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"You? What about you?"

  "Aren't I a good thing?"

  Zoey frowned. "Most of the time."

  "So, I'm not now? Is that what you're saying?"

  "If the shoe fits."

  He opened his mouth and then shut it.

  "If you have something to say, say it."

  "Zoey, I don't want to fight."

  "Say it!"

  Alex looked frustrated. "I'm not trying to compare who's having a harder time, okay? I know you love Macy like a sister. I know the pregnancy is obviously harder on you. Probably in a lot more ways than I think. You're the one solid in my life with everything else falling apart. I really don't want to fight."

  "It's a little late for that." Zoey stormed to Macy's room.

  "Are you going to stay there tonight?" Alex asked.

  "Yep." She slammed the door behind her. She locked it and threw herself onto the bed, finally allowing the tears to fall. It felt like the world was crushing her, and arguing with Alex only made things worse. How could he have not seen those jerks pointing at her and calling her names?

  She sat up and looked around Macy's room which had almost become hers.

  Scratching noises brought her attention to the ferret cage. The cute, little face stared up at her. Ducky begged for attention. Sighing, she opened the cage and he ran down the levels and into her lap. He jumped around, making Zoey laugh, despite everything else. She picked him up and carried him to the bed.

  Ducky scampered across the bed, hopping around like a flea. The poor thing was attention-starved. She hadn't paid him much attention, and she doubted anyone else had, either, aside from cleaning the cage. He darted under the covers and she watched as he moved around, making the blankets go up and down in the process.

  She peeked into his cage—the litter box had piled up and the food dish was empty. Zoey wasn't supposed to clean any litter boxes—doctor's orders—so she would have to tell Alex or Chad. But she had to feed the poor thing.

  Keeping her attention on the bouncing covers to make sure he didn't escape, Zoey got up and grabbed the bag of food and filled the food dish.

  When she sat back down, Ducky popped out of the covers. He climbed up her shirt onto her shoulder and went around the back of her neck to the other side, tickling her. He got caught in her hair, so she had to pull him out, untangling her hair in the process.

  It was nice to have the distraction. Ducky was so cute, and the way he jumped around was hilarious. If her life didn't suck so much, she would have laughed at him. Once free of her hair, he jumped around on top of the covers for a while, a few times trying to run down the bed, but Zoey grabbed him each time. The last thing she wanted to do was to have to chase him around the room.

  When Macy had first gotten him, he had gotten stuck—or just enjoyed hiding—inside of the dresser behind a drawer. The two of them had spent hours chasing after him, trying to get him out. He darted through the drawers, out onto the floor, around the room, and back into the dresser again.

  That was why Zoey was so careful not to let him off the bed. It had been hard enough for two of them to catch him, she didn't want to do have to chase him through the room on her own. He seemed to have more energy than ever before, and that was saying a lot for a ferret. He slept most of the day, cram-packing all that energy into a few short hours.

  She was about ready to put him back in the cage when he dawdled over to her and snuggled against her bulging belly. Zoey leaned back and stroked his little body while he snuggled against her.

  "You miss her, too? How are we going to get her back?" Zoey sat there, petting him until he fell asleep. "What are we going to do about anything?" Zoey's eyes got heavy and she didn't want to fall asleep and have Ducky wake up and get lost, so she put him back in the smelly cage and then climbed into Macy's bed, too tired to care about the stink of the litter box.

  When she woke up, it was dark and she had to go to the bathroom really bad. She remembered when that intruder had broken into the Mercer's house, knocking Zoey out and leaving her in their garage. She held her breath, not wanting to go out.

  The doctor had warned her flashbacks could occur at any time, even if it had been a long time. It had been months and she had almost forgotten about it, but she was terrified to go into the hall. She had been going to the bathroom in the middle of the night for a while with no problems. She also knew the Mercer's had bought a top of the line security system and still had the police keeping an eye on the place. Even though they didn't park out front anymore, they made a point to drive by often enough, especially at night.

  The pressure on her bladder urged her to get out of bed. She slid her swelling feet onto the floor and tip-toed to the door. She put her ear against it, listening. The only thing she could hear was the sound of her own labored breathing.

  Zoey opened the door, half-expecting to see the man standing there with a knife. Yes, she had an active imagination, but there was good reason for it this time. The hall was empty and dark, only lit with a night light several feet away. It was enough to see she had nothing to worry about.

  She went to the bathroom and then considered going to Alex's room. She was still ticked at him for being so dense. Even if he hadn't heard what those kids had said at the theater, he should have believed her. He had been acting like such a buffoon, but she still wanted to be with him.

  Tip-toeing again, she went to his room and slid the door open. The room was dark and she could hear his heavy breathing, so she closed the door behind her—not that Chad would care that they were in there together. Alyssa would, but she wasn't there.

  Sliding in next to him, she made herself comfortable under the covers. She remembered the Star Wars sheets he'd had to put on the bed when the laundry had piled up. Alex had been really embarrassed, but Zoey was more impressed that they had found them in the queen size.

  Alex stirred next to her. "Zoey?"

  "Yeah." She moved closer to him, feeling her anger melt away.

  He wrapped an arm around her. "You're not mad at me?"

  She shook her head, not actually answering.

  "I love you," he whispered and then his breathing slipped back to what it had been. She listened to the rhythm for a few minutes before falling asleep herself.

  Mirror

  Macy stood at the window of Heather's room in the hospital. It was late, but she couldn't sleep. Heather still hadn't come back to the room, although she did see another nurse, who came in looking surprised.

  She had said, "Heather, what are you doing here? I thought you were still on the second floor."

  Macy smiled. "Got off on good behavior."

  The nurse's eyes widened. "Really? Well, that's certainly good news." Then she had brought Macy dinner, which wasn't very good, but was at least something in her stomach. And it was something that Macy hadn't had to cook herself.

  That had been hours ago. Candice had checked on her a couple times, but said she was busy with other patients. Macy was anxious to meet Heather, the girl she had been pretending to be for months. The girl who no one questioned was her, not even her grandparents or her neighbor who had known her since she was a baby. Even Macy, when looking at Heather's pictures, had a hard time believing they weren't of her. She had seen twins who had looked less alike than Heather and her.

  The door opened and Macy jumped. She ran to a corner and slid down to the floor. Someone was shoved into the room. "Stay there and be good. You don't want to go back to the second floor, Heather. I'm locking the door, but hopefully tomorrow we won't have to." The door slammed shut and Macy heard the lock go into place.

  Her heart picked up speed. How was she going to introduce herself to Heather?

  Heather swore and then turned on the light. She turned around and froze when she saw Macy. "Who the…? What? Is this some kind of trick? Are they trying to—?"

  Macy stood up. "Heather, I—"

  "Are they trying to mess with me? Who are you and why do you look exactly like me? Even your hair!" She picked up a book a
nd held it as though it were a weapon. She stared at Macy. "You look just like me. What's going on?"

  "Let me explain. Please."

  Heather lowered the book slightly, giving Macy a suspicious look. "I guess I have nothing better to do. But first, who are you?"

  Macy held her hands up slightly, showing her that she wasn't going to hurt her. She sat in a chair. "It's a long story. You might want to sit."

  "This should be good." Heather sat on the bed, not taking her eyes off Macy.

  "My name is Macy Mercer and your dad kidnapped me to replace you."

  Heather's face appeared to soften. "What?"

  Macy wrung her hands together. He found me online and pretended to be someone else—a teenage boy—so I would meet him. When I did, he kidnapped me. He locked me up until I agreed to call him Dad." Macy went on to explain some of what Chester had put her through, describing him and her grandparents so Heather would know she wasn't lying. She even described the farm house and the house she had just left.

  The book dropped from Heather's hands and hit the floor. "He replaced me?" Her eyes shone with tears. "What about Mom? Did he replace her, too?"

  "Yeah, he replaced her too, with a younger model. I'm sorry."

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. "How did you know I was here? How did you get in? Do the nurses finally believe me?"

  "I got away from your dad and then your stupid neighbor brought me here."

  "Candice."

  Macy nodded. "But it actually worked out because I wanted to help get you out of here."

  "How'd you know I was here? If Dad wanted you to be me, he wouldn't have told you I was here."

  "I found your diaries."

  "You read my private journals?" Heather's face flashed with anger. "How dare you?"

  "How could I not? I didn't know what had happened to you or your mom. I knew nothing. You think Chester was going to tell me anything? Besides, I at least knew where to find you. That's why I didn't fight to get away from Candice. She was my ticket to get in here to help you get out."

  Heather calmed down. "I probably would have done the same thing. Well, what about your family?"

  "I need to get back to them after we get out of here. They have to be worried sick. I've been gone for months now."

  "How are we going to get out? There are heavy, locked doors everywhere. You have to have a card to open them and the nurses don't leave those lying around. Trust me, I've looked."

  "I have two ideas. Maybe together we can come up with more. But I thought we could either steal one of those cards to get out the doors or we can work to convince the nurses that you're cured."

  Heather laughed. "Cured? There's nothing wrong with me. They're the jerks who won't listen to me. Dad has had everything covered, down to finding someone who sounds just like Mom to talk to everyone over the phone, pretending to be in Paris with her new love." She scowled. "I hate him so much. Anyway, that's why I'm so quick to believe that he replaced me with someone who looks exactly like me. Did you go to my school? Did my friends believe you?"

  "He never let me out of the house. Can you think of another way to get us out?"

  "It's going to take forever for them to believe that I've changed. I'm their trouble patient—and that's saying a lot around here. I just stopped caring. They wouldn't listen to me about Dad. He knows how to make people think what he wants."

  "Do you think it's possible to sneak one of the key cards?"

  "I've tried. They only ever keep those clipped onto the nurses' shirts."

  "You don't think they have extras in that front desk somewhere?"

  "They're not going to let us just walk up and go through the drawers."

  "No, but they don't keep it manned all the time. When Candice brought me in, no one was there."

  "Really? That's pretty rare. There must've been an incident. I've never seen it empty."

  "What if we cause an incident? You act up and then I'll run to the desk when everyone is busy."

  Heather looked like she was considering it. "The only problem with that is that if I act up, I'm going to solitary for a long, long time. What if they find both of us? Then they'd be forced to listen to us. I mean, really, if you've been kidnapped, they have to be able to find that out. They can pretend Mom's in Paris, but they can find out about you."

  "Yeah, but then we're back to you being locked up here." Macy frowned.

  "But you could tell them I'm not crazy. You've seen what Dad is capable of. If you tell them everything he did, they'll have no choice but to believe me and everything I've been saying all along. They'll know why I act out—because they won't listen to me. You'll get to go home, I'll get out of here, and Mom will finally get justice."

  "Where will you go? Who will you stay with?"

  "Either my grandparents or with my aunt and uncle. I guess it depends on who wants to take me. As long as I get out of here, I don't care."

  "What do you think our best option is?" Macy asked.

  "You know what? It would be fun to mess with the nurses and doctors here. After everything they've put me through, treating me worse than a criminal."

  Macy groaned. "I just want to get home to my family. It's what, March? Your dad took me in November."

  "Please help me mess with them. It's going to take us a while to get out of here anyway. We may as well have some fun."

  "If we march out there together and tell them everything, they have to listen to us. The cops were just at your house this morning. Your dad is the one who needs to be taken care of—all of this is his fault. Everything he did to you and your mom, he needs to pay. He also needs to pay for kidnapping me. The staff here, they're nothing more than another one of his victims."

  Heather snorted. "Trust me, girlfriend. They're not innocent. Come on, what's another day? We can screw with them and then tell them the truth after."

  "And then have them pissed at us? They won't listen to us."

  "You think they'll listen to us now? How long have you been here in my room posing as me? I was on the second floor all day. You know how to pretend to be me."

  Macy put her face into her hands. Why was Heather being so difficult? She looked up and stared Heather in the eyes. "I've been pretending to be you for practically half a year. I just want to be me again and go home. I haven't seen my family in so long."

  "At least you get to see yours." Tears shone in her eyes again. "My mom's dead and my dad's going to jail—not that I want to see him. I've had everything ripped from me, too, but when I leave here I'm not getting it back."

  Macy's anger melted somewhat. "I'm sorry about that. I really am. But don't you want out of here? I want to help you get out. That's why I didn't fight Candice much when she tried to bring me here. I did try telling her I was kidnapped, but she wouldn't hear anything of it. She was convinced that I was you. Forget about getting back at them. Let's just try to get out of here. I know your grandparents would be more than happy to have you home with them. Think about them."

  "How are they? I haven't seen them in, like, a year."

  "Good. Ingrid taught me how to make some meals from scratch. She couldn't believe that you forgot."

  A corner of Heather's mouth curled upward. "I'll bet. I've been cooking with her since I was little. Mom used to get so nervous with me so close to the stove. How's Grandpa?"

  "Crotchety, but good."

  "That sounds about right. Does he still bump heads with Dad all the time?"

  "Yeah, they annoyed each other constantly."

  "It would be good to see them." Heather ran her hands through her tangled hair. "I really would like to get back at the nurses, but you're right, it's not fair to you. You've had to deal with Dad all this time. So what are we going to do? Just walk out there together and say listen to us?"

  Macy shrugged. "I've been trying to figure that out ever since I got here."

  "I don't know if you noticed, but they locked us in. We either have to wait till morning or make a scene to get them in here. Then
we have to hope they don't separate us."

  "No one is going to check on you before morning?"

  "Not unless I give them reason to."

  "But it's a hospital. Aren't they supposed to check on you?"

  Heather shook her head. "I'm locked inside with no way to get out. If I was on suicide watch or something, they'd have me in a room with a camera, but otherwise, nope. They just let us sleep and think."

  Macy leaned her head against the wall. "I just want to get home."

  "You may as well get comfortable. We can think up ideas before morning. Do you want the bed? I've slept in a padded room wearing a tight jacket. I can handle the floor."

  "I've slept in the barn's cellar and in the back of your dad's truck. I can deal with the floor too."

  Heather's eyes widened. "He put you in the storm cellar?"

  "Until I agreed to call him Dad and answer to your name."

  She looked like she was going to be sick. "I always wondered if he put Mom down there when she was missing. When she came back she kept saying the barn."

  Macy remembered that from Heather's diaries, but wasn't going to say anything. "I did find a tube of lipstick down there."

  Tears ran down Heather's face. "You know what? You're right. Screw the nurses. It's my dad we need to focus on." She got up and walked toward the door.

  "Wait. What are you doing?"

  "I'm going to pound on the door. With you here, they have to listen to me. They have to listen to us."

  "Hold on." Macy's heart raced so much she started to have trouble breathing. "Are you sure they'll listen to us? The last thing I want is to end up a patient here, too. They wouldn't send us to solitary? I don't want to be locked up anymore."

  "We're already locked up, in case you haven't noticed."

  "Yeah, but at least we're not alone. Do you know how long it's been since I've had someone to talk to? To actually plan something out with someone else?" It had been Luke three months earlier. "We'd better think this through."

  Heather narrowed her eyes. "Why are you changing your mind all of a sudden?"

  "Last time I acted rashly trying to escape, someone died."