Page 17 of Death and Do-Overs

Rose said, “Someone killed your clone.”

“I noticed that,” I said.

“You could still be in danger,” she said.

“No more than Imogen or Wendy.” That may not have been entirely true, but there was no way for any of us to know. It was possible that whoever had killed Nie didn’t know about me, which would mean they would have no reason to come looking for me at all. I said, “The faster we get the magical toxicology results, the better.”

Andrew’s jaw twitched at my description. Apparently “magical toxicology” was not the correct term, but he was too polite to tell me so.

“Icould stay,” Rose offered.

That option went against my desire for solitudeandmy aversion for relying on another person.

But, Rose was a revenant. She couldthrow cars.If there was anyone who could keep me safe from a physical threat, it was her. I was grateful she cared.

Maybe we could quietly sit in different rooms.

“If you insist. But without Wendy’s magic working, my only option moving forward…” A lump formed in my throat. “I’m going to have to touch Nie’s head.”

Rose’s brown eyes softened with understanding. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

Andrew and Rose went outside and spoke for a few minutes before Andrew departed.

Alone, I stared down at Nie’s cracked lips and lifeless eyes.

A dull ache settled in my chest, a shadow of loss. Nie and I were pieces of each other, meant to fit together to form a whole, yet I hesitated to touch her. She’d changed me, and not necessarily for the better.

She’d made me…soft. I shivered at the thought of it.

I used to move through life with such certainty, but now I found myself pausing at the edge of this decision. It made no sense. There was only one possible action to take.

But it would be smart to get some context before I was struck with all of Nie’s memories, before being forced to relive dying. I’d done it before, and it was horrible. Zero stars. Would not recommend.

So, before I touched Nie and burdened myself with all of that trauma, it made sense to check my bank account first. I logged in on my phone and scanned through the numbers, recognizing every single one of the charges. That in and of itself was unsettling.

Half of the charges should have belonged to Nie.

If I’d have checked the account sooner, I would have known something was wrong. Maybe I could have found Nie before she’d died. Maybe I could have helped her and prevented this entire tragedy.

I took a breath and a moment to push away the hypotheticals. What was done was done. All I could do now was figure out who’d killed her, and make them pay.

Finally I spotted a charge I didn’t recognize.

There on the screen was the only clue in the digital receipts of our lives, a train ticket purchased October twenty-third at the Piccadilly station. Unfortunately, the charge didn’t offer further details.

“Where were you headed?” I asked Nie’s head, then cringed as my unintentional pun registered.

She was me, so where would I be headed? I’d always considered trains a charming form of transportation. It was possible she’d gone for the ride alone, or for a destination I, too, would be drawn to once I saw it listed at the station. I’d always wanted to visit the Crescent City area, with its unique blend of colorful supernatural celebration and its dark obsession with the macabre.

I pulled on a pair of combat boots, tied my hair into two messy buns, and threw on a warm coat. Then I looked once more at Nie’s head. I should touch it. I should gain her knowledge and go to the train station with every possible advantage.

My stomach twisted in knots.

What if Andrew missed something and needed to examine the head again but it was gone because I’d poofed it away?

The oversized messenger bag I used to haul my finds from the used bookstore sat by the door. It was perfect. It had a bunch of pockets where I could stash necessities without having to reach into the main compartment.

---