Through the Glass

Chapter One

Olivia

Inever cared to be an actress. Waltzing across the stage with all eyes on me wasn’t my style, nor was feigning confidence as a different character. I admired them really, the performers who could fool an audience into feeling and believing their words. The very best could pull people into their world within minutes, tugging on heart strings and wrapping the crowd around their little finger.

Turns out my mother was the true actress around here.

I lifted my eyes from my bowl of stew, a fleeting glance landing on Mom as she sipped wine from a goblet. Without even meeting my gaze, her words found me from across the table.

I’ll take it as a compliment that you haven’t spoken since we sat down for dinner. She positioned her goblet beside her placemat, careful and precise. Regardless, the red liquid sloshed from side to side, taking a minute to settle.

I tried to hide how my eyes widened. Like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, I bowed mine over my dinner, slipping the spoon into my mouth and forcing myself to swallow another bite. Tasteless, it hit my empty stomach like a punch to the gut. I would never pull this off.

Are you feeling okay? Mom asked. She cocked her head to the side, studying me. Her eyes bore into me like a magnifying glass, reading beyond the obvious signs of my discomfort. She could always see right through me.

I scrambled for some line of truth, knowing it was the only way I’d be able to disguise my lie. Stalling, I ran my napkin across my lips, still focusing on the carrots and potatoes inside my bowl. How could I talk to her when I could barely maintain eye contact?

Does this have anything to do with Andre Steele? Dad asked. Grateful for the interruption, I found comfort responding to my ally, though he had no idea how deceived he truly was. Until just hours ago, I hadn’t either.

Um, sort of, I said, my fingers clenching the napkin in my lap. I couldn’t picture Andre without seeing him with Emma, harboring my twin in his backyard pool house. I’d only just met her after our entire childhood apart, and now we were separated again with more secrets and lies. There would be a time for truth, but that time was not now. Not until we solidified a plan.

Mentioning Andre seemed to fit my unsteady behavior, though. Dad cleared his throat and exchanged a knowing look with Mom, who gave a tight-lipped smile in return. I needed to play along as truthfully as I could, which, considering Andre and I were still unsure about our relationship status, shouldn’t prove too difficult. So, out with the truth.

Well, we did kiss the other day— I paused with an exaggerated sigh. Come on, Dad. Don’t make this more awkward with that face. You’re the one who asked, I reminded him, not actually wanting to talk about Andre and me either. However, it seemed easier than explaining, Oh, and by the way, the woman you married separated me from my identical twin and has been using us to run a social experiment. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be equipped to navigate that conversation about the woman he loved and the mother I trusted.

Used to trust.

So… I continued in a hurry. We kissed, but then I decided I didn’t want a boyfriend, so I put an end to it. Only… Dominic stopped by on the weekend and I was mad at Andre, so I kissed Dominic, too— I stopped when Dad dropped his fork against his plate and then clamored to pick it up in a clumsy fashion. I bit my lip, wishing I were only fibbing about kissing Andre and my ex-boyfriend within twenty-four hours of each other. It’s been a little confusing around here, I finished, folding my arms against the table.

Mom made a curt noise that sounded like judgement to me, not that she had any room for that. It sounds like we might need to set up a second visit with your therapist.

No, not Todd, I moaned, a genuine response of humiliation and dread. The first sit-down with that uncomfortable man was enough. However, I’d have to give in. This apparent boy drama seemed to be working as the perfect detour from the truth. And the lies.

Livvy, Mom said, her tone softening as she used my childhood nickname. I met her eyes in surprise. She hardly ever called me that anymore. It wasn’t like her to coddle. One session alone is not going to help you come to terms with understanding your adoption situation… Yes, I know, she clarified. "I mean, how I raised you without actually adopting you. We have our differences in opinion, but I’m sure we can agree you suddenly chopping your hair off and kissing a new boy every night might be symptoms of something deeper beneath the surface."

Ugh. The psychiatrist was back in the house, which was why she’d sent me to a therapist in the first place. She hadn’t wanted to wear her mom and psychiatrist hat at the same time. Little had I known back then that Mom wore multiple hats every day.

The client-focused psychiatrist.

The devoted mother.

The twisted social scientist running tests on separated identical twins.

My cheeks burned as images of facing Emma along the river leapt to the forefront of my mind, shadowed by her navy hoodie. Pale and afraid. Nervous to my touch. I’d left her tonight, seated on the edge of the bed inside Andre’s pool house, her eyes wide and uncertain. Andre would take care of her, but I hated how the sister I’d only met hours ago lay just a few miles away from my reach. We had so much to catch up on. So much to try to understand, and a plan to devise.

Fine, I’ll go see Todd again, I said, conceding with less fight than normal—anything to keep this conversation at bay. On second thought, maybe I was conceding too fast, raising suspicion. That didn’t sound like me. But don’t go pulling one of your favors again and getting me in tomorrow, I hurried to add, crossing my arms for added effect. I slouched into the back of my seat. Give me a week or so to figure out what I want to talk with him about. Deal? I raised my eyebrows, hoping I’d pulled off my usual stubbornness mixed with compliance.

Dad cleared his throat. That sounds fair enough. Don’t you think, Evelyn?

Mom smiled softly at him and took a deep breath. I suppose so. She looked my way to say, I’ll call Todd in the morning and see when he is available. No rush, she promised. She stood up, gathering dishes from the table, and then disappeared into the kitchen.

At last, the charade was over. I jumped up, taking mine and Dad’s bowl to the sink. I let the water run over them. After a quiet minute, Mom’s hand landed on my shoulder. I let her touch press into me, stifling the urge to knock her hand away.

I hope you know you can talk to me, she said. No matter what’s going on.

I swallowed. At this point, there was no use professing I was just fine. She was letting me know she saw right through me, a skill I once considered more sentimental than manipulative. I could only do my best to conceal my knowledge for a while longer and hope she chalked my uneasy behavior up to the original adoption issues. Or boy problems.

I love you, Olivia. She squeezed my arm.

I unclenched my teeth. I love you, too, Mom.

I ran through the school parking lot, my backpack flapping against me. Darting past students, I came to our usual bench and sat down in a huff. I looked around with heavy breaths, desperate to find Andre. I checked my phone. We only had five minutes before the bell rang for first period—just enough time for him to fill me in on Emma’s first night. We’d agreed not to text about her. It was too risky in case our messages were intercepted.

At last, I saw him approaching from across the way, his footsteps hurried. He ran a hand through his dark hair and then adjusted his red and navy striped tie, like he’d thrown his school uniform together in haste. Despite my nerves, I smiled at the sight of him, liking his slightly disheveled appearance. I stood up, smoothing my own plaid skirt.

We faced each other, and I fought the instinct to hug him, still not sure exactly where we stood with one another. It was just yesterday we’d argued about Dominic and my unwillingness to keep exploring my past. It placed our relationship in an unsettling position, open for discussion we didn’t really have time for. Andre shifted in place like he, too, wondered how to interact with me. He settled for shoving his hands into his khaki pants.

So… how is she? I asked in a hushed tone. Andre leaned in.

I checked on her this morning before I left for school, and she was still asleep—

Now he knows what I look like when I’m sleeping, I couldn’t help thinking. Having an identical twin around was going to take some getting used to.

Probably the first good night’s sleep she’s had in a while, Andre continued, scratching at his chin. Anyway, I left some muffins and juice on the nightstand. I told her last night we’d be over as soon as school lets out. I think she’ll be okay until we get there.

Jordyn’s backpack fell on top of the bench with a loud thunk. Get where? She gathered her dark hair into a low side ponytail, waiting expectantly for an answer. At our silence, she squinted at us as we exchanged indecisive looks. She threw her arms across her chest. You two are the worst liars ever. Spill it.

Andre lifted his shoulders at me. It’s your secret, he seemed to say. I sat with indecision, trying to figure out how to explain this bizarre twist in my life. Jordyn had been my best friend since second grade. With her zesty personality, she wasn’t usually one to keep quiet about anything in her life. Plus, there was little time or words that could adequately express yesterday’s unexpected events.

The bell rang, but that wouldn’t save me from Jordyn’s scorn if I didn’t give her something. I can’t tell you, I started. As she geared up to fire back with what had to be a tart response, I put a hand on her arm. You wouldn’t believe me if you didn’t see for yourself. Meet me at my car after school.

Jordyn’s protest became lost in the hustle of students moving toward their first-period class, and I took advantage of the exit strategy. Swept up in the tide of students, I glanced over my shoulder. Jordyn stared back at me with one hand on her hip and a worried expression that likely matched my own.

Chapter Two

Olivia

W hy all the secrecy? Jordyn asked. "It’s not like you to drum up drama. That’s my job. You’re acting like you’re about to show me a body."

I glanced at Andre.

See, that. That right there, Jordyn accused, pointing her finger at my expression. What happened in the last twenty-four hours? You keep making that face.

I pressed my lips into a grim line. "Well, there is a body… Come on." I ignored Jordyn’s wide eyes, following closely behind Andre as he pushed open the double-wide gate attached to the side of his house. We passed the pool on our left, sneaking along a paved path that wrapped around toward the back. By the time we cut across the expansive yard and reached the pool house, the landscaped palms and bushes concealed us from anyone who might be standing by the windows of the main house, namely Andre’s parents. He motioned for me to go ahead.

I put my palm up to Jordyn, silently requesting she wait as I knocked on the door with three quiet taps. In a hushed voice, I called out, Emma? It’s Olivia. I’m coming in. I turned the handle and peered inside the living quarters that consisted of a set of couches and a small kitchen area. I didn’t see her.

Stepping inside the guesthouse, I opened the door on my right to the only other room. I stood still in quiet confusion. The bed was perfectly made, pillows fluffed like no one had rested their head against them. The extra blankets were folded at the end of the bed as though they’d been untouched. The plate of muffin crumbs and the empty glass resting neatly on the nightstand seemed to be the only evidence someone had been here, however briefly.

She was gone.

Emma! I barged further into the room, Andre and Jordyn following closely behind. A sitting chair and a chest of drawers occupied the small space, with a flat-screen on the wall. There was little else to see and nowhere else to go except the attached bathroom. The door remained shut, no sign of light from the crack at the bottom. I can’t believe she left without a word, I murmured. But why wouldn’t she? We’d only spoken for a couple of hours. She didn’t owe me anything, maybe not even the whole truth. My heart panicked. She was the key to understanding everything, and now she’d disappeared.

Liv, what are we doing? Jordyn asked. Who’s Emma?

Andre brushed past me and threw open the bathroom door. He flipped on the light, and we surveyed the perfectly white counters and tile. There were no signs anyone had stepped foot inside this bathroom.

Except for one thing. The dense, warm air smelled of sweet shampoo. I yanked the heavy shower curtain to the side and jumped back with a gasp. Emma lay huddled against the back of the tub with her knees pulled into her chest. The towel wrapped around her torso did little to cover her bare legs. With her chin resting on her knees, Emma’s dirty-blonde hair lay wet and stringy, concealing most of her face. While expressionless, she appeared to be unharmed. I breathed a sigh of relief. Andre stepped out of the bathroom, mumbling he’d wait outside. I kneeled beside her. Emma, what happened? Why are you sitting in the tub with the lights off?

She lifted her head, her face pale and worn with exhaustion. I—I heard someone. More than one.

Jordyn gasped from the doorway, uttering words of disbelief when she caught sight of Emma’s features. I read the questions flying across Jordyn’s face, but shook my head at her.

Not right now, I indicated with a shake of my head.

But— she began, throwing her gaze back and forth. Her arm gestured between us, and she sputtered a few more times before finally letting her jaw drop in silence. That didn’t happen often. Emma looked up at me, though she remained impassive.

That’s my friend, Jordyn.

I know, she said, reminding me with those two words that she’d been following me for weeks, mapping my life before throwing herself into the center of it. Of course she already knew who Jordyn was. She barely seemed fazed by her presence. It had been something else, then, that had spooked her. Someone else.

Emma dropped her chin to her knees again. I heard others. Earlier. I—I cleaned up the room and then I was taking a shower when I heard… men outside the window.

Men? There was fear in her eyes. I didn’t know to what extent she’d been brainwashed about the male gender, but her reaction suggested enough. She’d told us yesterday it’d been Jodie’s job to make sure she didn’t trust anyone, especially men. Did they see you? Hurt you?

She shook her head as Andre’s voice came through the doorway, though he remained respectfully hidden from view. Emma, I’m so sorry. It must have been the gardeners. I completely forgot they come today.

Gardeners—that made sense. Andre’s beautifully landscaped yard was like an oasis in the desert. It would require regular maintenance, and with his dad’s declining health, outside assistance would be needed. Emma sat quietly for a moment, seeming to consider his words. It was then I noticed her clothes sitting in a damp pile by the tub drain. She answered my question before I could ask it.

When I heard the men, I turned off the water. I grabbed my clothes off the floor and the towel, just in case someone came in looking for me. She directed her words toward her toes like she was ashamed. I know it sounds ridiculous. I overreacted, but I just… got scared. I didn’t know who they were or what they might do.

My heart dropped, sensing her panic. Lifting her eyes to mine, she appeared as innocent as when I met her by the creek yesterday. I’m scared all the time, ever since Jodie… She didn’t finish her sentence, but I knew what she didn’t want to say aloud. Jodie—the woman who raised her, and the only person she had consistent contact with throughout her entire life—had abandoned her. She’d been on the run for weeks, fearful and looking over her shoulder the whole time. And then to be left alone and hiding out in Andre’s guesthouse—a stranger she’d only met yesterday—no wonder she freaked.

I’d be scared, too. I wanted to reach out to her. Squeeze her hand. Give her a hug. But my hopes to comfort Emma might only make the situation worse. She made it clear yesterday she did not like to be touched. I could do nothing for Emma except reassure her that she was safe, but did I even know that? Time and privacy were all I had to offer. I brought you a change of clothes from my house. I slipped off my backpack, unzipped it, and laid the clothes I retrieved on the counter. I’ll leave them right here. Take whatever time you need. We’ll be right outside the bathroom when you’re ready.

So we go to the police, Jordyn concluded as she paced between the bed and the window. A woman of action, I knew that would be her reply. I glanced at the bathroom, where silence continued its stifling response behind the closed door. The three of us—Andre, Jordyn, and I—had been shuffling quietly, waiting for Emma to emerge, but she seemed unlikely to join us any time soon. With our extra time, I’d taken the opportunity to fill Jordyn in on everything we’d discovered so far: the twin I’d never known about, the deeper connection to the hermit Jodie, who’d been raising my sister all this time, and Mom, the mastermind behind it all.

Jordyn threw up her arms when I struggled with approving her impromptu game plan. "What? Why the hesitation? I mean, hello— She gestured at her torso. Daughter of a detective, remember? We have help at our fingertips, and my dad would totally be all over this investig—"

She stopped talking when the bathroom door swung open. I flipped around, and all eyes veered toward my twin. Emma stood there running her fingers through her wet hair, her expression uncertain. Dressed in black yoga pants and a scoop-neck T-shirt, it was obvious she appeared more comfortable than she felt inside.

We’re not going to the police. The finality of Emma’s statement made Jordyn frown, but I understood Emma’s response.

We talked about this yesterday, I explained to my friend. We agreed that one of our goals is to minimize public attention. No police, no media… we want as much normalcy as we can maintain.

Normalcy? Jordyn shook her head. "That was robbed from you the second you two were separated. You don’t fight for this kind of normal, Liv. Why would you want things to stay the same with all the shadows and lies surrounding your story? You need to get out from under it—"

The words slipped from my lips fast and were fueled with sudden exasperation. Jordyn, this isn’t your life. You just don’t get it! So until you do— I stopped when she raised a stern eyebrow at me. Andre reached out a hand to touch my elbow, a gentle reminder Jordyn was on my side. She wasn’t the true target of my anger or my embarrassment. The constant hurt shrouding me now. I’m sorry, I began again. I know you’re only minutes into hearing all of this, which really isn’t much more than any of us have had to digest this information. It’s just… my mom is clever.

No. Clever wasn’t the right word. Clever produced the image of a student at the top of her class, bringing about ingenuity and light. Mom was deceitful. Manipulative. Calculative and smart in the most dangerous ways. The actress whose performance cut me off at the knees, destroying my foundation. Those were traits of the woman who raised me I didn’t want to voice aloud, yet still true nonetheless.

My mom has pulled off this scheme for fifteen years, I said. We have no idea the team of people who may have helped her along the way or how deep those connections run.

We also don’t know what she might do when she realizes what we know—that Olivia and I have reconnected, Emma added.

Jordyn gave two slow nods in thought before folding her arms. What’s the plan, then? If you’re not telling the police, are you going to confront your mom?

I wanted to. I desperately needed to. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep up with her games and face off with diversions of my own. The happy family dinners, the half-truths, the perfectly baked cinnamon rolls she offered for breakfast this morning… Every sickeningly sweet bite stuck to my throat, surely not a coincidence she delivered my favorite dish, with the aroma of warm spices stirring sentiment and childhood memories. The feelings conflicted with the shock of yesterday’s discovery, and while Mom didn’t know I was aware of Emma, she felt the strain between us and was desperate to bridge the gap. She needed to control her sense of normalcy even more than I did. Despite every gulp of milk, I couldn’t chase away the flavors fast enough.

Andre stepped forward. "All we know for sure is the depth