B00B9FX0MA EBOK (21 page)

I pushed my foot down even harder on the accelerator. One second, two seconds, and then, a thunderlike crash and the feeling of flying.

And then nothing.

If this was death, then it was quiet. At least, that’s what I thought at first. And then, my ears began to pick out and separate sounds. The chirping of birds. The lapping of water against the shore. And then a word, so quiet I thought it was in my imagination.

“Hayley?”

I pressed my ear to the ground. I didn’t want to move, not yet. I felt like pain surrounded my whole body, but from a distance, as if it hadn’t sunk in. If I moved, it would hurt. I felt liquid trickle down my face and knew it was blood.

“Hayley?” The voice was stronger this time. More real. Who was it? Who could want me right now? I knew it was someone important, but everything just seemed a little bit beyond reach. It was as if all I could process were the physical sensations I was slowly regaining.

Slowly, I sat up and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, unleashing a deluge of blood down my face. That was why I hadn’t been able to see. Blinking, I realized my sight
wasn’t damaged, it had just been obscured by the blood. Right in front of me, smoke was rising from the pile of metal only feet from me that had once been the two cars. Flames sputtered around the wreckage as if it were a macabre bonfire.

And then, everything came flooding back.

“Adam!” I shrieked, scrambling to my feet. My knee buckled, and I fell. And suddenly, the pain was everywhere.

“Hayley!” The voice was real, but I didn’t want to open my eyes again. I was too afraid of what I’d see. My face felt wet, and I knew I was crying.

“Hayley, are you okay? It’s me. It’s me. Adam. Please.”

I felt pressure on my shoulders, felt a hand brush away the wetness from my forehead.

“Hayley? Please. Please …”

“Adam?” My voice was garbled and unfamiliar; I hadn’t said the
d
properly. “Adam.” I said again.

“Shhh.” I felt him pull me into a hug. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe. But why? And why had I been so scared before? The answers were somewhere close. I knew that, but I didn’t want to look. “Shhh,” he said again.

And then, a new sound reached my ears: wailing sirens. I opened my mouth and joined their cries, the whole time being rocked by strong arms that kept making me feel safe.

I
tossed and turned, falling through space. Although not falling, more like flying, as though I were a puppet on a string, being manipulated by an unseen puppeteer. Everything was dark, and yet I knew my enemy was close by. And I knew her name was Jamie, although I didn’t know how I knew it.

“Jamie!” I yelled raggedly, the word echoing again and again and again.
Jamie.
It was more than a name.

The word was still echoing as a figure emerged from the darkness — shadowy at first, and then more and more solid. Both of us faced each other. Her eyes were large and dark, the pupils practically disappearing into the dark irises. She was my shadow. She was my twin. I knew that now. I’d always known, no matter how much I’d pushed the thought back into my subconscious. We were born together.

We stared at each other. There was no other noise. I held my hand up to her and she did the same, mirror images of each other.

I broke the silence. “We’re dead.” It was a fitting end. The two of us had entered the world together. Why wouldn’t we leave the world together as well?

She shook her head, imperceptibly at first, and then more and more violently. As she did, her body became less and less solid, more and more shadowy. I watched, horrified, entranced. And then I realized that as she was evaporating, I was breathing. I
put my hand against my heart, feeling it beat: strong, steady, singular.

“She’s going to be a little groggy. We’ve got her on a few painkillers for her arm and for the knee. And she’ll have a headache for a few days. It was a nasty concussion. But other than that, she’ll be fine.”

I blinked. Circular, white orbs hung above me like stars. I blinked again, attempting to focus, but the orbs above me just swam in and out of my vision.

“Hayley?” a loud voice, inches from my ear, asked. I flinched. I wanted to turn my head away from the source of the noise, but I couldn’t. “Hayley,” the voice said again.

I breathed in sharply, laughing to myself as I heard it. I was alive. I had a heartbeat and I could breathe.

“See, the painkillers give vivid dreams. Especially coupled with the trauma … I’d have someone watch her while she’s sleeping for a while.”

“Shh, she’s coming to. Let me see if she’s responsive. She’s not sleeping.”

I turned, just wanting to be left alone. But the voice was relentless. “Don’t move. You’re in the hospital. You were in an accident, and you fractured your arm and got a few bumps and bruises, but you’re going to be fine. You’re safe.”

That wasn’t correct. I’d never feel safe.

“Hayley, you’re in the hospital. Can you hear me?”

“Yeah.” I struggled to sit up.

“Take your time.” The scrubs wearer swam into focus. Unlike the nurses at Serenity, she had no makeup and a short
brown ponytail. She smiled at me. “Good girl,” she murmured. I blinked, realizing I had a hospital ID on my wrist, stamped
HAYLEY KATHRYN WESTIN
in large letters.

“Looks like you’re awake,” the nurse said fondly. “And we have some people to see you.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to see anyone. Not yet. Not like this.

But it was too late.

“Is she okay?” I recognized that voice.

“Mom!” I brushed away the tube from my nose; I didn’t want her to see me like this.

“Shh, leave that in. It’s just oxygen. It’s good for you.” The nurse readjusted the tube as Mom ran to the side of the bed.

“Oh, Bunny.” Mom’s eyes were red and there were dark circles under them. At the foot of the bed was James. I blinked at him. He sighed shakily.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he said in a thick voice. He turned toward Mom.

“That’s all right. She’ll talk to you later. When you both feel stronger.” Mom’s voice was steady and calm. James nodded, relieved, and left the room so it was just the two of us.

“Hayley. Hayley, I am so, so sorry.” Mom gently swept my tangled bangs from my forehead.

I winced at the touch, even though it was gentle. My head pounded, and I remembered the last image: me, flying toward the windshield. Adam saving me. The smoke rising from the wreckage of my car as though it were a pyrotechnic display.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Mom said, pulling her hand back. Her eyes were wet with tears. “Jamie …”

“Is dead.” I finished the sentence.

Mom nodded.

“She is. They brought her in, but she didn’t make it. I’m sorry. And James came, of course, and his wife is here. I just wish …”

I shook my head. “Please don’t.” I didn’t want to hear her explanation. I didn’t want anything.

“I shouldn’t have lied to you. I shouldn’t have lied to myself. I didn’t think I wanted any children. James and I had decided we’d put you both up for adoption. We had a couple ready. But then I saw you, and I couldn’t give you up. But I couldn’t keep you both. So then James decided … insisted … on keeping Jamie. It was the right thing to do, he said. And we agreed that it would be easier if neither of you knew about each other. We were always fighting, and he was so angry that I’d changed my mind about the adoption. He felt I’d ruined the plan. And I guess I did. After, I wasn’t even sure what I’d done. What kind of mother leaves a twin?”

For once, I didn’t have the words to make my mother feel better. But she didn’t seem to need them. Her lower lip wobbled. She clenched her jaw, then opened her mouth again.

“I was so alone,” she said to herself. “And then you both were there, and suddenly, we had one another. But I couldn’t keep you both. I wanted you. And James got her. I kept telling myself that she’d died, because it was the only way I could live with myself. It was neater that way. I couldn’t see her without seeing him, and …” She emitted a long, shaky sigh. “I always hoped she’d have a better life. You were the one who was always working so hard, pushing yourself. I sometimes wished that I’d given both of you to James. But then …”

“It’s not your fault,” I said in a small voice. I sounded very, very young.

“I tried,” Mom said, almost to herself. “I love you. I only lied because I love you.”

Love.
The word jolted in my brain, causing my mind to flash to the accident: Adam, by my side. Adam, always watching out for me, trailing me, sensing that things were falling apart. Matt had never been like that. Matt had fallen for Jamie, the chameleonlike girl who could behave like the perfect girlfriend, absent of her own desires and fears. Matt had been my ideal. But Adam was the guy who knew me and liked me for
me
. I needed him.

“What about Adam?” I asked urgently.

“Adam?” Mom cocked her head. “He’s all right. He has a broken leg, but he’ll be fine.”

“Really?” A tear trickled down my cheek. Was I crying for Adam? Jamie? Myself? I thought of Adam’s strong hands on my shoulders, how I trusted him with every fiber of my being.

“Can I see him? I want him here,” I told her. I still couldn’t look my mother in the face. This was the second time she’d told me about Jamie’s death, and this time, I wanted so badly to believe it. I did believe it.

I had to believe it.

Mom’s face crumpled, before she quickly composed herself. “Of course you do. I’ll get the nurse and see.” She rose from the bed. There had definitely been a shift between us, and there was so much to ask: Who else knew about Jamie? Had she talked to James? And how could Mom possibly have confused me with her? But I didn’t ask and she didn’t say anything.

“Mommy?” I said, just before she reached the threshold. She turned around, tears spilling down her high cheekbones.

“Yes?”

“Actually, can you stay here with me?” I asked.

I knew Mom and I had months — years — of conversations ahead of us, but for right now, I didn’t want to talk.

A shadow of a smile crossed her face as she climbed into the bed. I turned toward the window, noticing that the sun was setting. The light refracted from the window against the stainless steel of the IV pole connected to the drip snaking into my arm. I was reminded of the glint of the knife, how Jamie had been determined to kill me. That Mom had, deep down, been right with the story she’d told herself: Only one of us could have survived.

I turned to tell Mom, but her breathing had softened and her face had relaxed. She’d fallen asleep. It wasn’t worth waking her up.

After all, Jamie was dead. She couldn’t hurt me anymore. And the knowledge that she’d inadvertently put me so close to danger would destroy Mom.

Besides, some things had to stay between sisters.

T
he leaves were turning shades of yellow and orange and red as I crossed the UPenn campus on my way to the library. It was good to be away from Bainbridge, and away from my mother, who was still trying to reconcile the eighteen years she’d lived a lie to her life as a newlywed. She was navigating her own uncharted life, and I was happy to give her the space to do that in order to navigate my own.

I glanced down at my watch. It was only four forty-five. I had fifteen minutes before I met with my Psych Stats group.

Quickly, I logged onto Facebook to figure out whether we’d decided to meet in the Commons or at the Starbucks off campus. I scrolled down my newsfeed, clicked on my own profile, and blinked at a status update, written by me.

I took a deep breath. It had to have been some joke written by my roommate before she headed to her Lit class.

My phone buzzed.

I smiled. Adam. He was five hours away, up at Harvard, but we’d been visiting each other every few weeks.

“Hey, baby,” I said quietly into the phone, oblivious to the people swarming around me.

“So, how’d you get into Canaday without me?” he asked jovially, naming his Harvard dorm. “I loved the flowers on my desk.”

“What?” My blood turned to ice.

“Forget-me-nots. That’s cute. Of course, my roommate’s a little bummed that I’m getting flowers and all he ever gets from his girlfriend are smiley emoticons, but what can I say, I guess I’m just a lucky guy. It was the perfect present.”

“Perfect,” I whispered as the phone slid out of my hand and shattered on the pavement.