Chapter 2
“Where is she?” I ask through the haze of knowing I’ve lost someone so important to me.
Hendrix stands tall and shifts from one foot to the other uncomfortably. My supposed parents’ skin turns ashen as they keep their gazes down to the floor.
Dash steps forward. “She’s in the morgue downstairs,” he says.
Unlike everyone else in the room, he meets my stare.
He looks at me like I’m his last shred of hope of not drowning in a cruel and untamed ocean meant to pull every vessel of life to the murky depths where no sunlight exists.
Maybe it’s because he and I have lost something important to the both of us. My sister.
“I need to see her. But first, I need a mirror,” I say to anyone who will get me what I’m asking for.
My parents’ stare finally meets mine in what seems to be equal parts shock and denial, and Hendrix is rubbing his jaw as Dash pulls out his phone. “This isn’t a mirror, but you can turn the camera on and use the forward-facing lens.”
He hands it to me, and the moment I take it from him, our fingers brush. A tingle shoots up my arm.
“I don’t know if this is the best idea, London,” Hendrix says.
“It’s clear that no one knows what’s right here. But at least Dash is trying to understand what I need,” I snap to the spectators gathered in my room.
Hendrix shakes his head and crosses his arms but wisely stays silent.
My hand trembles as I stare at the phone. Will I recognize my own face? What if I don’t?
I slowly lift the phone so it shows me what I look like. My left eye is purple, and there’s an impressive cut held together with butterfly bandages that spans from my eyebrow to my hairline. The entire left side of my face is swollen and bruised.
I see my face on the screen, but I’m still not sure I recognize it, especially this way.
I close Dash’s camera, and his screensaver is a picture of us.
Wait, no, a picture of him and Lennon. I see the same face in the picture that I saw in the camera screen seconds ago.
But this face is not marred with bruises and cuts. It’s beautiful and happy.
“I need to see my sister,” I blurt out, determined to take back whatever small slivers of my memory I possibly can.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. You’re in no condition to move right now. You’ve been through two surgeries in the past four days, and you’ve been in a coma,” Hendrix says with the authority of his position as a doctor.
“I don’t care. Don’t you understand? I don’t care how I see her. Bring her to me here in this room if you have to, but don’t think for a moment I won’t find a way to get to her if you don’t,” I say to him. And I mean it.
“Fine. I’ll get someone to bring her to you.
But you have five minutes with her. Then she goes back to the morgue.
It’s against protocol. And I don’t want you to get hurt,” he says through gritted teeth like he thinks I’ll have a setback if I see my twin that way.
But I have to. I’m not sure how much worse things could get anyway.
“Look at me. Nothing could hurt me any more than I already am.”
With one last glance from me to my parents, he breezes out of the room.
“London, are you sure this is a good idea?” my mother asks, concern laced in her voice.
“I need to see her with my own eyes,” I answer. “Maybe seeing her will trigger a memory.”
“I can’t…” She trails off and waves her hand in the air.
My eyes fill with tears even though I can understand her reluctance. “Then leave. I know you’re supposed to be my mother, and I know how painful this must be for you. But I’ve lost everything. If you can’t stand to be in here when I see my sister, then I need you to leave now.”
“London, that’s not fair. We want to support you in whatever way you need, but this is a living nightmare for us as parents. We’ve lost a child and almost lost another all in the span of one night,” the man with the salt-and-pepper hair who I assume is my dad says.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Don’t call me London. I know that might be my name, but I can’t remember it. Don’t force me to be someone I have no memory of being.”
He swallows hard but nods. Then, he and my mother exit the room together.
Dash is the last man standing.
“Aren’t you going to bolt too? I don’t need a babysitter.” I feel bad at how crass I sound.
“I mean, you don’t have to see her if it’s going to cause you more pain,” I say softly.
He holds my stare. “I won’t leave until you ask me to.”
“Why? Do you really think they got it wrong? You think I’m Lennon and it’s London who died instead?” I ask.
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I know what the accident report said. But the way you were driving…” He falls silent.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Lennon is a race car driver. She knows how to handle herself behind the wheel. And she just—”
“Then maybe you’re wrong. If I was Lennon and I can handle a car so well, how did we end up in an accident this bad?” I ask waving my right arm over my body.
“I don’t know. But I’m damn sure going to find out,” he says. His jaw is set in determination.
“That’s not a lot of proof of me being Lennon.”
“Maybe not. But as much as I love Lennon, I just know I’d feel her loss in my soul. And I don’t. I’m hurting, yes. But I’m hurting for Lennon…because she is the one who lost her sister. And everyone who knows you knows how close you are.”
He’s so serious and sure of himself. I’m almost jealous because I’m not sure of anything right now.
“There’s something else—” He’s cut off by Hendrix wheeling in who must be my sister. He pulls the bed over, right next to mine and unzips the black bag but doesn’t open it.
“Shut the door and leave. Give me my five minutes, please.”
They both start to leave but I stop them.
“Dash, if you think you can handle it, do you mind staying?” I ask. It’s a big ask and I know it is. I have no right, and I can’t explain why, but I need him in here.
He glances at Hendrix who then glances back at me and nods before quietly closing the door.
“Thank you. Can you open the bag so I can see her face?” I ask.
He hesitates but eventually moves to do as I’ve asked.
When he reveals her face, he sucks in a breath and looks away.
My chest aches so deeply when I see her.
She looks just like who I saw on screen.
She looks like me. We’re identical. I want to hold her hand, but I know I can’t.
And even though I feel a hole in my chest, I feel like a piece of me clicked back into place.
I close my eyes and I can almost see her in the back of my mind. She’s vibrant and laughing. So full of life. She’s reaching for my hand and then my eyes fly open when I hear Dash’s voice.
“Do you remember anything when you look at her?” he asks still turned away.
“Maybe. But it’s more of a feeling than an actual memory,” I tell him.
I commit her face to whatever memory I have left and then ask Dash to cover her again. Before he does, his gaze studies her one more time. Then, he zips the bag.
He’s about to say something when Hendrix comes in. “It’s time,” he says.
I nod, swiping tears from my face with my right hand. His brows furrow in concern before he takes my sister away from me once more.
But he stops at the door and stares at Dash. “Visiting hours are over,” he says before he disappears down the hall.
“We need to talk, Len—” He stops himself. “There are things to say. Just…please hear me out when you can. I’m not trying to push you. But know I’m here when you’re ready and I’ll be close by watching out for you,” he says.
He leans in and doesn’t kiss my lips, but he does kiss my forehead.
I feel him tremble a little, and then he pulls back and wipes his eyes.
He stares at my face one more time like he can resurrect Lennon before walking out the door and leaving me alone reeling.
Why do I feel more of a connection to him than anyone else?
There should be ways to tell twins apart.
Little marks or scars. Dental records. Surely there is something that isn’t identical between us.
Dash has to be wrong. He’s just in shock. Maybe the part of me who knows I’ve lost Lennon is connecting with him because he lost her too.
My head hurts. My body hurts. But my heart hurts even more.
I close my eyes and start to drift off and it’s there that I see her again.
But this time when she reaches for my hand, I see myself take it, just before I fall asleep.
If my dreams are the only place I can see her, I’ll try to dream as much as I can.
Because seeing her makes me feel whole again. Even if it’s only in my dreams.