Page 20 of Never the Same

Why do you feel so familiar if I can’t even remember who I am? That also reminded me, what did I look like?

“How are you?” He broke the quiet, standing at the end of the bed, never losing sight of me. Like he was worried if he blinked, I’d vanish. Maybe disappear for good down that rabbit hole.

“How do I know you?” My question back probably just answered his in a roundabout way.

He couldn’t mask his concern, or his sadness, the way my brothers had. It was sharp and distinct; his worry bled into me. When he quietly peered at my brothers, they shook their heads, confirming I was still an empty vessel of random knowledge and skills, and that was it.

“Wait,” I blurted out when it dawned on me, and I lifted my hand to try to propel myself into the past with a gentle push. “I hit you on the street, didn’t I?”

The man touched his jaw, nodding. “You did.”

“You didn’t hit me back.”

“Never,” he breathed out.

I dropped my hand to my lap, hoping and praying he answered no to my next question. “You’re not another brother, are you?”

“Definitely not related to you.”

Thank God. My memories may have been MIA, but I was attracted to him.

“I’m relieved you’re safe, but I’m, uh, sorry about . . .”

“Forgetting everything?” I finished for him, shocked that I smiled. Maybe I was a little like my twin?

The side of the man’s mouth pulled to the right, fighting a smile before he lightly nodded.

Who are you to me? “Your name?” I whispered.

He retrieved a wallet from his back pocket and walked around Gideon as if he wasn’t even there and handed it to me. I appreciated the proof without having to ask, but the moment our fingers made contact, a little jolt of something hit me, and he subtly cleared his throat and pulled away.

“Jason Reed, but I go by Reed,” he said as I noted his place of residence and age: Charleston, and thirty-eight this October.

I handed him back his ID, and he took it without touching me. “And how old am I?” I asked.

“Thirty-five at the end of September, which is next month,” Julian answered while standing, and now a line of three men stood protectively alongside my bed, but I only had the urge to hug one.

“Which name do you call me?” Why’d it also feel like we were alone in here, that we didn’t have my brothers hanging on to our every word?

Reed returned his wallet to his back jeans pocket. “Hollis, because that’s what you prefer.”

“Hollis,” I repeated, waiting for it to fit somewhere in my mind. “Any chance I could see what I look like?”

“I set a mirror on the nightstand in case you needed one.” Julian walked around the bed, picked it up, and handed it to me.

I lifted it slowly, a little nervous about meeting myself, but the woman in the mirror was pretty. She (me) had a symmetrical face. High cheekbones. Full lips with a determined tilt. Skin that was almost annoyingly perfect and either money-bought or genetically blessed. Long dark-brown hair with a few dyed-red strands at the front framed my face. And I had the same eyes as Julian, but unlike him, I had a small scar cutting through my right brow.

“How’d I get this?” I pointed to the mark, eyeing my twin.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” Julian said as I handed him back the mirror. “But don’t worry, it’ll come back to you.”

“I feel betrayed by my brain, that’s all I know.” I slumped back against the headboard, lightheadedness starting to set in. “Anything else super important I should know?”

“One more sibling we didn’t mention,” Julian said slowly. “A half brother, Tristan.”

“Julian,” Gideon said in warning, “she doesn’t need to know about that now.”

“What don’t I need to know?”