Page 157

Lana said we were lucky, how everything could’ve ended differently.

She’s right.

Physically, we are fine, but mentally?

I don’t know how I’m going to recover.

You will, Olivia. You treat veterans with war traumas. This too shall pass.

But deep down, what bothers me isn’t the danger I escaped or the women he was dancing with. It’s clear now that was a smokescreen to draw attention to himself while Bree escaped.

What bothers me the most is how Rex never told me the truth about Casey.

He says I’m his temporary forever. That he’ll remember me always. That if he could be with me, he would.

But was it true? Did he really try everything?

He had plenty of chances to tell me. I asked about Casey before—more than once. I wanted to meet the person who knew Rex the best. And every time, Rex chose to lie. He said his best friend had social anxiety. Gave excuses for why I couldn’t meet him. It was odd, but I thought he needed more time before letting me completely into his life.

I wouldn’t have judged if he told me the truth. I would’ve understood, given my profession and how I sometimes heard Mia in my head.

I could’ve helped him because Casey was just another symptom.

A psychological one. A key one.

But I missed it.

The Velowake. The insomnia. The dissociation. I didn’t connect the dots.

Just like last time.

Memories of that morning sweep into my vision as I round the corner. Rex’s room is just ahead.

I remember how happy Mia was on prom night. She had on a bright red dress with tiny skulls sewn on the bodice. Mom shook her head, saying nice girls didn’t dress like that, but Mia only laughed. She seemed extra relaxed that day, like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. I thought it was because of our upcoming graduation.

My dress was a simple blue gown with capped sleeves—nothing too revealing but did the job. Mia rolled her eyes when I bought it, saying it was boring. But I liked it because it was unlike hers. My neckline was high, while hers was low. My hem length was long, while hers was short.

The Lin twins looked different.

I remember thinking how awesome it’d be if I weren’t walking around with someone else’s face, body, and voice, differentiated only by hairstyles, clothes, or personality. If I weren’t a twin, would I need to try as hard to be unique? Would I need to make myself smaller or more invisible?

And when I found her the next morning—silent and lifeless, a permanent punctuation mark in her short life—I realizedI got my wish.

I was the only person with my face, body, and voice in the world now. I lost my twin, someone I should know better than anyone else.

I should’ve seen the signs, noticed the red flags—how she never spoke about her future, how she gave me her precious jewelry box the night before, saying she didn’t want “that shit” in college, how she suddenly stopped caring about her grades.

I should’ve known then, just as I should’ve known now.

Love and emotions clouded my judgment with Mia, and I swore to myself I’d never be their victim again.

But here I am, missingeverythingwith Rex.

Again.

Twisting the doorknob, I quietly open the door and enter his room. When his bed comes into view, I notice him sitting up, his eyes closed, his breathing even, like he’s sleeping.

With my heart heavy, I make my way toward him.