Impostor

by Susanne Winnacker

  Dr. Fonseca stumbled in his haste to get to my side. His hands shook as he placed a few electrodes on my arms and chest. I withdrew my arm when he tried to put me on an IV. The way the needle shook in his grip made me nervous. He’d more likely poke an eye out with it than put it safely into my arm.

  “Why do I need that?” I jumped at the sound of the unknown voice coming from my lips. It was higher than my own. And my arm—Madison’s arm—was so pale and thin. Her muscles must have suffered during the weeks she’d been in a coma. But luckily I didn’t feel any weaker than before, only different.

  “Because Madison would need medication. Be glad we convinced the doctors that you can breathe on your own,” Major said.

  I extended my arm. Dr. Fonseca took a deep breath and his hand steadied. I winced when the needle jabbed into the skin on the back of my hand.

  “What’s in there?” I nodded toward the clear liquid in the plastic bag of the IV.

  “Nothing to worry about.” Major sounded like he didn’t have a worry in the world, but the deep lines around his eyes suggested he wasn’t as relaxed as he pretended to be. This was a big day and an important mission, and it was out of even Major’s hands. I was the one who had to perform.

  My heartbeat picked up, and with it the annoying beep-beep of the machines. Alec approached me. “Everything will be fine.” His eyes scanned my face, lingering on Madison’s features a moment too long, like he had to get used to looking at them.

  I forced the muscles in my—or rather Madison’s—face to relax. My fingers traced over the scar on my throat where the killer had strangled her with a wire. It went almost all the way around my neck. Slowly, I let my hand wander lower until I could feel the spot on my rib cage where the killer had left his signature. Shivering, I drew back.

  Dr. Fonseca let out a small cough. “I’m done here.”

  “Good.” Major raised a cell phone to his ear. Apparently, the no-cell-in-hospital rule was suspended for him. “We’ll be gone in a few minutes.” I didn’t know who was on the other end or what they were saying, but Major looked satisfied when he hung up.

  “Where are Madison’s parents?” I asked.

  “They’re still talking with the other doctors about how Madison’s condition has improved and that it might be possible that you’re going to wake soon.”

  The “you” threw me at first. Pretending to be Madison was going to take some getting used to. She wasn’t much taller than me but she was thinner, and her chest was even smaller than my own. I picked up a strand of her dark blond hair. It felt smoother than my own and fell in straight lines to my chest.

  “Your hair doesn’t look right,” Alec said.

  He pushed his hands into my hair. A tingling shot down my spine and I relaxed against his warm palms. He froze as our eyes met. I couldn’t tell what was going on behind them. He broke eye contact and started mussing up my hair. He was so gentle.

  “That’s better.” He pulled away but I immediately wanted his touch back.

  Major’s cell phone started vibrating. “It’s time to go.” He opened the door but didn’t leave. “Ronald and Linda Chambers will be here at any moment. Remember everything you read about Madison. From now until we find the murderer, you’re Madison. Tessa’s dead.”

  Tessa’s dead.

  Something gripped my insides and twisted. If I could vote to determine who should live and who should die—Madison or me—there was no doubt about the outcome. Madison had parents, a brother, relatives, even an ex-boyfriend who loved her; I had nothing.

  What am I thinking?

  “Did you hear me?”

  I gave a nod, not trusting myself to speak. A sudden wave of calm overcame me, foreign and invasive, and I could feel my body bristle at the unwanted emotion. It wasn’t mine. My eyes darted to Major, his form still lingering in the doorway. Had he just managed to manipulate the way I felt?

  Alec hesitated as if he wanted to say something. I couldn’t stop myself from meeting his eyes. There was worry in them, and something else—something softer I couldn’t put my finger on. After a quick glance at Major, he smiled encouragingly, and they left.

  Dr. Fonseca stayed. He checked the machines and the IV once more. I winced as the needle moved in my arm, and he apologized quietly. He didn’t talk much, nor did he ever look me in the eyes.

  One thing was for sure: Major was right, people were scared of our powers, afraid of what we were capable of. That was the first thing he’d taught Holly and me when we’d arrived at FEA headquarters. I’d never felt the truth of his words as plainly as I did now.

  Voices outside the door caught my attention. I sank into the pillows and closed my eyes, trying to calm my breathing while watching the entrance through half-closed eyes. The door started to open. This was it. And it was in my hands not to mess it up.

  I couldn’t mess up. I wouldn’t mess up.

  Tessa was dead, for now.

  CHAPTER 8

  * * *

  I cycled through my breathing exercise, trying to calm the pounding of my heart.

  In and out.

  In and out.

  Through the narrowed slits of my eyelids, I watched as Linda Chambers slipped into the room, her steps faltering as she saw Dr. Fonseca. Ronald Chambers stopped behind her, his hands on her shoulders. His eyes were focused on me and I decided it was safer to keep mine closed.

  “How . . .” She cleared her throat. “How is she? Dr. Myers and Dr. Ortiz told us there was a chance she would wake today.”

  “Her condition has improved. She’s breathing on her own and she stirred just moments ago,” Dr. Fonseca said.

  “She moved?” The hope in Mrs. Chambers’s voice made me feel like the worst liar in the world. She should be mourning the loss of her daughter, and instead she was being promised a miracle.

  “Even if she wakes, don’t expect too much from her. After what she’s been through, she might have to learn many things from scratch. It might take a while before she’ll be able to walk and talk the same way she used to. It’s very possible that she won’t remember much, maybe not even you.” He paused before adding, “It’s important that you don’t pressure her into remembering.” Listening to Dr. Fonseca talk with ease, I wondered how he could lie to them without so much as a quiver in his voice.

  “We won’t. We’ll do everything in our power to help her get well,” Madison’s father said.

  I allowed my hands to twitch and my eyes to flutter.

  “I think she’s waking up,” Mrs. Chambers said.

  Steps came closer.

  I knew they were watching my every move. I turned my head an inch but kept my eyes closed and let out a hoarse cough.

  The mattress dipped. “Maddy? Honey, wake up.”

  “Cupcake, Mom and Dad are here.” Ronald’s tone was so soft, so loving, so gentle. I couldn’t help but wonder if my own dad had ever talked to me like that, if he’d been happy after I was born, if he ever missed me at all.

  I allowed my eyes to flutter open for a moment, enough to see their worried faces hovering above me, before I closed them again. A hand touched my cheek, too soft and small to belong to a man. “Honey?” I’d never thought one word could carry so much love. Linda’s palm felt warm and comforting, even though it was a foreign touch. I felt myself relax.

  Finally, I opened my eyes. I’d never seen someone look at me the way Ronald and Linda did—like I was the most precious thing in their lives.

  “Oh, Maddy.”

  Linda started crying. I wanted to join her. Overcome with relief and joy, she was emotional for all the wrong reasons. She didn’t know her dead daughter had been carried out on a gurney only a few minutes ago while the doctors wove a story about their daughter’s miraculous recovery. They didn’t know their little girl lay in the cold storage of a morgue, waiting there until the day when my job was done, when they’d finally learn the truth.

  Heat pressed against my eyes as Ronald’s lips brushed my forehead and he murmured
words of comfort. Suddenly, I could no longer hold back. The tears trailed over my cheeks and pooled near my lips.

  Linda hugged me, her touch cotton soft as though she was afraid of hurting me. Ronald brushed my hair from my face and wrapped his arms around Linda and me. For a moment I allowed myself to imagine their love was actually for me.

  Eventually they pulled back.

  I noticed that Dr. Fonseca had left the room. Maybe he couldn’t stand watching the happy reunion, knowing the ugly truth behind it.

  Ronald pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down. Linda perched on the bedside, holding my hand in a crushing grip. “Do you know who we are, Cupcake?” Ronald’s blue eyes were alight with hope but there was still a certain tightness around his lips.

  I coughed again because the medical papers had said I’d have trouble speaking after being hooked up to a breathing machine. Technically, I shouldn’t have been able to talk properly for days, but there was a killer to catch. Linda’s expression grew troubled. “Do you need water?”

  I nodded.

  Ronald brought me a plastic cup and I started raising my arm.

  You just woke from a coma. Move slowly, I told myself, and let my hand drop.

  Linda took the cup from her husband. He helped me sit up and supported me while she brought it to my lips and tipped it forward so I could drink. The water cooled my dry throat.

  “Better?” she asked.

  I gave a nod. Ronald propped the pillows up behind me, so I was sitting upright.

  “Do you know who we are?” Linda asked.

  Ronald gave his wife a warning look.

  “Yes,” I barely croaked out. My throat closed up at the sight of their happiness. They hadn’t expected me to speak, nor to remember them, and technically I shouldn’t have been able to. But Major thought it would speed up our mission if I didn’t have to pretend to learn every little thing all over again. He wanted me back at their home and investigating the high school as soon as possible.

  “What else do you remember?” Linda asked.

  “I’m . . .” I coughed again. “I’m not sure.” I forced my face to look puzzled. “I remember Ana, and Devon. I remember Fluffy.” I trailed off.

  “That’s good,” Ronald paused. “Do you remember what happened?”

  Something dark clouded his eyes and his hands balled to fists at his side. Linda tried to keep her face relaxed but the hand holding mine began trembling.

  “No, I . . . I don’t know how I got here.” I hesitated, the words crowding in the back of my throat.

  “What happened?” I asked quietly.

  Linda slid off the bed and walked quietly to the window. I wished I could have seen her face, but the way her shoulders shook maybe it was better I didn’t. Ronald clutched at his knees. “It’s a long story. Maybe we should wait to talk about it until you feel better.” I nodded. Neither of them spoke after that. I watched them through half-lidded eyes but Linda kept her face turned to the window. Eventually Ronald went to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

  With a short rapping, the door opened and a teenage guy slinked into the room. I recognized him from the photos as Madison’s twin brother. I kept my eyes half closed and pretended to drift back to sleep, so I could watch them interact before I was forced to join the conversation. I wasn’t yet ready to meet my pretend brother.

  Devon was stocky like a wrestler but not as tall as Alec. His blond hair was cropped short and mussed up with styling mousse to give him a just-out-of-bed look. I had to strain my ears to hear him. “How is she?”

  Linda’s face was red and splotchy. “She just woke up.” Devon’s eyes widened as he let his mother wrap her arms around him. “She talked to us, she remembered us.”

  “Oh Mom, that’s great.” He pulled back, his eyes darting back over to me. “Did she remember anything about the attack?”

  Ronald shook his head. “No, she doesn’t seem to remember anything about that day.”

  “So she’s got no clue who did that to her,” Devon said.

  “I don’t think we should talk about it in front of her,” Linda said. She walked over to the bed and began stroking my hair.

  “Sorry, Mom.” His sneakers squealed on the linoleum floor.

  It was probably too soon for me to wake again, but pretending to sleep was harder than it sounded. I wanted to twitch.

  I stirred, coughed, and was greeted with startling blue eyes. The photos hadn’t done Devon justice. His smile was all sunshine and his eyes almost matched Alec’s in their intensity.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.” His tone was playful and dripping with warmth.

  “Devon,” I whispered.

  His grin turned lopsided but then his eyes darted to my throat and for an instant his face darkened. I fought the urge to touch the scar.

  Major had placed both Devon and Ronald on his list of suspects, along with pretty much every other male in Livingston. But if he’d seen their reaction to Madison’s recovery, he probably would’ve changed his mind. It was obvious that they both loved Madison. How could one of them have done her harm?

  “Fluffy has been sleeping on your bed ever since you arrived at the hospital,” Devon said, a slight edge in his voice. “He even buried a dead mouse in your covers once.” I made a disgusted face, which made them laugh. Hearing their laughter filled me with unexpected joy.

  There was happiness, there was love, and there was the impostor who didn’t belong. How could they not see through the mask?

  CHAPTER 9

  * * *

  Over the next few days, Linda and Ronald didn’t leave my side. They followed me wherever I went—to every checkup and every X-ray. One of them always spent the night at my bedside. I wasn’t used to having someone care for me like that.

  Even Devon visited me every day after school. He always told me funny stories from our—it was strange thinking of it like that—childhood. Sometimes it made me wonder if my own brother would have been anything like Devon if we’d grown up together. I couldn’t even remember the way he looked. My mother had burned every photo of him and my father. It was just one more thing on the long list of things I resented her for.

  I bounced my legs, my feet hitting the bed frame.

  “Dr. Fonseca will be here any moment. You can’t wait to get home, can you?” Linda’s face was alight with joy.

  That was an understatement. After three days of being confined in a hospital room and made to sit through a barrage of useless medical tests—the work of Dr. Fonseca—I felt about ready to burst. I didn’t care where I went. My nose couldn’t take another day of disinfectants and sterility. The smell was burned into my brain forever.

  “We’re so glad that you’ve recovered so quickly. Even the doctors said it could take weeks but you proved them wrong,” Ronald said. He and Linda shared one of their private smiles. When they looked at each other that way, I couldn’t help but feel like an intruder. What they had was something I’d never witnessed before, something I desperately wanted.

  Witnessing their happiness and hope was like a constant punch in the gut. I couldn’t help but be reminded of how it was all built on lies that were destined to crumble. I knew our actions were necessary in order to find the killer, but I wished there was some other way.

  With a knock, the door opened and Dr. Fonseca stepped inside the room. His fingers fumbled with the patient file as he stopped beside my bed. He greeted the family before he turned to me. The edges of his eyes were tight, as if it cost him a great deal to look at me. “How are you feeling today?” he asked. Of course, he already knew the answer.

  “I’m feeling great,” I said. “I feel like I’m ready to go home.”

  Dr. Fonseca browsed the patient file, though he wouldn’t find anything there that he didn’t already know. Major had ordered him to release me today, so that was what would happen.

  “Is everything all right?” Linda rose from the chair and stood beside Ronald, who wrapped an arm around her.

  Dr. Fo
nseca looked up from the papers and smiled tightly. “Yes, the blood test results are good. She’s in good health. But she shouldn’t overstrain herself.” He turned his attention to me. “Lots of rest. No extracurricular sports, and no gym at school. Otherwise, I don’t see any reason why we should keep you here.” The truth was he couldn’t wait to get me out of the hospital. I knew it must be hard for a scientist to encounter a freak like me, who made him doubt everything he thought he knew.

  “It’s incredible,” Linda said, unaware of the tension gripping Dr. Fonseca’s body. “She’s recovering so quickly. It’s a miracle.”

  “A miracle,” Fonseca repeated. Coming from his mouth it sounded like a curse. “You’re probably right. I’ve never encountered anything quite like this.” I was the only one who noticed the anxiety in his voice and the way he said “anything” with an emphasis on thing, like I wasn’t human. If he’d been allowed to, he’d have loved to do tests on me. He’d tried to keep one of my blood samples, despite the orders from the FEA to forward everything to them. Major was furious when he found out. I wished I could have witnessed that episode, but I’d had to settle for a secondhand account from an agent disguised as a nurse.

  Fonseca’s eyes hovered somewhere over my head, never meeting my own. “You can go home now,” he finally concluded.

  Linda zipped the tote bag shut. She’d already packed it an hour ago.

  We left the hospital as a family. Ronald led me with a gentle hand on my back as though he was afraid I’d collapse or disappear.

  I was silent during the drive to my new home, trying to memorize every detail along the way. The map hadn’t lied; Livingston was an exceedingly small town. We passed row after row of houses with the same anthracite shingles, beige double garages, and patios decorated with flower beds. Vans with visible child seats were parked in front of every other home and I caught the occasional glimpse of a swingset in a backyard, and yet there weren’t any children playing in the streets. Had their parents forbidden them to go outside while a killer was on the loose?