“Homework,” I say. “Been swamped.” I’m not going to be able to brush him off. But that doesn’t mean we’ll be having any deep conversations. I couldn’t. Pretending like that—it would break me. When we make it to our regular table, the Similars are already there. Maude raises an eyebrow when she sees Duplicate Ollie plop down next to me, and I shrug.
“Ollie,” I say, hating every second of this but knowing it’s necessary. “Has your mom buzzed you at all? Told you why she left Darkwood?”
Theodora shoots me a look, but I ignore her. As far as Jane knows, Ollie is himself. I’m sure that’s Ollie’s actual plum he has on his wrist. His clothes, his books. It’s sickening to think about how Gravelle’s men must have made the switch, installing this clone into Ollie’s real life, so I don’t let myself. All I know is that if Jane contacted Ollie, then this Ollie would be the recipient of that buzz.
“I got a quick note yesterday. She said it was something to do with the family business,” Ollie says between bites of oatmeal. “My mom had to deal with it in person.”
A shiver goes up and down my spine. I’m more sure than ever, now, that Gravelle had something to do with this. He’s a majority shareholder in Ward, Inc. and has been ever since he manipulated Levi into taking that stock. Maybe Gravelle doesn’t want us to tell Jane what we know and, realizing somehow that we’d found out about Ollie, he lured her away.
Maybe I’m just losing my grip on reality. I set my spoon down, unable to eat another bite.
Instead, I pull up the email from Oxford on my tablet to show my friends. I need the distraction right now, unwelcome as their letter is. Maude pulls up one of her own, explaining she was also wait-listed until further notice. So was Theodora. Duplicate Ollie grabs my tablet from my hand and scans it, confused and ticked off. I tell him what Harlowe’s done.
“You have to call them and explain,” he responds. “Tell them I was already planning on spending the summer with you there! This is unacceptable. What about my bangers and mash?”
My heart flips. This isn’t Ollie. This is a stand-in who thinks he’s my best friend. And I’m going to have to spend the foreseeable future pretending he’s not an imposter. Pippa, Ansel, Jago, and Levi rescue me from having to respond. They jump in to say they were accepted, though they make it clear they haven’t committed to going. Ansel’s exploring NYU, where Archer goes. Levi sounds like the whole idea of college doesn’t appeal to him, though I can’t pinpoint why. I don’t look at him, but I secretly agree; without Ollie, what’s the point of thinking about the future at all? But this isn’t about me. It’s about Harlowe, and her vindictive scheme against us.
“She keeps trying to one-up us,” I mutter. “But we can make sure her rally’s dead in the water, can’t we? Jane will cancel it when she returns to campus. She’s already said she’s dismantling DAAM. Revoking their charter.”
“Why do I feel like Harlowe will find a way to throw the rally anyway?” Pippa says.
“Let’s make sure she doesn’t,” Maude responds neatly as she digs into her breakfast. “But just in case, I have something else in the works. Something Harlowe is really not going to like.”
We all stare at Maude as she chews. “What?” Theodora finally yells, then lowers her voice. “That’s all you’re going to tell us?”
“For now? Yes,” Maude answers.
• • •
The next few weeks pass uneventfully—in the worst way. With each new day, I’m increasingly disturbed that Jane hasn’t returned to campus yet. Why? What’s happening in California that’s pressing enough for her to abandon her post at Darkwood? And worse—what if I’ve made a huge mistake by not telling her about Ollie?
On top of that, we all feel awful that we’re attending classes and choir concerts and school assemblies while Ollie is likely trapped on Castor Island. But we know that trying to rescue him there, without a plan, without knowing what Gravelle wants, could prove deadly for all of us. I have to admit, I feel very alone, more so than ever. I know my friends care that Ollie’s missing. But apart from Pru, who loves Ollie nearly as much as I do, I can’t help but feel resentful that Maude, Theodora, and the others don’t really understand my loss. They want to. They know intellectually how terrifying this is for me. But Ollie isn’t one of their own. They simply can’t know how devastated I am over this—with the exception of Levi, who, in his own way, may understand me more than I’m willing to admit.
The only problem is, he and I still aren’t speaking. Not about anything real.
I move in a fog from class to meals to Ten meetings, barely aware of the day or time, following Dash’s gentle reminders that it’s time to eat or get out of bed. The only silver lining is learning that Harlowe, Ivy, and Graham were sentenced to a month of duty for hanging that poster of me. Jane ordered it before she abruptly left for California. They shoot us dirty looks from across the dining hall, but we mostly avoid interacting. Maude holds off on the midnight sessions. We’re not eager to spend any extra time with Harlowe.
In a school-wide announcement, Principal Fleischer reminds us that Dark Weekend is only a week away. I feel dread at the thought of having to see my dad again. It’s hard enough being around Duplicate Ollie. But facing my dad now, after he never made any attempt to say he was sorry—it’s too much. I don’t know if I can handle all the pent-up emotion roiling inside of me. I might break.
I pray my dad will be too busy with his work to make the trip, but no such luck this time. He buzzes me that he’ll be there, and he’s hoping we can talk. Unless he can find Ollie, talking is the last thing I want to do.
The Friday of Dark Weekend dawns bright and crisp. It’s a frigid February morning, but at least the sun is out. Still, that offers me little consolation as I stand in the circular drive in front of the main house, shivering, and not just from the cold, but because my whole world is off-kilter.
I watch as Jaeger Stanwick ambles up the hill and greets Pippa and Pru. Frederica Leroy exits a limo, clad in a dramatic cape and heels, and she approaches Theodora, who waves half-heartedly from the brick path. Following Frederica out of the limo like a loyal puppy dog is a harried-looking Tessa. I assume she must be officially out of Creekside. It’s been more than six months since her court-ordered tenure began. I’m a little surprised to see her here, at Dark Weekend, but I guess she had nothing else to do.
Then I hear Frederica loudly insisting that Tessa talk to Principal Fleischer about internship opportunities.
“Dartmouth wants you to have some real-life work experience before you matriculate in the fall,” Frederica hisses at Tessa. “Go on. Talk to Principal Fleischer. Now!” She practically pushes Tessa in Fleischer’s direction.
I feel for Tessa in that moment. As much as I take issue with the girl and what she put Pru through last year, I wouldn’t wish that awkward conversation with Fleischer on anyone. Still, she’s lucky Dartmouth is taking her at all after what she did, even if it wasn’t entirely her fault. I see Tessa shuffle her feet in her platform wedges before hobbling over to Fleischer.
“Emma,” says a voice, commanding my attention. I lift my gaze from Tessa over to where my father stands, buttoned up as usual in a suit, his rolling suitcase at his side. I tense up but try not to show it. We exchange a cursory hug before walking down with the rest of the school to the chapel, where assembly will start in a few minutes.
“Did you open your Christmas gift?” my father asks as we stroll down the path, the wind whipping us and snow flurries starting to fall. I catch a few on my mitten, doing whatever I can to hold it together.
“Yes,” I answer. “I opened it.”
“Good,” he says. “I meant what I wrote. This trip will be for us. No work, no distractions. I want the chance to get to know you again, sweetie. To make up for lost time.”
Is this my father’s half-hearted attempt at an apology? Though a part of me welcomes it like fresh
oxygen, another part of me wants to shut down this conversation entirely.
“Can we not do this now?” I plead with him. He can’t know how much I have on my mind right now. If he did, he’d understand why this isn’t the time to pick up our curtailed discussion from Christmas break. I might crack from the intensity of it all.
We reach the chapel and follow the growing crowd through the double doors. Sliding into a pew, my father at my side, I spot Bianca Huxley across the way. She and Maude aren’t sitting together, but she’s here. Fresh off the campaign trail, she’s dressed in a smart Chanel suit and pearls. I recoil thinking of her latest stump speeches and her stance on cloning.
I catch sight of Levi across the aisle, noting with a pang that he’s sitting alone. Booker and Jane aren’t here to support him for the weekend. And even if Jane were here, she wouldn’t be here for Levi. Only Ollie. Levi and Jane never were given a second chance to reconcile, and I don’t know that they ever will. That thought makes me infinitely sad.
I’m drawn out of my thoughts when Principal Fleischer steps up to the podium. She welcomes everyone to Dark Weekend and begins a bland speech about excellence that captures none of my attention. Ollie slides in next to me, and for my father’s sake, I have to act like everything’s normal. Like this isn’t a copy of my best friend.
The only part of Fleischer’s speech I catch is the end, when she informs us that the Ten dinner is canceled this year. Jane isn’t back yet from California, and Fleischer believes the dinner is a frivolous, unnecessary affair. Even though I can’t stand Fleischer’s brand of education—devoid of any fun or humor—I’m secretly relieved. That dinner would have been another event I’d have to sit through, pretending I’m okay.
My father insists on taking me to out to a restaurant on Saturday night, before he leaves early Sunday morning on the first flight back to San Francisco. I reluctantly agree, because I can’t think of an excuse to get me out of it. But when he asks Ollie to join us, I inwardly cringe. It’s not my father’s fault; he has no idea that Ollie isn’t himself. I hope I can rush us through the meal as quickly as possible.
I’m still considering telling my dad everything. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since he got here. I’ve run scenario after scenario in my head. How he might be able to help us, if I told him the truth about Ollie’s Duplicate. How he might just as easily insist on going to the authorities or the FBI, putting Ollie in grave danger without meaning to. How he might try to protect me, and his company, instead of putting Ollie first.
We’re at a cramped Italian restaurant downtown, near my father’s hotel, silently eating spaghetti while Duplicate Ollie shares details with us about the new documentary film he’s working on. Ollie’s copy is oblivious to all my woes, of course, though a part of me wonders if he can tell something’s been off with me for weeks.
“Stress,” I tell him when he asks me if I’m okay. “Waiting to hear from colleges. I promise, that’s all it is.”
My father’s quiet, but that’s no surprise; he’s a man of few words as it is, and he never was good at father-daughter outings like this one.
I’m about to suggest we skip dessert—desperate as I am to end this whole affair and send my father back to his hotel, and California—when I get a buzz on my plum.
Eager for any excuse to flee this dinner, even momentarily, I gaze down at the message, even though I know it’s rude. How many times has my father left a dinner midway through to attend to business? I know he won’t dare say anything.
I’m surprised when I see who the message is from: Jane.
Emma, I only have a second. I’m writing because I think you’ll know what to do. There’s no time, they’re outside my study door, two men, I think they want to take—
The buzz stops there, midsentence. I read it again, to be sure I’m not imagining things.
Take what? Take her? Two men? Outside her study?
My stomach drops to my feet, and I think I’m going to be sick if I don’t get out of this cramped, hot restaurant.
“Air,” I tell Ollie and my dad. “I just—need. Air.”
I bolt. When I make it outside onto the sidewalk, I suck in the cold air in gulps. It burns my chest, and I double over, panting, feeling like I can’t breathe. The Vermont chill is choking me. Suffocating me.
Two men, trying to take Jane? But who? And why? How did she write me this buzz? They must have been in her house, and she momentarily got away from them. She was in her study, she said.
But who would take her? Why would they take her?
My insides turn to icicles as it dawns on me exactly why they’d take her.
Why Gravelle would lure her back home, to California, with a made-up work emergency involving Ward, Inc.
Why he would send two men to kidnap her like he kidnapped Ollie.
There’s only one possible reason. To replace her with a Duplicate.
The Replacements
My mind races as I process this. Jane is being kidnapped as we speak. Replaced with a copy. I’m sure of it.
A voice in my head playing devil’s advocate tells me I must be wrong. Duplicates have all been copies of original kids. Like Tessa, Archer, and Jake. And Ollie.
Not adults. Not parents.
But this is Gravelle’s master plan, isn’t it? I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before. This is what he meant by the Legacy Project. Gravelle would never just replace Ollie—his plans are never that small, that simple.
No, I’m sure now that his plan, this entire year, has been to replace all the DNA parents with clones.
My heart races as I remember where I am. Standing in front of the restaurant, with my father inside. My father. It hits me all at once that if I’m right, that might not really be my father in there. It’s likely his copy.
The realization slams into me like a body blow.
“Dash,” I ask, my voice breathless. “I need your help. Ask Genevieve if my father hired interior designers to come to our house over Christmas break.”
“Certainly, Emma. Your heart rate is elevated.”
“I know!”
Seconds later, Dash reports back. “There are no such employees on record, Emmaline. Why?”
I can’t answer. My voice feels stuck in my throat. Those weren’t designers. They came to my house to replace my father. To install his Duplicate. I’m sure of it.
I buzz Maude and ask her to meet me here, with the infrared light.
There’s only one way to know for sure if my father’s an imposter or not. I’ll have to check for the time stamp on his wrist.
But first, I call Jane. I get her voicemail, of course, but I don’t leave a message. What if she’s not the one who would receive it? I can’t take that risk.
Before I can figure out what to do next, Duplicate Ollie’s at my side. “Em? Don’t tell me again that you’re okay. Because I know you aren’t. What’s wrong?”
I rack my brain for an excuse but can’t think of anything to say except that I’m sick, which isn’t far from the truth. I do feel sick, totally off-kilter, like my world is spinning. “I think I’m coming down with something,” I tell him, hoping I sound convincing. “But let’s go back inside. I want to finish dinner before my dad has to leave.”
I need to kill time now, until Maude gets here. It’s torture, but I know how important it is I get a chance to scan my father’s wrists. If my theory is right, and he’s a Duplicate, I’ll know for sure why those men were trying to take Jane.
For the first time ever, I’m grateful to Ollie’s Duplicate for launching into another long-winded story about his latest documentary subject. Heart pounding wildly in my chest, I keep glancing at my plum, barely holding it together as I fear for Jane. I feel so helpless to act, to do anything that could save her.
Maude arrives right as my father’s paying the bill. I slip out to talk to her
privately, hoping Ollie will continue to keep my father occupied while I confess my suspicions. That my dad’s a Duplicate. That Jane’s being replaced as we speak.
Maude’s shocked by my news but rallies quickly. I sometimes forget how strong she is. How capable. “How do you want to do it?” she asks, indicating the infrared light.
“There is no good way, is there?” I say. “I’ll distract Ollie. He can’t see this.”
She nods, and we both head inside the restaurant. I pull Ollie aside, asking him privately to please skip dessert because I don’t feel well but don’t want to worry my dad. I make sure Ollie’s back is turned to our table, but I have a direct line of sight to Maude sitting down next to my dad, grabbing his right wrist, and shining the light on it.
I don’t know why I’m so stunned to see it there: the time stamp, plain as day.
003.68.
“Emma? What’s going on?” my father asks, looking confused. I’m too shocked to speak. At least he doesn’t seem to understand what we’ve just uncovered. Gravelle must have programmed him that way—all of them—not to know anything about the time stamps except during the five minutes a day when they communicate with him.
“I have to go. I love you, Dad,” I say quickly before taking Maude by the arm and fleeing. Duplicate Ollie says a quick goodbye to my dad and follows after us. I explain to him hastily I might throw up and just need a good night’s sleep.
I feel a pang of distress over leaving my dad so abruptly, but I have to remind myself that that man is not really my father. My father is somewhere else, probably Castor Island, locked up, hopefully not tortured. Or dead.
Back on campus, a protective Maude promises Ollie she’ll get me back to my room and will stay with me to make sure I’m not feverish. Duplicate Ollie looks skeptical but agrees, promising to check on me in the morning. Once Ollie’s gone, Maude and I double back to the circular drive, where our friends are waiting for us when we get there.
The Pretenders Page 22
