Elodie
Icrouch behind the grimy window, palm sweating against the hilt of the scalpel. The hazy sunlight glints off the wickedly sharp blade.
Uncle Nik’s voice crackles from my earpiece. “The limo should be almost there. He’s alone in the backseat. Hard and fast, Elodie, before anyone can help him. You’re ready?”
My voice creaks past the lump in my throat. “Yeah.”
Not enough time for even the swiftest poison to work. This is the only way.
My hand trembles. I yank the scoop neckline of my tank top even lower.
As I brace the tip of the blade over my heart, my pulse thuds so loud it drowns out the rumble of traffic on the road below the apartment building and the chirping of the sparrows that nested on the railing of the Juliet balcony.
I’ll do this so fast, and then it’ll be over. I’m doing something no one else can do. Ridding the world of someone who’ll hurt so many more people if I don’t.
My hand keeps shaking. I swallow hard.
The limo glides into view. I train my gaze on the back window, reaching my awareness across the distance to the figure I know is sitting there, and focus my glim.
My heart stutters its next beat.
Then I plunge the scalpel straight through my flesh with a blare of pain and?—
I jerk awake tangled in Other Elodie’s silk sheets. Again.
The ridiculously soft fabric sticks to my skin, damp with sweat the duvet’s temperature-moderating effects couldn’t prevent. My heart is racing away like it’s hoping to break right out of my chest.
I blink a few times, dispelling the fragments of the dream-memory clinging to my head. Nausea remains pooled in my stomach.
With a huff, I shove myself upright.
I can’t think about what’s already happened right now. I have to concentrate on what needs to be done today.
Today I’m going to get some answers. If I can keep my head on straight.
Toward that goal, I peel myself out of the covers and hunker down on the floor for my usual exercise routine. A more welcome sweat trickles down my back and coats my forehead, cooling during my grounding meditation afterward. Then the hot spray of my private shower washes it all down the drain.
I repeat my mantra silently with every motion.I have all I need. I have all I need.
I’m ready forthis.
I go down to breakfast dressed in a typical Other Elodie weekend outfit of fitted blouse, flared skirt, and matching tights. Aunt Daphne breezes in as I’m gulping the last of my coffee.
“Looking forward to the social tonight?” she asks with one of her bright smiles, as if she yanked me across realities to party with my classmates.
I force a smile in return. “For sure. I’m going to go out and look into a couple of things this morning too.”
A shadow darts through Daphne’s eyes at the reminder of my actual mission. She recovers with a brisk nod. “I know you’ve been giving your… project your all.”
She has no clue how true that is.
I head out of the house with one of my double’s larger purses swaying at my side. Maurice drops me off at the uptown mall without comment.
I head straight into a bathroom stall and begin my transformation.
Cute outfit is traded for black dress pants, one of my white school shirts, and the indigo school vest. Not a perfect match for the uniform I’m going to emulate, but close enough to make the illusion easier to nail.
Before donning the shirt, I wrap my breasts with a long strip of gauze to flatten them as much as possible. Thank the radiants my chest isn’t worthy of bawdy poetry to begin with.
