Major and Alec talked quietly about the possible Variations of the killer, how to find him, and how to better protect me. I sipped at the hot chocolate. Apparently, my input wasn’t expected. It annoyed me and made me want to prove myself to them even more. Summers disappeared into the kitchen again, probably for more tequila.
Eventually, Major turned to me. “Alec will try to keep a closer eye on you. But remember, even if the evidence points toward Yates as the killer, Devon is still very high on our suspect list. You should avoid being alone in the house with him.”
That wasn’t as easy as it sounded, nor did I think would it help our mission. I needed to confront as many suspects as possible, alone, if we wanted to find the killer and serve justice. Yet, I didn’t argue, it would have been futile to try. I’d just do what I considered necessary to catch the person who ripped Madison from her family.
Now I just wanted to get into my bed and forget that today had ever happened. I wanted to see Devon’s dimples, to hear Linda’s laughter, to listen to Ronald’s stories. Sometimes it felt like I wanted their company more than anything else.
“Alec reported that there’s a party the day after tomorrow,” Major said. I nodded. Ana had mentioned Francesca’s party in passing but I’d had so much to deal with that I hadn’t paid much attention. “I want you and Alec to keep an eye on things. You should attend as a couple. That way you can easily talk and leave together without drawing attention.”
Wasn’t that a little hypocritical?
“That’s it for today. Keep us updated on any further developments. You’re doing a fine job,” Major said. That was the most praise I’d ever heard from him.
“I’ll take you home.” Alec rose from his chair.
“No,” I immediately protested.
Summers took her car keys from a side table. “I’ll take her.”
Without another glance at Alec, I followed Summers out the door and to the car. She didn’t try to talk to me during the ride and dropped me off a few houses down from home. I snuck back into the house without a hitch.
The next day, Summers’ words still ghosted around in my head. Even if they weren’t at the forefront of my thoughts, they crouched at the edges of my consciousness, waiting to catch me by surprise.
You’re losing yourself in Madison.
But why not? Madison was dead. She would never come back. Maybe I could spare Linda and Ronald the heartbreak of finding out about her death. I could stop being Tessa and just be Madison. Her body already felt like home, her family like the one I’d always wanted.
Could I live the lie for years and decades?
But one troubling thought haunted me. It wasn’t me they loved, it was Madison.
It’s important that you don’t forget.
There were so many things I wanted to forget, to wipe from my memory once and for all. Like the day my mother’s third husband came home drunk and locked me in the closet, forcing me to listen to him beating the crap out of my mother. Or the day my mother said she wished I’d never been born.
I picked up the small hand mirror from its place on the nightstand. Madison’s face stared back at me. It wasn’t the face I was born with, and yet it felt so familiar, almost like my own. My skin rippled, my features warping, twisting, shifting, breaking until it was my own face in the mirror, my own turquoise eyes, always slightly south of normal. I should have felt relief at being myself for a moment, should have felt a sense of coming home, but I didn’t. I felt nothing.
The rippling started again. My face transformed into Madison’s and back to my own—then back to Madison’s and back to my own. A blur of blonde and brown, of freckles and scars, of blue and turquoise. I was starting to feel dizzy but I couldn’t stop.
If being someone else on the outside came easily to me, why couldn’t it work the same way with who I was on the inside? Why couldn’t I simply decide to feel like someone else?
The two faces swam before my eyes until I saw a strange combination of the two in the mirror. Despair squeezed the air from my lungs, made me lightheaded. My grip on the handle tightened, grew painful. With a cry, I flung the mirror away. It collided with the dresser and clattered to the floor, the shards littering the ground.
I crossed the room and as I stood over the remains of the mirror, my face—Tessa’s face—was splintered into dozens of pieces. For once, a mirror reflected how I felt inside, how I looked inside. Fragmented, broken, torn.
Shaking, I sank to the ground and started picking up the pieces of glass. I wasn’t careful enough, and one of the shards cut into the skin on my right palm, creating a tiny crimson river of blood. Someone knocked at the door. I stood, my legs still shaky, and let the rippling bring Madison’s body back. Just as I’d completed the shift, the door opened and Devon poked his head in. His eyebrows pulled down in a frown but when he saw my hands, now bloody from the glass, concern took over. He crossed the room and stood before me, cradling my hands in his.