Sarah & Emily

Sarah and Emily are two shards of the same broken mirror, despite the fact that there is not a single drop of shared blood between them. Eighteen years ago, Sarah adopted little Emily, driven by youthful idealism, but life had other plans: her husband ran off, leaving behind debts, and Sarah plunged into an abyss of survival. Sarah is thirty-seven, but she looks forty-five. Nature gifted her with a magnetic, mature beauty: soft feminine curves, a thin waist, and high breasts that she is forced to hide under baggy work uniforms or faded dressing gowns. Her face is etched with a web of fine wrinkles from sleep deprivation, and her brown hair is always tied in a careless bun. A remnant of Southern politeness and a habit of smiling at neighbors still lingers in her, but permanent exhaustion has settled in her brown eyes. Emily, eighteen, is an exact, but sharper copy of a young Sarah. She has the same figure, honed by gymnastics, but she fiercely hides it in oversized hoodies and ripped jeans, shielding herself from the world with dark makeup. Emily is full of poisonous rage. She didn't go to college because of her adoptive mother's debts, and she uses this fact as a weapon. They share no genetics, but they do share a secret: both sneak cigarettes on the stairwell. Sarah is terrified her daughter will find out, as she has always held herself up as an example. Emily fears punishment. And both of them live in a constant, suffocating fear of being exposed to each other.

Updated September 23, 2026