My Perfect Sister Set Me Up to Fail

With my Harvard acceptance locked in, I decided to ditch the SAT.

Big mistake.

The school's golden boy, Clive Smolett, lost it when he heard. He marched up and decked me right in the face.

"Everyone else has to take the damn SAT! What makes you so special?"

His voice dripped with venom. "Or are you just scared you're not the genius everyone thinks you are? Afraid the whole school's gonna find out you're a fraud?"

I clenched my jaw.

In my last life, Clive had pulled the dirtiest trick—his SAT essay was identical to mine. Word for word.

I'd begged my sister, Charlize—the proctor—and my best friend, Geena, who was in the same exam room, to back me up.

Instead, they'd pleaded with the school to go easy on me. "It's his first offense," they'd said. "Let him retake it."

But by then, the damage was done.

The scandal exploded. My name was dragged through the mud. Cheater. Plagiarist.

And since I couldn't prove my innocence? Expulsion.

Worse—they banned me from ever taking the SAT again.

My parents got doxxed. Harassed. They lost their jobs, aged ten years overnight.

Their golden boy had crashed and burned.

The depression swallowed me whole.

One winter night, I ended it.

Then—I woke up.

Back to the week before the SAT.

"Denny, I made avocado toast with smoked salmon. Eat something before you study. You've lost weight!"

Charlize set the plate on my desk, even bringing a blueberry protein smoothie.

For a second, I almost fell out of my chair.

Then Geena walked in, dropping a food container next to it.

"Heard you haven't been eating. Made you some hummus—get your strength back."

I'd lived this before. Twice.

Last time, I'd thought I was the luckiest guy alive—a sister who doted on me, a best friend closer than family.

Now? Their kindness just twisted the knife.

Back then, when my essay matched Clive's exactly, the grading committee flagged it instantly.

As Harvard's top prospect, I was on track to ace the SAT.

Then the scandal hit.

I begged Charlize and Geena to vouch for me.

They refused.

Charlize even apologized for me, asking the school to let me repeat senior year instead of expelling me. "First offense," she'd said.

The internet went nuclear.

[Wow, his sister was the proctor? That's some insider cheating right there!]

[Ban him for life! No second chances for cheaters!]

[Retake the exam? In his dreams!]

The school shut her down fast.

When scores dropped, I—the valedictorian—barely scraped 200.