The Shadow Girl

by Jennifer Archer

  “Wow,” I say, more than a little nervous about meeting my extended family for the first time.

  “Gail and I also talked about me selling the cabin and moving there.”

  “You’d sell the cabin?”

  The thought of it is like a punch in the stomach. My first instinct is to worry about Iris, because it’s hard for me to imagine her living anywhere else but in the mountains. I used to be afraid that when I left home, she’d stay behind. But maybe I’m Iris’s home. She lives where I live. She goes where I go.

  I feel her at this very second, as warm as the sunlight sifting through the window. She’s extra quiet though. Iris? I say. Am I right? Will you go with me if I move? I listen and hear her steady hiss, but she doesn’t answer. Maybe she’s trying to sort everything out, too.

  “I know how much you love it here,” says Mom, breaking into my thoughts. “You could always come back to visit.” She’s talking fast, as if to convince me. “But I think I’m going to need family around me when you go away to college.”

  I nibble my fingernail, happy and sad at once, wanting so much to reach out to her like she’s trying to do with me. “We’ll talk about all this at Aunt Gail’s, okay?” I say. “We’ll figure out the best thing to do.”

  Sounding hopeful, she says, “Okay, Lily. We’ll decide together.”

  I tell myself that maybe she can change. Maybe our relationship can. Maybe my mom can finally move on and be happy again.

  “I love you, Lily,” she says. “Call me again when you’re on the road. And be careful.”

  “I will, Mom. I love you, too.”

  I end the call, torn between excitement about the possibilities for a new life in Massachusetts and sadness over what I’d be leaving behind. The peaks. The forest. My home, and all the places that remind me of Dad. And, most important of all, Wyatt.

  Jake takes us to an early dinner at the Spaghetti Warehouse in Bricktown, a refurbished area of Oklahoma City with a river walk and old brick buildings that now house bars and restaurants and shops.

  “Your mother called me,” he says.

  I glance at Ty and raise my brows, then ask Jake, “What did she say?”

  “She thanked me for telling you the truth. She said she could never find the courage to do it.”

  “I want to thank you, too,” I say. “And so does Iris.”

  Jake’s face pales. Coughing, he shifts in his chair. Maybe someday I’ll convince him I communicate with Iris, and he’ll cast his doubts aside. But not yet. That much is clear from his uncomfortable reaction.

  Still, when the waiter brings our iced teas, Jake toasts Iris for bringing us together, and we make a promise to stay in touch.

  After dinner, we say our good-byes, and Ty and I start off for Baltimore. We have a twenty-two-hour drive ahead and want to put as many miles behind us as possible before we stop again to sleep.

  By silent mutual agreement, for the next few hours we don’t discuss any of what we learned from Jake and my mom. Instead, we listen to the radio and sing along.

  And we talk about his brother.

  As Ty describes him, I begin to think Kyle has a lot in common with Wyatt, which makes me feel close to him instantly. They’re both funny, both well liked. Kyle can dribble a basketball like nobody else, and he likes to tinker on cars, just like Wyatt. He loves the mountains. And his family.

  We stop for gas a few hours into the trip, and when I come out from the restroom and climb back into the car, Ty hands me a sack. “Room service. The midnight snack you ordered is ready.”

  I open the sack. “It’s only eleven.”

  He starts the car and pulls out of the station. “I had a craving for something sweet. I hope you like Fudgsicles.”

  I take the wrapper off one and hand it to him. “Here you go.”

  “So,” he says. “It’s been a wild couple of days, huh?”

  “Yeah. It’s not every day a girl finds out she’s a modern-day Frankenstein’s monster.”

  He scowls. “I wish you wouldn’t talk about yourself like that.”

  A drop of chocolate plops onto my knee. I wipe it off and lick my finger. “Don’t tell me you aren’t blown away by the whole clone thing. You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t.” Though nothing about being a clone seems funny to me, I force myself to grin and add, “You’d be like me!”

  “There you go again.” He finishes his Fudgsicle and stuffs the stick into the car’s old ashtray. “I’ve never met anyone more human than you,” he says. “Thank you for deciding to come to Baltimore. It means a lot to me.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for trying to help me understand all this crazy stuff about myself. I’m sorry I had my doubts about your intentions. You’ve really been someone I can count on from the first day we met.”

  “That’s because I fell for you the minute I saw you.”

  My Fudgsicle isn’t the only thing melting. I wipe another drop from my knee and study his profile. “Did you fall for me at first because I look like Iris? You said you were intrigued by her music. So maybe it’s her, not me.”

  He shrugs and smiles. “She’s part of you, so I guess that’s true in a way.” I almost stop breathing when he lifts my hand from the seat and kisses the back of it.

  Glad all of our secrets are out, I say, “Today there were times when I thought I understood all this and I was okay with it. Then the next second, I’d get this panicky feeling, like I don’t know who or what I am anymore. That’s how I feel now. Am I Iris? Is that voice in my head I’ve been hearing all my life really mine? And if I’m not her, what do I owe her? I mean, the only reason I’m alive is because of her.”

  “Maybe you should think of Iris as your identical twin. Twins have a lot in common, but they’re two different people.”

  I consider that. But then it occurs to me that maybe the answer of what I am and how I was made doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s more important that I just enjoy this life Iris gave me and be happy for it. In a way, wouldn’t that be giving her a second chance? It’s the only way I know to repay her.

  Sighing, I say, “Iris has been so quiet since we met Jake and found out the truth. It’s like she’s pulling back or something. What if what we talked about before is right? What if her purpose for staying around is finished? What will I do if she goes?”

  “I can’t believe she would leave you. Have you asked her?

  I nod. “She didn’t answer.” Ty brushes my knuckles with his fingertips. “First thing in the morning, we’re going to watch the sunrise together. You, me, and Iris. After seeing Jake, she probably needed some time to herself.”

  I nod at him, hoping with everything in me that he’s right.

  At three in the morning, we get a hotel room. I’m so tired I don’t even know what town we’re in. Ty opens the curtains over the window so we can watch the sunrise, like he promised. Then he sets his “mental alarm clock,” as he calls it, and stretches out on the bed. I lie down beside him, tucked into the crook of his arm, my head on his chest. My pulse slows to match his heartbeat, and soon I can tell that he’s fallen asleep.

  Even though I’ve never been this exhausted, I lie awake, staring at the window. Afraid to close my eyes. Afraid to stop listening for Iris’s faint hum.

  Ty is snoring softly when I slip from beneath his arm a few hours later and tiptoe over to the corner chair where I propped the violin case when we arrived. I think I must’ve dozed for a while because I feel more rested. It’s almost morning, and I realize I sense Iris more strongly than I have all day.

  The city lights flowing in from the window make it easy for me to see without turning on a lamp. I stare at the violin case. I haven’t held the instrument since I played for Mom, and I’m suddenly afraid to try again. I don’t want to wake Ty, but I need to talk to someone to settle my nerves.

  I grab my cell phone, then slip into the bathroom, leaving the light off and closing the door. I lean against the sink and text Wyatt. He won’t see the message for a coup
le of hours, but I just need to make contact with him. I can’t leave for Baltimore with so much left unsaid between us.

  I text: Guess Mom told u our plans. Miss u. So much more to tell u. Pls call. Luv u.

  As I’m starting to leave the bathroom, my phone buzzes. I guess Wyatt can’t sleep, either.

  Your mom told me more than your plans. Always knew something not rt abt u. Crazy stuff. U ok?

  I choke back tears and smile, relieved by Wyatt’s teasing tone. Then I text back: I’m ok. All the times u called me a freak u were rite. Who knew? I send the text, then before he can respond, send another one: U still upset?

  A minute passes. Then another quiet chirp sounds. I’ll get over it.

  Wincing and biting my lip, I text: I’m sorry, Wy. U are part of all my best memories. Pls call.

  Need time.

  I swallow my disappointment, then text: I can’t lose u.

  Five full minutes pass without a response. Feeling forlorn, I reach for the door just as my phone chirps. I look down at the display.

  90% of male students @ Columbia develop chronic halitosis by age 20. That’s serious bad breath, in case you don’t know. Tlk soon. Nite, Lil.

  A half sob, half laugh bursts from my throat. G’nite, Wy.

  I slip back into the room. It’s quiet.

  Too quiet.

  Going still, I whisper, “Iris?” I listen for her, exhaling my relief when I hear her sigh. Why did I ever take her for granted, like my heartbeat, my breath? I was wrong to think she was my shadow. The truth is, in so many ways, I’m hers. Without Iris, I would’ve been nothing.

  Gathering my courage, I ask, Iris, you’re staying, aren’t you? Tell me nothing’s going to change between us.

  I’ll always be here, she whispers. You’re strong enough alone now, but if you need me, look inside. Listen . . . the west peak can’t exist without the east. We’re a part of each other.

  I understand what she’s trying to tell me. I think that, all my life, Iris has been haunted by a lost love and a past full of secrets she couldn’t remember. Secrets she feared might hurt me. She stayed alert to watch over me, while struggling with the vague notion that she had to find her way back to the boy she’d once loved. Now that she knows Jake’s happy and we’ve uncovered the truth and I’m okay, Iris can relax. She’s not going away, she’ll only be sleeping.

  Forgetting that Ty is in the room, forgetting I’m in a hotel and everyone is asleep, I cross to the corner and take the violin from the case. Tonight, I’ll play for Iris, so she can experience her music again through me, like I’ve experienced so much through her.

  I walk to the window, lift the bow to the strings. The music in me unwinds and the violin cries out, one joyous note bleeding into another, then another. The song is a new one I’ve never heard in her memories or my dreams, one she’s never hummed in my ear. It comes from a place deep in my center where Iris resides, where she always has and always will.

  The melody expands, and the air stirs slightly. I feel Ty at my side and end the song. Lowering the bow, I lean against him.

  As light peeks over the eastern horizon, he puts his arm around my shoulders, and Iris pulses next to my heart. We’ve never seen a more beautiful sunrise.

  Epilogue

  The air changes when I step inside Kyle’s room behind Ty and his parents. The sterile antiseptic scent of the hospital disappears, replaced by the fragrance of hundreds of flowers. The room is filled with them.

  I’m carrying Iris’s violin and a bow, and I’m more nervous and fearful than I’ve ever been in my life. After I play, someone will come in and turn off the machines that are keeping Ty’s brother alive. I can’t stand to think about it.

  Mr. and Mrs. Collier block my view of Kyle as they approach him and, one at a time, lean over to kiss him while Ty walks around to his opposite side.

  Holding my breath, I make my way to the foot of the bed. Machines wheeze and tick as I settle my gaze on Kyle. He’s pale and fragile. So frail. Like a broken bird.

  “Lily, this is Kyle,” Ty says with love and pride in his voice. “My brother.”

  I want to be strong for Ty, so I hold my emotions in check as our eyes meet. Ty nods, and I shift my attention to his mom and dad, relaxing a little when they offer me teary smiles of encouragement.

  On the table beside the bed, I see a photograph of Ty standing with Kyle on a mountaintop. I recognize friendly mischief in the younger boy’s eyes. He looks so much like Ty. So full of life.

  As Ty takes one of his brother’s hands, and his parents take the other, I lift the violin to my shoulder and close my eyes, holding in my mind that image from the photograph, thinking of everything I’ve learned about this boy. The people and the places he loved. The things he liked to do. Each quirk and quality that makes him unique. I want so much for the power of the music to flow through him and fill him with happiness. I want it to touch his parents, too, and Ty, and bring them peace.

  But the bow I hold is shaking, and anxiety rises up to choke me.

  Just as I’m about to panic and think I can’t do it, Iris’s words sweep through my mind: You’re strong enough alone now, but if you need me, look inside. Listen. . . .

  Blocking out every other noise in the room, I search my soul for the ceaseless, rhythmic whisper of her breathing, and when I hear it, a deep wave of calm washes over me, along with a certainty that the music will reach Kyle, and he’ll live on, no matter what.

  I inhale, and with a steady hand, touch the bow to the strings.

  Acknowledgments

  This book would not exist without the following people, to whom I owe a huge debt of gratitude:

  My wise, wonderful, and patient editors, Sarah Sevier and Tyler Infinger, who helped me over the bumps and through the valleys, and pointed out all the things I didn’t see.

  The fabulous HarperTeen team, who created a beautiful book around my story and presented it to the reading world.

  My agent, Jenny Bent, who asked for more time when I desperately needed it, and saw me through a difficult period.

  Anita Howard, April Redmon, Linda Castillo, and Marcy McKay, who read and reread, again and again and again, and never complained. (And who, miraculously, love and support me no matter how much I whine!)

  The folks at Roasters Coffee & Tea Company on Soncy in Amarillo, Texas, who provided me with a friendly, comfortable place to work (and great coffee!) whenever I needed to be out of the house.

  My good friend Joe Kitchens, who shared his expertise as a flight paramedic by walking me through the details of a mountain rescue mission. Even though the rescue scene was cut from the book’s final version, his insights helped me get things straight in my own mind so that I could move forward.

  And last but not least, my husband, Jeff, for too many things to list here.

  THANKS to all of you!

  About the Author

  JENNIFER ARCHER moved twenty-three times before her eleventh birthday—and once more at the age of sixteen. She has lived in Texas, Colorado, New Mexico, Kansas, Arizona, California, and Oklahoma. An avid reader no matter where she was, Jennifer has always felt at home in the pages of a good book. Today, Jennifer spends as much time writing books as she does reading them. She is also the author of THROUGH HER EYES, as well as several novels for adults. The mother of two grown sons, Jennifer lives in Amarillo, Texas, with her husband and two dogs. You can visit her online at www.jenniferarcher.net.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  Also by Jennifer Archer

  THROUGH HER EYES

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  Credits

  Cover art © 2013 by Trevillion Images

  Cover design by Michelle Taormina

  Copyright

  HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

  The Shadow Girl

  Copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Archer

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American
Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Archer, Jennifer.

  The shadow girl / Jennifer Archer. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: “When Lily Winston’s father dies on her seventeenth birthday, he leaves behind a mystery about her family’s past—and about the mysterious shadow girl who has followed Lily and whispered in her ear for her entire life”—Provided by publisher.

  ISBN 978-0-06-183460-8

  EPUB Edition MARCH 2013 ISBN 9780062203007

  [1. Identity—Fiction. 2. Secrets—Fiction. 3. Love—Fiction. 4. Death—Fiction. 5. Supernatural—Fiction. 6. Family life—Colorado—Fiction. 7. Colorado—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.A67462Sh 2013

  2012011524

  [Fic]—dc23

  CIP

  AC

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  13 14 15 16 17 LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  FIRST EDITION

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