The Similars (The Similars #1)(100)

If this is a lot of information to process, I apologize. I simply wanted you to know the truth. You are a Similar, Eden, in every sense of the word.

With all due respect,

Augustus Gravelle





The Clone


The note from Augustus Gravelle no longer exists. I tore it into a thousand pieces and threw them over the ferry’s railing into the endless ocean. No one knows about the letter, because I haven’t told anyone. And I won’t. Not ever.

I won’t think about what it said either. I won’t dwell on the fact that my father has never really loved me because I am me, not her. I won’t think about how my name isn’t my own. How I am an imposter, a stand-in, a replacement for a little girl whom everyone loved. I can’t think about how my father knew—and lied to me all these years. So much for family. But I keep this all to myself. Now is Oliver’s moment. His turn, finally, to see his parents again.

The three of us have ridden the bus back to the station where Levi and I started our journey. We are fatigued and numb, but that does not stop us from being joyful.

Oliver called Jane and Booker before we boarded the ferry, breaking the news gently. I’m quite sure Jane didn’t believe him, just as I didn’t—couldn’t—believe the news at first. But now, in the middle of the bus depot, she holds her son in her arms. Her frail, ravaged frame grasps him like a lifeline. Booker’s tears run down his cheeks unabated. I feel myself smiling. This is right and good. There will be time for explanations later, about how and why Underwood did this to them. For the moment, a son has been returned to his family. Jane can breathe freely again.

Tears pool in my eyes as I watch the happy reunion. There was a time when seeing Oliver alive, like this, was all that mattered to me.

But now—now, there is Levi. Levi, who has never had a chance at a happy reunion like this. Levi, who has only ever known suffering. Levi, whom we left behind.

I check my plum for the millionth time, hoping I’ll get a buzz from him. A note, a one-liner. Something that will tell me he’s all right.

“Dash,” I whisper. “Is there anything from Levi?”

“No, Emma,” Dash responds. “I’ll let you know the moment I get an update.”

The update doesn’t come.

*

Time passes. Two weeks, to be precise.

I only let myself think about Gravelle’s note in the middle of the night, during the witching hours when I can’t sleep.

Is he lying? I’ve asked myself that question a hundred times, and I still don’t have a good answer.

Is it true? I’ve asked that question more often, but the mere asking sends my heart to my feet like an anvil.

If I am not who I thought I was… If I’m not my father’s original daughter, but a stand-in, a replacement…

I know nothing about who I am. My past isn’t what I perceived it to be. My future is a question mark.

Only one thing remains constant: Oliver is alive, and for that, I am grateful. Back at Darkwood, he sits next to me at the long, rough-hewn table, and we eat lunch. He is back. He begged Jane and Booker to allow him to return for the last six weeks of school, explaining that the normalcy of his life at Darkwood would serve as a much-needed salve to heal his wounds. They were reluctant but ultimately didn’t argue. Having him back here is a dream come true, but that doesn’t change the fact that the serrated knife is still lodged in my chest.

If I am honest with myself, Oliver is not the same. Gone is the carefree and spontaneous boy who viewed the world with such enthusiasm and wonder. Pippa has assured me that this is simply a side effect of the pharmas, that in a few weeks’ time he will be back to his old, chipper self—but I worry.

Today, I try not to. My father is visiting. He felt the need to check on me after the news of Oliver’s return. I’ve held a spot for him next to me. Prudence sits on the other side of that. Pru has been on the receiving end of her fair share of squeals, hugs, and screams. She is alive, she is well—and she remembers who attacked her. Tessa Leroy hasn’t been at school since our return. Pippa sits with us too, and the rest of the Similars. It’s unfamiliar and strange, yet it feels easy, like it always should have been this way.

Pru points to the feeds. We all look up to see the latest report on clones’ rights. We aren’t the only ones paying attention; nearly everyone in the dining hall stares up at the view space. Judging from the fragments of conversations that I hear, some are pleased with what they see, others unsettled.

“What’s happening?” I murmur. “What did I miss while I was gone?”

“Clones without updated paperwork will no longer be allowed across the border into the U.S. And that paperwork, even if it is current, can be challenged by any U.S. court. Which means that individual judges can deny a clone’s citizenship,” Pippa explains.

“But that’s unconstitutional,” I say, my eyes traveling from Pru to Pippa, to Maude, Theodora, and the others.

“Not if the Supreme Court decides that clones aren’t human,” Pippa says.

“We can’t think about that now,” Maude says evenly. “We need to lie low. Not give anyone any more reason to dislike or distrust us or question if we belong here.”

“And what happens when Headmaster Ransom calls you back to the research lab? Are you going to go?” I press.