Chapter 62

SIXTY-TWO

FOURTEEN YEARS AGO

AMETHYST

Why must I be stuck with an evil twin? I hate her.

She’s staring at me from the other side of the back seat, breathing so hard I want to slam my fist into her nose. But that would get me into even more trouble.

Dolly got us expelled from school, even though it wasn’t my fault. Mom can’t cope with Dolly’s antics, so we’re both being banished to summer camp.

That’s why I’m glaring out into the countryside. It’s a nice day, with sunlight shining through the tall trees, but I can’t appreciate it because Dolly’s laser eyes keep burning through the back of my head.

Can’t we just stop the car and release her into the forest like a wild animal? She’d be happier there, living like a female Mowgli among the wolves. Just as I’m picturing her picking ants out of honey, her foot lands on my thigh, leaving a dirty print on my khaki shorts.

“Are we nearly there yet?” she whines.

I twist around in my seat and kick her shin, wishing I could break the bone.

She shrieks, “Dad, Amy just kicked me!”

“Cut it out, both of you!” Dad snarls from the front seat. “Your mother is struggling enough. It’s this behavior that made her reject you.”

The words hit like a punch to the chest. Mom hates me, even though I did nothing wrong. I catch Dad’s eyes in the rearview mirror and cringe. He thinks I started it, but I wish he knew the truth. It always begins with Dolly.

She’s just like the shadow in that fairytale, always lurking and causing mischief that somehow never gets linked back to her. Why can’t she just die?

We pass a creepy water tower that looks like a rusty kettle on stilts. Dad turns into a narrow space between two overgrown hedges, making me grip the seatbelt. Branches reach out and scrape against the sides of the car, sending shivers down my spine.

It’s like we’re in a carwash, except we’re being attacked by nature instead of brushes. My breath quickens, and I jerk back from the window. Roots crunch under the tires like giant bones, and the foliage closes in around us like we’re being swallowed by some monstrous beast.

Dolly screams, “Dad, stop the car. We’re going to die!”

My heart pounds. I hate my sister, but maybe she’s right. Maybe Dad is dumping us in the forest like we’re Gretel and Gretel’s cheap imitation, because he’s finally getting a son. Maybe that’s why Dad left the cases Mom packed for us with his assistant, Becky. What if we’re going to spend the rest of our lives in an isolated shack?

When Dad ignores Dolly, I stare into the side of his face. His eyes are fixed on a path so narrow that it might as well be invisible, and his hands grip the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white.

Dolly shoves me in the arm and screeches, “Say something!”

My lips part to form words, but I clamp them shut. Why should I help the girl who tried to gut me with a craft knife in front of our friends?

She’s been mean to me for months, saying I broke or took her things when I never did. She blames me for wetting her bed, when I wouldn’t go into her stinky room. Whenever I show someone she hurt me, they always come back to find she did the same to herself.

So, I keep my mouth closed and leave her to wail and whine like a banshee.

The ground beneath us evens out, and light streams in through the leaves. Dolly finally shuts her big mouth as the car drives out of the branches and down a gravel path lined with more of the hedges.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her glaring at me like I’m the one who caused her panic attack. Ignoring her, I turn to Dad and ask, “Is this Three Fates?”

“Nearly there,” he says, his voice light.

The corners of my lips twitch. I know better than to smirk when Dolly is in this mood. She’ll probably rip out a chunk of my hair. Again.

This time, she won’t even wait for Dad to turn his back. After the stunt she pulled with the knife at school, everyone knows she’s got the problem. I’m just getting punished because I’m her identical twin. It’s not fair.

We continue down the winding path until we reach a tall fence topped with barbed wire. Behind them are even more trees. They’re so dense, I can’t see what’s on the other side. We could be headed anywhere.

Finally, we reach a gate. Dad stops the car outside it and picks up his phone to make a call. I steal a glance at Dolly, whose face is paler than diluted milk. Now is probably the time to ask what’s happening, but what’s the point? She’s the one who got us into the mess.

The gate swings open, and Dad drives through.

Minutes later, I spot a concrete building hidden behind tall trees. It’s made up of straight lines and square shapes, with narrow windows and a metal door. I can only see it because the sunlight bounces off the glass and making it sparkle through the leaves.

Dolly is too busy staring out into the grassy courtyard on the other side of the trees, where a group of girls in blue shirts practice fighting routines with a blonde instructor.

They’re our age, but look like drones with their choreographed movements. My breath stills at the thought of joining their ranks.

“What are they doing?” Dolly asks.

I shake my head, my stomach churning. When Mom described Three Fates as a summer camp, I expected cabins, campfires, crafts, and canoes. This looks like an army training center.

Dad parks close to the weirdos, turns off the engine, and looks at us in the rearview mirror. “If you girls hadn’t upset your mother so much, you’d be at school with your friends. If you follow the rules and obey your instructors, she might want you back.”

My throat thickens. I resent Dolly so much for making Mom hate me.

“What if only one of us is good?” I ask.

Dad twists around in his seat and sighs. “Your behavior is harming your mother’s pregnancy. She says this new baby comes first.”

My stomach twists into painful knots. What if Mom decides she only wants one kid and we never get to go home?

“What does that mean?” Dolly asks, her voice trembling.

“If only one of you can behave, then you’ll both stay here. You girls are a package deal. Understood?”

Dad steps out of the car, leaving his words hanging in the air like smoke. Dread sinks in my stomach as I picture myself trapped in this place with Dolly until I’m old enough to find my way home. The world will have changed, and it’ll be just like Rip Van Winkle or that fisherman in Japan who ran off with that turtle.

I turn to my twin and catch her wide-eyed stare. She’s trembling, looking like the message has finally sunk into her thick head. When she bites her bottom lip and stares at her lap, I want to punch her in the eyes. Her constant attacks and accusations drove Mom crazy. It’s Dolly’s fault, but she’s the one trying not to cry.

Dad strides past the exercising girls and toward the building, leaving us both behind. I fold my arms, not daring to follow. Let Dolly go there instead of me. I’ll stay here and return to Mom.

The blonde instructor leaves the girls to continue their routines and jogs over. She opens the door with a bright smile.

“Welcome to Three Fates. You must be Amy and Dolly. I’m Charlotte, your counselor, but you can call me Kappa.” Her voice is chipper, as if she’s trying to make a concrete box in the woods seem friendly. “Let’s get you girls settled in.”

Kappa leads us from the car into the main building. Inside, it looks like a prison with a long hallway full of locked doors and cold, gray walls.

We walk by an older girl mopping the floor with bleach, and another girl our age wiping the scanners on the metal doors. Now, I’m wondering if this place is a Kung Fu version of Annie.

At the end of the hallway is the only door that isn’t metal. Kappa knocks on its wooden surface and waits for a male voice to tell her to come in.

She pushes open the door, leading us into an office lined with shelves filled with thick, leather-bound books. The wooden desk with a high-backed chair straight ahead of us is empty, so I glance to the sofas on the right.

Dad sits opposite a man so terrifying that my blood runs cold. He turns his head in our direction and stares through deep blue eyes that I’m sure can read minds. The air becomes heavy and thick. I inch closer to Dolly and stare at my feet, praying he won’t speak to me.

“Amaryllis, Dahlia,” he says in a hypnotic voice. “Welcome to Three Fates. You may call me Delta.”