Page 28 of My Twin Sister

I’m reminded, once again, that I have no idea what she’s been through the last eighteen years. I’ll get her a lock from the hardware store she can use. She should feel safe when she goes to bed.

But for now, the boxes keep her in as much as they keep me out and I don’t want to waste time. I hurry outside, as quietly as I can. I have Grace’s car keys in hand. She left them on the entry table when she came home after hanging out with Brooke O’Neil.

She’s not going to tell me the truth, so like always, I have to take things into my own hands. Maybe there’s something in her car that will tell me something Grace won’t. I pull the door open, freezing when it groans loudly. Jesus. She really needs to grease these doors. I watch the house for signs of movement. When ten seconds pass without anything of note, I keep moving. I go through her center console and find a few pens, a package of Black Ice air fresheners, and some receipts.

I read through the receipts. One for a fast-food place. The address on the receipt is for a town about an hour from here and the date is yesterday’s. Another is from a gas station. Same date, $30 in gas and $6 for air fresheners.

I lower the receipts and look back at the house. She bought the same scent Wyatt used to use right before coming here. Why?

I roll my eyes and keep sorting through them. There’s one for a place I recognize. A bar just outside of town. Wyatt and I would go there sometimes when we wanted to hang out without people in town seeing us. It was close, but no one from town ever went there. I scan the small paper for the date, and all the breath leaves my lungs. The date is from six months ago. Before she apparently remembered me and her home.

Twenty: Grace

My sleep was as fitful as ever last night. I kept dozing off to vivid nightmares that made no sense and waking up confused and annoyed. I struggle to the bathroom and turn the shower on, staring at the wall blankly while I wait for the water to get hot enough.

The steam builds around me, and I strip down and step into the scalding hot water. I close my eyes and let my muscles relax. I miss my shower in Bloomington. I miss my apartment. My life there. I miss things I can’t even let myself think about.

But I’ve missed life here too. I knew it would be hard coming back and facing the life I thought I would have and all the memories I left behind. It’s even harder than I thought it would be. I told Geny I wasn’t going anywhere, but honestly, I was hoping to be back home in a month at the most. I didn’t want to stay here indefinitely. But even amid all the danger and the lies, I can feel Raven pulling me back in.

But I can’t stay.

Which means I have work to do, and I need to get a move on. I quickly wash myself and turn the water off, but decide to stay downstairs until Geny and her family are through their morning routine. I’m craving the coffee I can smell through the floorboards, but even more than caffeine, I crave a quieter start to the day.

The last two days have taken their toll on my mental and social battery, which I need to quickly recharge. So I’d rather not tiptoe around Wyatt and the boys while pretending I don’t notice Geny watching me like a hawk.

Geny is off work today, if I remember correctly. And that’s another situation I need to handle with care. I know she wants us to spend time together — I do too. But I need to somehow avoid some of the questions I know she’ll be slinging at me as soon as she works up the courage again. I also have some other plans, but to do those, I’ll need to put in the time with Geny or she’ll blow a gasket.

When the house above sounds like it’s quieted down, I venture upstairs, taking down my box tower first. Geny is sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee cradled between two hands.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Morning.”

She looks like she hasn’t slept much lately either. There are dark circles that ring her red-veined eyes. I make my way to the coffee maker and pour myself a generous cup before joining her at the table.

“I’ll give you money for groceries and whatnot,” I say before taking a sip.

She crinkles her nose. “No. That’s not necessary.”

“It is. You’re letting me stay here, and I’m eating your food and drinking your coffee.”

“So what? You’re family.”

What she says stirs up emotion in my chest. It’s been a long time since I’ve had family. Since I’ve had any type of village. And our family was in every sense a village. We were taught to show up for each other and for others. No one had to ask for help because we were all so ingrained to assist without being asked. Housework, cooking, school stuff. We tackled it all as a family.

I don’t remember when or why I started holding back from them. Hiding the fact that I needed help. I think it happened the way most things do. Slowly and subtly. Before I realized it, I was in over my head. I was so ashamed of what I’d gotten myself into.

I like to think I would have asked for help if given the time, if that night hadn’t gone the way it had.

I push the thoughts away. There’s no use in thinking about the way things might have been and how I could have changed things. This is the way things are.

“I’m going to go for a run in a few minutes. When I get back, do you want to go to the store with me? I don’t think I’ll survive another day without my bedside snacks and Diet Pepsi.”

Geny smirks. “Still addicted to Diet Pepsi?”

“Some things never change.” I stand up and drain the rest of my coffee before putting the cup into the sink. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”

She nods, and I go back downstairs to get my running shoes.