The Good Twin(69)

I swung my legs off the bed and carefully stood up. “I’d like to go to my sister’s room.”

“There’s a cop outside your sister’s room now. I’m not sure he’ll let you see her.”

“Let me try.”

She unhooked me from the wires that led from various spots on my body to the pole by the bedside, then followed me out of the room. “She’s down this hallway, Room 413.”

Slowly, I made my way there, careful not to move my arm, which was still in a sling. When I reached her room, I asked the policeman if I could go in.

He hesitated, then said, “Just for a few minutes.”

I walked up to Charly’s bedside and sat down. “You killed Ben. You shot me.”

She turned away from me for a few moments. When she finally met my gaze, she said, “He deserved to die.”

“Did I deserve to be shot?”

“You got in the way. It was meant for Ben.”

“I begged you to let him be. You didn’t care that you’d go to prison, that we’d be separated again. You didn’t care about me.” I paused, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I told Detective Saldinger that I’m Charlotte Gordon, and you’re Mallory.”

“What!” She looked over at the cop. “So, that’s why he’s there.”

I continued in a whisper. “I came to you to stop you from being murdered. All you had to do was let Saldinger arrest Ben. Now, you’re going to prison.”

“I won’t go to prison if you say Ben had the gun, that he shot you.”

I shook my head. I’d thought about just backing up Charly’s story, never telling Saldinger the truth, but I couldn’t get past the fact that Charly had killed someone. I’d had very little growing up, but one of the things my mother instilled in me was that actions have consequences. It seemed wrong for Charly to walk away from what she did scot-free. “You made your choice. You need to pay for it. Why shouldn’t I take over your life? It’s no use to you anymore.”

Her face darkened. “You won’t get away with that. I can prove I’m Charly.” She stuck out her hand and pointed to a small scar. “See? I’ve had that since childhood. Poppy knows it’s there.”

I stuck out my hand. “Really? You mean a scar like this? Ben told me about your accident. It was really quite easy to cut myself. It didn’t take too long for the scar to form.”

“You bitch,” she hissed.

“I was supposed to be you, in every respect.”

She lay quietly for a minute, chewing on her lip. “It’s money you want, right? I can make you rich. Filthy rich. I’ll give you the hundred million Ben was going to leave for you. Just back up my story to Saldinger. Ben shot you, and then I rushed him for the gun.”

I felt tears spring to my eyes. “I didn’t want the money. I wanted a sister.”





CHAPTER 48

The next morning, after I’d been poked and prodded by the nursing staff, and runny eggs with burned toast had been served for breakfast, an older man, his skin tanned and wrinkled from the sun, stepped into my room and sat in the chair next to my bed. “How are you feeling?”

I recognized him right away. He was Herman Jensen, Charly’s grandfather.

“Hi, Poppy.”

His mouth turned down to a scowl. “I know you’re really Mallory.”

“Poppy, how can you say that?”

He moved his chair closer to mine and lowered his voice. “I would have always been able to tell you apart.” He cleared his throat. “Charly told me what she did, Mallory. She wasn’t herself. Watching her father die, finding out Ben wanted her dead, even you turning up—which was a good thing, she was happy to find you—but all of it together, she just couldn’t handle it all. Her thoughts got all mixed up.”

He cleared his throat. “She’s going to be discharged this morning, but she’s under arrest. They’ll take her straight to jail, and then she’ll be arraigned. You can put a stop to it. Tell them the truth about who you are. Back up her story that it was Ben who had the gun. I’ve arranged for her to be admitted to a private rehabilitation center. She’ll get intensive counseling there. She’s deeply repentant about what she did. Please know that.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Jensen waited for me to open my eyes and look at him. “She wants you to forgive her.”

I felt a heaviness in my body. I looked around the room and spotted a large vase of flowers on a table in the corner. Without asking, I knew they’d come from her.

“Please, Mallory, she’s genuinely sorry.”

“You’re her grandfather. Of course, you’d believe her.” If I changed my story now, told Saldinger who I really was, I’d probably be in even more legal trouble than I already faced.

I glanced up at the ceiling for a few beats. When I looked ahead, I pinned Jensen with my eyes. “Tell Mallory I don’t forgive her.”

His nostrils flared. “She’s Charly. You know that. I’m going to tell the police who she is.”

“You’re an old man who just lost his son. They won’t believe you over me.”

“We’ll see about that.” As he stood up to leave, he looked like he’d aged ten years over the course of the last ten minutes. He found my eyes and silently implored me to put my family first, then left the room.