The Shadow Girl

by Jennifer Archer

  The waitress appears and refills Jake’s coffee. As she leaves, he says, “I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but I want you to know that I was close to your folks, Lily. Iris and I were together for two years—from the time I was sixteen—so I got to know them pretty well. People don’t tend to change all that much. They loved Iris more than anything, and I can’t imagine they didn’t feel the same about you from the moment you were born.”

  “I know,” I say. “I’m just upset. And I’m having a hard time understanding how Dad allowed any of this. I mean, I’ve read about animal cloning. There can be problems. Defects. A lot of the cloned animals die young.” A shudder rifles through me. “How could he take that risk with his own child?”

  “They loved Iris so much, and your mom just couldn’t let her go,” Jake says. “When the doctors said she wouldn’t survive, Beckett approached your parents with the idea, but Adam refused because of those very reasons you mentioned.”

  “I thought they found the solution to those problems,” Ty says, picking up his fork. “I remember reading about a breakthrough in the research. Didn’t later testing produce animals without any abnormalities?”

  “Yes,” Jake confirms. “But human cloning raises a whole other set of concerns. Apparently Beckett didn’t have any moral or ethical issues with it, but Adam did.”

  An old man shuffles to the table behind us. As he passes by, I smell cigarette smoke on his clothing and the scent triggers a memory. A voice crackles at the back of my mind and a memory flickers before me . . . Iris’s memory . . .

  “Think about it, Adam.” The cigarette trembles between my mother’s fingers. “We don’t have to lose her. Iris could live again. Please. Ian wants to help us.”

  The vision fades along with Mom’s voice. Blinking, I say to Jake, “My mother was on Beckett’s side about the cloning, wasn’t she.”

  “Yes.” Watching me with a curious expression, he adds, “Beckett told your dad that if he was uncomfortable taking part in the actual process, he could do it alone. He promised that no one else would ever be told. But Adam wouldn’t hear of it. He refused to allow Iris to become Beckett’s first human subject. His guinea pig, so to speak.”

  The scent of the cigarette smoke still lingers, drawing me back to fragments of Iris’s memories. I still don’t know how I have them, how it’s scientifically possible that they transfer to me. But I can’t come up with another explanation for what I’m experiencing, any more than I can make sense of the other aspects of our connection.

  “So Mom arranged to go behind Dad’s back,” I murmur, seeing into my sister’s past.

  Jake nods. “Beckett came to the house one day when your father was away. Iris overheard their conversation, and she told me about it. She was really sick that day and it was all she could do to take the stairs down. She hid in the hallway and listened to Beckett tell your mother that he didn’t need Adam’s help to carry out the procedure, or Iris’s cooperation, for that matter. It was almost as simple as drawing blood and about that painful.”

  “Did Iris understand what they were talking about?” Ty asks.

  “Not at first, but then Beckett started trying to ease Melanie’s mind about problems that had occurred in the past with animal cloning—things like physical and mental defects and increased speed of aging and shortened lifespans. He mentioned the success they’d had at the lab over the prior couple of years cloning red kangaroos.”

  Agnes, Iris whispers. She was afraid of him.

  My breath hitches. “Was one of the kangaroos named Agnes?”

  “Yes!” Jake gives a short laugh. “I’d forgotten that. Adam took Iris and me to see her once at the lab. She was fine until Beckett walked in, then she freaked out. Iris was convinced that he was mean to the animals when no one was looking.”

  They were just experiments to him, Iris whispers harshly. So was I.

  “Beckett mentioned Agnes to your mother that day to plead his case,” Jake continues. “How Agnes was healthy and normal, and the fact that she and her original looked exactly alike, right down to their markings.”

  “She let him turn her against Dad.” I shake my head, disgusted with my mother.

  “She was desperate to save her daughter,” Jake says.

  “But it didn’t work out like she planned.” I look away, trying to tamp down my anger at Mom, then turn to him again. “Did Iris confront them? Mom and Beckett, I mean?”

  “Not Beckett. She came to me first, and I told her she should talk to your mother. So she told Melanie what she’d overheard, and that she wasn’t willing to let him do the cloning. That he was just trying to take advantage of Melanie’s grief to get what he wanted. There was no way he could bring her back—the clone wouldn’t be the same person she was.”

  I see the instant Jake realizes he’s referring to me. He shifts uncomfortably.

  “Why didn’t Iris go to Dad?” I ask him.

  “Your mother promised she’d forget the whole thing since it upset Iris so much. She asked Iris not to tell Adam because he’d be angry that she’d considered going against his wishes.”

  “She lied.” I stare outside at the cars in the parking lot. “I don’t know how to feel about any of this. Who am I? What am I?”

  “You’re you,” Ty says. “The same person you’ve always been.”

  The rubber soles of the waitress’s shoes squeak as she approaches. She sets our bill on the table, then takes off again. “So you didn’t know Mom and Beckett went ahead with the procedure until I called you?” I ask Jake.

  His brows cinch together above his glasses. “I knew. When I heard that Melanie was pregnant, I was suspicious. I went to Adam, ready to tell him everything. But Melanie had already confessed what she and Beckett had done. Later, Adam told me she’d miscarried, but I was never completely convinced.” He removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “After Iris died and your folks disappeared, I got really depressed, and I told my mom everything. A part of me was hoping that they’d lied about the miscarriage. I knew that Beckett had convinced your mother that Iris and her clone would be the same person. That you would want the same things Iris had wanted. That everything . . . your feelings and interests, your very soul, would be identical. Iris didn’t believe that, and neither did I. But after she was gone, I wanted to think that some small part of her might’ve lived on.” A pall of sadness surrounds us as he lays his glasses on the table and picks up his coffee mug.

  For the first time, I notice the wedding ring on his finger. “You’re married?”

  “For six years now.” With pride, he adds, “I have a three-year-old son and a new baby girl.”

  I’m sorry, I tell Iris. But she seems content, not upset. She wanted to find Jake to learn the truth, but I think she also needed to see him to make sure he’s happy. To know that his life is good.

  Road weary, Jake twists his neck from side to side. “As much as you look like her, Lily,” he says, “and despite all the things you have in common, I can see that you’re your own person; you aren’t Iris. The two of you are completely separate. I think she’d be relieved to know that you have your own life and identity.”

  I brace my forearms on the table and lean forward. “That’s not exactly true—what you said about Iris and me being completely separate, I mean.”

  Jake frowns. “I don’t understand.”

  “We’re something in between.”

  Confusion wrinkles his brow. “What I meant is, you’d realize if you’d known her that—”

  “I do know her,” I break in. “Iris sent me to you.”

  Jake draws back, glancing between Ty and me. “Sorry. I’m not getting this.”

  “She’s been insisting that I find you for a while now,” I say.

  “Iris talks to you?”

  I nod. “I hear her thoughts and she hears mine. She’s with me now.”

  The color drains from his face.

  Smiling, I say, “You think I’m crazy.”

 
; “I don’t know what I think.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Iris worked hard to make this possible. The two of us meeting, I mean. I’m not leaving until she has the chance to tell you whatever it is she needs to say.”

  I sit back, wait. And then I hear her, as quiet as the flutter of a moth wing at the base of my brain. I smile. “She says that knowing you’re happy makes her happy, too. And that even though the two of you didn’t get your forever, the time you spent together meant everything to her.”

  “Our forever . . .” With a stunned expression, Jake puffs out his cheeks and exhales a long breath. “Iris always said that.”

  A short laugh slips past my lips. “Oh, and one more thing. She wants you to know that she loves the daisies, but they make her sneeze; they always did.”

  21

  We follow Jake to a hotel. He insists on paying, and we don’t argue. While Jake talks to the lady at the front desk, Ty and I sit on the sofa in the lobby, holding hands, our bags and Iris’s violin case at our feet. A few minutes later, Jake walks over, slipping one card key into his pocket and holding two more out to us.

  “I’m in three-twelve. You guys are in three-oh-eight and three-oh-nine. Get some sleep, then give me a call and I’ll take you to lunch.” He laughs. “Or dinner. I’m exhausted.”

  We reach our rooms and part ways. I miss Ty the minute I close my door.

  I draw the curtains to block out the day. Placing Iris’s violin in the corner chair, I carry my bag to the bathroom and take a quick shower. Minutes later, propped up against the pillows on the bed, I text Sylvie: In okc. Mom & Wyatt know I’m w/Ty. Will call w/details soon.

  I lower the phone, worried about Wyatt and wondering if he’ll ever forgive me. Knowing I won’t get any rest until I touch base with him, I text him and tell him we made it and that I’m okay. I ask about my mom and Cookie, then wait five minutes for a reply, staring at the phone. When he doesn’t respond, I make up excuses for his silence: It’s early and he’s still sleeping; he’s in the shower; he stayed at the all-night party even after what happened, and he’s having breakfast with friends.

  Just when I’m about to give up on him, he texts: Gran is w/ your mom and Cookie. They r ok.

  I text back: Thanks.

  I stare at the painting on the opposite wall—a vase of red flowers. What am I going to say to Mom? I’m sort of mad at her about everything—especially the cloning, which is totally weird, when you think about it. If she hadn’t gone behind Dad’s back, I wouldn’t be here. I should probably thank her for being a liar.

  But what if I had been born with health problems, deformities, or other terrible defects, instead of an amazing ability to play the violin and communicate with my “original”? Would she deserve my thanks then?

  Original. The word gives me a sick feeling inside.

  To steady my nerves, I picture Ty in the next room and imagine looking into his beautiful dark eyes. They’ve calmed me so many times since we met, and just the thought of them calms me now. Taking a breath, I lift the phone from my lap and call Mom.

  “Lily!” Her relief flows through the phone. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Mom. Ty and I are in Oklahoma City.”

  “Oklahoma? But why?”

  “Is Addie there?” I ask.

  “Yes. And Wyatt. What’s going on?”

  “We made a short side trip so I could meet Jake Milano.”

  “Jake?” Mom’s voice drops. “Oh, no.”

  “Iris and I needed to find him and talk to him so we could finally know the truth about what happened. She’d forgotten everything, Mom.” I pause to gather my nerve, then add, “Even what you did to her.”

  I hear her quick intake of breath, and then she says, “There are things you need to know.”

  “I know what you and Ian Beckett did to Iris against Dad’s wishes. And against Iris’s wishes. I know what I am, Mom.”

  “Please come home and we’ll talk about this,” she says in a broken voice.

  I take a moment to get control of my emotions, then say, “I think I finally understand why you’ve always been so unhappy. You wanted Iris back, but instead you got me.”

  “No! No, Lily. I love you more than anything. I just— losing Iris destroyed something in me.”

  I stare at the ring she gave me for my birthday. The one she and Dad made especially for me. I know Mom loves me. But I can’t help feeling bruised.

  “I haven’t been fair to you,” Mom continues. “I know that. I didn’t give you what you needed from me. What you deserved. I tried, but I couldn’t let go.”

  I suddenly hurt so much for her. For all of us. Mom and Dad. Iris and myself. “I don’t know how to help you,” I whisper. “How to make you happy.”

  “It’s not up to you.” I hear the tears in Mom’s voice and Addie in the background, asking if everything’s okay. “What are you going to do now?” Mom asks. “Will you come home? We need to talk face-to-face, not over the phone.”

  “I’m still going to Baltimore with Ty to see his brother. After that, I don’t know. I need you to answer my questions first. I’m so tired of secrets.”

  “Anything,” she says. “Anything . . . just ask me.”

  My voice is strangled and harsh. “Are Iris and I the same person or two separate people or what? I mean, if I was reproduced from her cells, is she my sister? My mother? Jake called her my original. God—am I even human?”

  “Lily, listen to me.” Mom sounds steadier now. “You’re the same as everyone.”

  “Then why did you and Dad run away from Winterhaven and change your names before I was born? Was it just to hide me from Beckett? I mean, you didn’t even let our family or your closest friends get to know me. Were you ashamed of me?”

  “Ashamed? No! Your father was sure that Beckett had ulterior motives. That’s why we left,” she says, confirming Jake’s thoughts. “Adam was convinced that if I carried you to term, a healthy baby, Beckett would try to turn you into a specimen to be studied and probed, with no privacy or anonymity. We had to create a new life for ourselves. A normal life for you. We had to protect you. And that meant not even trusting our closest friends to keep the secret. You were too important to take that risk.”

  I want so much to forgive her, to understand, but I’m still so confused. “Why didn’t you tell me when I was older?”

  “For the same reason we left our past behind. We wanted you to feel normal. And we were afraid you wouldn’t. But you are normal, Lily,” she says firmly. “Please believe that.”

  With an incredulous laugh, I say, “How is my relationship with Iris normal? Or the way I play the violin? How is it even possible when I’ve never had a lesson?”

  “I can’t say why you have the connection to Iris that you do, but as for the violin . . . Ian had been dabbling in genetic engineering. He told me he might be able to transfer Iris’s abilities to you. I said I only wanted a healthy child. I didn’t care about the music. I only wanted you.”

  We grow quiet, and when I finally speak again, I sound calmer than I feel. “Today is the anniversary of Iris’s death, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Eighteen years ago today,” she murmurs.

  “Did you plan for us to be born on the same day, eighteen years apart?”

  Sounding regretful, she says, “Yes. At the time, I was so obsessed with everything being as much the same as possible, and Beckett encouraged that. We tried to time the pregnancy, but of course babies only come when they’re ready, unless they’re induced. So, I told my doctor in Pueblo that I wanted to have you on the sixth of May, and he agreed to it because I was far enough along and he didn’t think it was risky.”

  “And Dad was okay with that?”

  “He thought it was completely obsessive of me, and it was,” she says with a note of self-derision. “But I’d made the appointment and I refused to change it. I worried about doing everything just right, but I should’ve listened to your father. I should have trusted that he knew what he
was talking about.” After a quick pause, she says, “Please come home.”

  I hear a bump against the wall in Ty’s room. “No, Mom. Not yet. Ty saw me through this, and I’m going to see him through the hard stuff ahead with his brother.”

  “And after that?”

  “I’ll come home and spend some time figuring out where to go from here.” My last ounce of energy drains away. I yawn. “I need a nap, Mom. I’ll call you before we get on the road again, okay?”

  “Okay.” Softly, she adds, “I’m sorry, Lily.”

  I don’t say anything. I can’t. Not yet.

  “Before you go,” she says, “if you have Jake’s number, I’d like to call him.”

  “I’ll only give it to you if you promise not to get mad at him. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Mom makes the promise, so I give her the number, then put the phone aside.

  Iris’s sigh soothes me as I lay my head on the pillow and curl into the fetal position. We sleep.

  Exhausted from their night of driving, Jake and Ty sleep the day away, giving me some time to myself. After a two-hour nap, I try calling Wyatt a few times, but he never picks up. I watch television in my room, then call Mom again. There’s so much we still need to say.

  “I talked to someone today,” she tells me. “This may come as another shock to you, but we didn’t hide you from everyone. We have family in Massachusetts, and they know about you.”

  I can’t help smiling. “You mean Dad’s sister? Gail and her husband, Matthew?”

  “How do you know them?”

  “We have a lot to talk about when I get home,” I say.

  “That’s what Gail and I discussed—you coming home. She lives in—”

  “Winterhaven, I know. And she owns a bookstore, right?”

  I hear a hint of humor in Mom’s voice when she says, “I suppose you know what Gail and I decided?”

  “Nope. I don’t have a clue.”

  “Since you’re going to be close to her, anyway, we thought that when you’re ready to leave Baltimore you might go to Winterhaven and I’ll meet you there. We could stay for a week or two. I think we both need a change of scenery, and Gail and Matthew are anxious to meet you.”