My Roommate Wants to Impersonate My Sister, But She's a Dog

My roommate was a diligent one. Every day she took it upon herself to clean, and she was even eager to sweep off my bed. What she was really doing was quietly collecting my hair. She wanted to use hair extensions to graft it onto her own head. All this scheming, for one reason only: I was a top-tier heiress. And I had a little sister who'd been missing for years. My roommate wanted to use my strands of hair to forge a DNA kinship report, sneak into a wealthy family, and carve off a share of the fortune. But there was one thing I'd forgotten to tell her. This missing little sister of mine, this "Bill Coleman" I kept mentioning. She was a Border Collie. …… Bianca Porter didn't notice me watching from outside the hair salon. Carefully, she pulled an envelope out of her bag. Inside were a few dozen long strands of hair. "Sir, can you put these into my hair as extensions?" "I did my research. Your salon has the most advanced seamless invisible extension technique." "Do it well, please. Don't let anyone tell!" The stylist took the hair, looked it over, and shook his head. "A few dozen strands is too few." "There's no way to guarantee it'll work." "We've got synthetic strands here, close enough to real hair. Why not use those instead?" Bianca panicked at once. "No! I want Lavinia Swanson's hair, and only hers!" The moment it was out, she caught herself, and quickly forced a smile. "Then let's forget it this time. I'll come back when I've collected enough." With that she tucked the hair back into the envelope and left the salon. I ducked behind a tree just in time. Bianca hadn't seen me. She stamped her foot, seething. "Steady effort grinds an iron rod down to a needle." "I refuse to believe I can't get the extensions on and pass myself off as the Swanson family's second daughter!" "Hee hee. Once the extensions are in, I won't have to fear a DNA test when they do the kinship reunion!" The more she talked, the smugger she got, and off she went humming a little tune. That was when I finally understood my roommate's ugly plan. Bianca and I were both freshmen, sharing the same dorm room. I'm a top-tier heiress. On move-in day, my dad drove me here himself in a Maybach. If I hadn't wanted to experience college life for myself, my mom would have rented me a villa right next to campus. But I didn't put on airs. I got along fine with all my roommates. I often treated them to iced lattes and big dinners out. And of all my roommates, Bianca was the one I'd thought best of. She was the most hardworking, and she had the bunk above mine. The two of us shared cleaning duty on the same day, and she always rushed to do the work. Sweeping, wiping the desks, mopping, even folding my blanket for me. "You're a rich girl. You can't manage this kind of thing, so let me!" She said it with such sincerity. It made me feel bad enough that I gave her a skincare set worth over eight hundred dollars. Never in my wildest dreams could I have guessed. Her rushing to sweep my bed and fold my blanket wasn't kindness at all. She was secretly hoarding my hair! She wanted to impersonate my little sister? The idea must have come from that late-night dorm chat at the start of the semester. When we talked about our families, I'd mentioned it in passing. "I have a little sister named Bill. She went missing when she was five." "I miss her so much." And just like that, Bianca got ideas. But what she didn't know. Bill wasn't a person at all. Just a Border Collie. I grew up with her from the time I was small, and we were so close that I called her my sister. But I had no plans to tell Bianca the truth. Since she wanted to play, I'd play along to the very end. When I got back to the dorm, Bianca rushed over at once. "Vinnie, you're back? Are you tired? Let me put your bag away for you." Same warm, fussing manner as ever. I smiled and thanked her. While she tidied my things, she kept probing sideways. Trying to dig up details about my missing sister. "Vinnie, where did you say your sister went missing again?" "What was she wearing when she got lost?" Inside I was laughing coldly. Out loud I only sighed and shook my head. "I don't want to talk about it. It hurts every time I bring it up." Bianca's face instantly filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." "Don't be sad. You'll find her one day, I'm sure of it." She patted my back gently, comforting me. But a flicker of resentment crossed her eyes. A few days later, I deliberately left a diary out on my desk. The contents inside were forged by me. Filled with page after page about how much I missed Bill. The longing was real. But I'd faked the time and place she went missing. And what Bill was wearing when she was lost. I even wrote, in a reminiscing tone, a few of Bill's traits from when she was little. She wiggled her butt side to side whenever she was happy. When it got hot, she'd stick her tongue out and pant. Her favorite thing was frisbee. Throw it, and she'd catch it perfectly in her mouth, never with her hands. While I went out to fetch water, Bianca secretly went through my diary. She acted like she'd struck gold. Thinking she'd gotten hold of the core secrets. But the truth is, once greed clouds a person's mind, they get dumber. She didn't notice at all. What I'd described wasn't a person. It was the traits of a dog. Late that night, I lay in bed. And heard a rustling coming from the bunk above. Bianca was up there practicing wiggling her butt and mimicking sticking her tongue out to pant. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. The real show had only just begun.