**One Soul, Two Hearts**
When our family welcomed two identical daughters, it wasn’t entirely unexpected, but in the hospital, Marina still felt a flicker of panic. The midwife brought the twins for feeding and left them with her in the ward.
*How will I tell them apart?* she wondered. *I knew I was having twins, but seeing them here, so perfectly matched—it’s different.*
Yet Marina soon learned to distinguish them by subtle signs only she could see. To everyone else, they remained indistinguishable.
Emily and Sophie grew up inseparable—playing together, attending nursery, then school. By their teens, they’d read about the myths surrounding twins: how the ancient Greeks believed them blessed by the gods, how their bond was said to be supernatural. They joked that they shared one soul between them, thinking and feeling as one.
And it often seemed true. If Emily caught a cold, Sophie would fall ill days later. They stumbled into similar mishaps, fancied the same boys. Even their personalities mirrored each other.
When graduation neared, both excelled in their studies and planned for university. Then, over the Christmas holidays, Sophie fell terribly ill. Emily waited, expecting to feel the same symptoms, but they never came. Their parents rushed Sophie to the hospital, where doctors delivered a grim diagnosis—leukaemia.
*You should’ve come sooner,* they said, though they understood—without symptoms, who would?
Sophie fought for six months before passing in spring. At the exact moment she died, Emily, sitting in class, felt a sharp pain in her chest, her heart racing as if trying to escape. She nearly fainted.
Their parents feared for Emily, certain she’d succumb to grief—or worse, the same illness. They rushed her to the hospital, but tests showed nothing wrong.
The loss devastated the family. Emily wrestled with guilt. *Why her and not me? It’s like part of me is gone.*
Her mother urged her forward. *Darling, your A-levels are coming up. You must do well—for yourself and for Sophie.* With a shaky breath, Emily agreed, and somehow, she passed with flying colours.
Amid the grief, clarity struck her. *Mum, I want to study medicine. I need to fight these wretched diseases.*
*Then we’ll support you,* her mother said, pulling her close.
Years passed. The pain dulled, but Emily missed Sophie endlessly—no one had ever understood her so completely. *Mum, it’s like my life split into “before” and “after,”* she confessed. Her mother knew the feeling well.
By her final year at university, Emily met James. For the first time in years, she laughed freely, as if love had reignited her.
Three months in, Sophie appeared in a dream, waving as if pointing somewhere. Emily woke unsettled—Sophie had never visited her dreams before.
*I should visit her grave,* she decided. *And light a candle at church.* Her mother agreed.
On her way to campus, she called James. They’d planned to meet after lectures.
*James, I’m sorry—I need to go to the cemetery today. I’ll see you later.*
*Of course, love. Take your time,* he replied.
Classes ended early. Relieved, Emily headed to the cemetery, then to church. With time to spare, she drove to James’s flat.
The unlocked door should’ve been her first warning. Inside, she froze—James was with another woman. All three stared in shock.
*Emily!* he blurted, scrambling up.
*I never want to see you again,* she spat, fleeing.
Easier said than endured, but with time came perspective. *Thank God this happened now, not after marriage.*
James begged forgiveness, but Emily refused. *I’ll never trust you again.*
He vanished, but weeks later, friends called. *James borrowed money, claiming you’d repay it.* Though furious, Emily paid—proof she’d dodged disaster.
Then she remembered the dream. Sophie had been warning her.
Emily qualified as a doctor, throwing herself into work. One evening, driving to her hospital shift, her car stalled inexplicably. After a frantic inspection (though she knew nothing about engines), it miraculously restarted.
Further ahead, traffic crawled past a horrific crash—four cars mangled. *That could’ve been me,* she realised, chilled.
At the hospital, a weeping nurse confirmed her dread. *My brother died in that accident.*
Emily hugged her, numb. *Sophie saved me.*
Later, mechanics found no issue with her car. Another sign.
Months on, meeting a friend at a café, Emily parked and stepped toward the crossing. Her bracelet—Sophie’s—snapped, beads scattering. As she bent to gather them, a screech of tyres—a car ploughed into pedestrians.
Shaking, she joined her friend, who pulled her close. *Thank God you’re safe.*
At home, Emily gazed at Sophie’s photo. *You’re still with me.*
She wasn’t superstitious, but she kept Sophie’s things—not as relics, but as reminders. Their souls had been one. Now, Emily lived for them both, carrying her sister wherever she went.
