked him, “Jerry, what’s this scar from?”
He stayed quiet for a long time, then pulled me into his arms. His chin rested lightly on my head.
“It’s a mark,” he said.
“It proves you’re my sister.”
What a pretty lie.
It was never a “special mark” at all.
When I got to the mall, I bought simple clothes: a black hoodie, jeans, and canvas shoes.
After changing out of my blood-stained dress, I bought a big suitcase and went straight to the bank.
Inside the VIP room, the manager saw the black card and immediately became polite.
“I’d like to withdraw 300,000 dollars.”
He froze for a second, then regained his professional smile.
“Of course, Ms. Holden. Just give me a moment.”
I sat on the couch and watched the manager walk out.
My phone lit up.It was a text from Jeremy.
“Where are you?”

READ FULL NOVEL HERE