I cross my arms to hug away a chill. The trembling continues because it’s not based on body temp but adrenaline from past trauma. I take a deep breath and simply let it all out. “I’m an identical twin. My sister and I have similar fingerprints. It actually gave us issues when Mom and Dad had our prints taken for a child identification program. After she had her prints taken, the computer wouldn’t accept mine.” Karson remains quiet, so I keep babbling. “The technician said it’s rare, and computers are getting better at reading the differences. But …” I shrug. “Here we are.”
He blinks, which is as fazed as I’ve ever seen him. “You have an evil twin?” he deadpans.
A guffaw escapes. What would Jewel think about being called my evil twin and, more significantly, why did she not immediately come to mind when my fingerprints turned up a warrant? “Pretty much.”
Karson lifts his chin. “Does she live in a volcanic lair?”
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips. He does have a sense of humor. “Not quite. It’s more of a three-story modern monstrosity built into the side of a mountain.”
“Mount St. Helens?”
The volcano in Washington blew before Jewel and I were born, but that’s still a funny thought. I imagine her laughing like a supervillain from her lair. “Arlington Heights.”
“A single mom in Arlington Heights? Did she remarry?”
Does he find my story suspicious? As he previously alluded to income, he must know Jewel makes good money in order to be the one paying child support. “No. She’s a psychologist.”
He looks me up and down as if wondering what happened to hold me back from becoming as successful as my dear sister. Maybe he’d rather date her. I brace for his next question. “What makes her an evil genius?”
The question isn’t so bad. I relax a little.
While most other twins I meet seem to be close, we had a falling out about ten years ago. “In high school she was class president, and she rigged homecoming elections so I wouldn’t be crowned queen. We’re pretty much Jacob and Esau because she stole my birthright.”
Pause. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”
“You asked.” I drop my arms to my sides so he can see I’m being completely open and honest. I have nothing to hide.
He considers me. “What’s her name?”
“Jewel.”
His gaze slides sideways toward the computer screen that started it all. “That’s not your alias?”
“Hardly.” I can prove my fingerprints had pulled up Jewel’s background instead of my own. “If you’d accepted the social-media friend request I sent you, you would be able to see all my family connections. Here, I’ll send the request again.”
I pull my phone out of my purse and angle it away from him so when I open the app, he doesn’t see his own profile immediately pop up. I wasn’t stalking him. I was just checking in on him before coming to today’s class to ensure he’s still single. I pretend to scroll around on my phone for a second to make him think I’m searching for him, then I hitAdd Friend.
His phone buzzes in his pocket. He keeps his arms crossed. “I only use social media for close friends and family.”
Challenge accepted. We’ll become close friends. For now … “Fine. I’ll show you.”
I tap on my sister’s name to pull up her profile. Her cover picture is of my six-year-old niece and three-year-old nephew at Disneyland. They’re little towheads with big brown eyes. I hope my kids will be as darling. I turn the phone to face Karson. “This is Daisy and Forrest. Aren’t they the sweetest?”
Karson glances at my screen. “Adorable.” When his gaze reconnects with mine, I can see his curiosity has returned.
I’ll take his begrudging interest. That’s improvement.
“Your sister had two children while becoming a psychologist?”
Dang. His interest is still in my sister. “Yes. Her husband stayed home with them so she could finish her residency ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, her being a workaholic ended their marriage. He still keeps the kids during the week so she can pursue her career, which is why she pays him child support.”
He tilts his head toward the computer displaying my fingerprints. “You mean why she’ssupposedto pay him child support.”
My lips quirk into a smile. I’m relieved not to be arrested, and I’m now enjoying this bonding experience. “Yeah.”
He lifts his chin, a form of acceptance far superior to the kind on social media. His eyes may still be cool, but being in their sights is as refreshing as the mist from a waterfall.
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll do another background check, and once I get this cleared up, I’ll let you go. But you need to tell your sister to pay her child support so I don’t have to arresther.”
