Chapter 8 The Girl in the Mirror

Ivy

"You have your sister’s face, but you will never have her spirit," my father’s voice echoed in my head as I looked around the expensive room, and I wondered if he was right.

"I can do this," I whispered to the empty air, but my voice sounded small.

I sat on the edge of the bed, and it was so soft that it felt like it was trying to swallow me whole. I opened my small bag, one of the things I brought from the life I wasn't allowed to have anymore, and I looked at the few things inside.

"Three shirts, a pair of jeans, and a toothbrush," I said, counting them out loud as if the numbers would make them feel like more than they were. "That’s all you are, Ivy."

I walked over to the wardrobe, which was carved from dark wood and smelled expensive, and I opened the doors. My three cheap blouses looked like trash when I hung them up, and they seemed to disappear against the back wall, almost like they were embarrassed to be there. But the wardrobe wasn't empty, because someone had already filled it with things meant for the wife of a billionaire, things meant for Zara.

"Did you pick these out, Alistair?" I asked, touching a silk dress.

I knew the answer.

"It’s all a plan," I muttered, pulling my hand away from the dress like it had burned me. "Every single bit of it was ready before I even knew I was coming here."

I couldn't stay still, so I walked out of the bedroom and into the small hallway that connected my room to the rest of the house, and that’s when I saw it. It was a framed photo on the wall, a family portrait of the Hales from a long time ago. Alistair was younger, standing straight and tall without the sickness that I knew was eating him up now, and there was a woman beside him with dark, kind eyes.

"Who were you?" I asked the woman in the photo. "Did you like living in this big, cold house?"

Beside her was a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen years old, and he had the same face as the man I had met at the garage, that same stillness that made you feel like he was watching everything you did.

"Lucian," I whispered, looking at his small hand which was just barely touching his mother’s sleeve. "You looked like you were afraid she was going to disappear if you let go."

I thought about what he told me earlier, how he called me a replacement, and I felt a sharp pain in my chest.

"You don't know how right you are, Lucian," I told the boy in the picture, "but you don't know who I’m actually replacing."

In his head, I was Zara, a girl who was just a pawn to be moved around by his father, but he didn't know that the real Zara was gone.

"I’m the spare part," I said, my voice getting a bit louder, "the one you use when the main piece breaks."

I went back into the room and sat down at the vanity, looking at the mirror, and I saw the face that had caused all this trouble.

"Okay, Zara," I told my reflection, "show me how you do it."

I tried to make my face go blank, to find that easy, unbothered look that Zara always had when she was dealing with our father.

"Chin up," I told myself, "don't look so scared."

I adjusted my shoulders and practiced a small, cold smile, the kind of smile that didn't reach my eyes.

"My name is Zara Carter," I said to the mirror, "and I’m happy to be here."

I said it again, trying to make it sound true, but the words felt like Grit in my mouth.

"You’re a liar," the girl in the mirror seemed to say back.

"I have to be a liar," I argued with myself, "because if I’m not, my mother doesn't get her medicine, and my father comes after me, and this whole house falls down on my head."

I sat there for a long time, just watching my own face until it didn't even look like a person anymore, it just looked like a mask I was wearing. The house was so quiet, a heavy kind of silence that felt like it was waiting for me to make a mistake.

"I’m the only one who knows," I whispered, and I felt a weird shiver go down my spine. "Every person in this building, the maids, the guards, Alistair, Lucian… they all think I'm someone else."

It should have made me feel lonely, and it did, but there was something else too. For the first time in my life, nobody was looking at Ivy. They were looking at a ghost.

"If nobody knows who I am," I said, a small spark of something hot and bright lighting up in my chest, "then maybe I can be whoever I want."

It was a dangerous thought, a dirty kind of freedom that was built on a mountain of lies, but it was the only thing I actually owned in this room. My father had sold my name and my body, but he hadn't sold the part of me that was watching and learning.

"You think I'm a puppet," I told the ghost of my father in my mind, "but even puppets have strings that can be pulled from both ends."

I stood up and smoothed out the expensive silk of the dress I had put on, feeling the weight of the jewelry on my dresser. I wasn't just a replacement anymore, I was an actress, and this was my stage.

"I can play this game," I told the mirror, my voice finally steady. "I can be the girl they want, until I find a way to be the girl I actually am."

I thought about Alistair, sick in his room, and Lucian, watching me with those eyes that seemed to see through everything. I wondered if they would hate me more if they knew the truth, or if they would just be disappointed that they got the "wrong" twin.

"There is no wrong twin," I whispered, "there’s just the one who stayed."

I spent another few minutes just breathing, trying to make the shaking in my hands stop, telling myself over and over that I was strong enough to do this. I thought about my mother’s face, her tired eyes, and how she always told me to be quiet and stay safe.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said softly, "but I don't think I can be quiet anymore."

The silence of the room was suddenly broken by a sound that made my heart jump into my throat.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

It wasn't the soft, hesitant knock of a maid coming to check the towels. It was sharp, loud, and it meant business. It was the knock of someone who didn't care if they were interrupting me.

I stood up straight, checked my reflection one last time to make sure Ivy was hidden deep inside, and I cleared my throat.

"Come in," I said, my voice sounding exactly like the girl I was pretending to be.

The door began to turn, and I held my breath, waiting to see which member of the Hale family was coming to see the girl in the mirror.