Page 86 of Scarred Sins
He smiles, sheepishly. “What did you think of the letters?”
I pause, and I can’t help but grin at the soft pink that dusts over his cheeks. He’s trying his best not to show he’s flustered, but it’s failing because the longer I stay quiet and just look at him through the mirror, the darker the shade gets.
“I never read them,’’ I admit. “Back then, I had no idea who the hell was stalking me, so I was scared of the contents. Now that you’ve reminded me, I’ll read them soon.’’
He immediately goes still, shoulders going rigid. I finish with the bleach and toss the bowl and the brush into the bathtub to wash it later. He immediately spins around, eyes wide and his entire face almost in a blazing shade of red.
“No!” He stammers. “Don’t read them. Throw them out, or better yet, let me burn them for you.’’
An amused smile is on my lips, and I suppress the urge to burst out laughing. “Why are you getting so flustered? What the hell did you write in those?”
“Nothing too bad!” He buries his face in his hands. “The letters were just… admiring you, you know? Nothing creepy.’’
“Yeah, because stalking me, massacring an entire prison for me, and killing men for me isn’t creepy at all.’’
He lifts his head up, then shrugs, his face slowly returning to its normal color. “That was just… me expressing my admiration subtly.’’
“You need to work on your subtlety.’’
“No, I prefer surprising you.’’
I snort.
My mind drifts back to my days in Long Grove. The restaurant I worked at, the owners, and my coworkers. I didn’t have any real friends, but I was very friendly with the staff. It wasn’t ideal, but it was somewhat peaceful, and back then, I could’ve imagined spending the rest of my life there. How did it all change so quickly?
Then, my thoughts get filled with all the questions I had for Arlo when he first revealed himself to me. Now that we’ve gotten closer, I’m more comfortable voicing them out, and since the bleach needs to sit on his hair for a while, I decide to ask everything.
“Hey, Arlo,’’ I call out, and he turns to look at me after washing his hands in the sink. “I have a few questions.’’
“Ask away.’’
“Amy Marshall…all of that, how did you find her, and how did you choose her?”
He pulls me to sit on the edge of the tub, with him returning to sit on the small stool, eyes looking up at me. He takes my hands in his and strokes the back of my palms with his thumbs.
“Well, I’d been planning to get you out of prison for a long time before I actually did it. In the meantime, I’ve been looking into people and cities that are most compatible with you, where you won’t be recognized. So, I ran your picture through a few programs, trying to find a doppelganger.’’
My brows narrow. “Wait, back up, a doppelganger?”
He nods. “The driver’s license, the ID, and everything in between – I just fabricated them because I couldn’t get my hands on Amy’s original ones. But the images on the documents? It’s Amy; it’s not you.’’
I freeze. “What?”
My mind swirls with various thoughts.
“Yeah, and you did an amazing job memorizing the background I’ve sent you.’’
That’s why no one batted an eye when I appeared as Amy. That’s why a lot of people used to stop me and chat with me, despite me not knowing them. Amy knew them. That’s why no one actually cared about me living in Amy’s childhood home – because they all believed I was Amy.
“How is it possible for the two of us to look exactly alike?” I whisper.
Arlo sighs. “I’m not sure. Her parents were dead already, and by the time I set you free, Amy had been missing for a while. No one reported her disappearance because she left Long Grove and went to Los Angeles. But that’s where her traces end. No one used her cards; no one had even seen her. I assumed that she died, which was why I opted for her.’’
My heart is hammering against my ribcage, the emotions overwhelming me. Mainly, it’s confusing. I’ve never met anyone with that many similarities and that they weren’t related. With a deep breath, I squeeze his hands.
“Are we related?”
“No,’’ he says. “Your family history has no overlap with hers. There’s not a chance you two are related, unless it’s through your biological father.’’
