Chapter 14 · Copy Cat

"Get the hell away from me!" I screamed, slamming my back against the rusted bulkhead.

My combat knife was out, the edge shimmering under the flickering neon of the safehouse. But the girl in front of me didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She just stood there, shivering in a tattered oversized shirt that looked like it had been ripped from a corpse.

And she had my face.

Not a resemblance. Not a family likeness. It was like looking into a cracked mirror. The same jawline, the same wide-set eyes, even the same small scar cutting through her left eyebrow.

"Maya?" she whispered. Her voice was a ghost of mine—higher, thinner, shaking with a terror that made my own skin crawl. "Is it really you? Please... please help me."

"Who the hell are you?" I snapped. I didn't lower the knife. "Where did you get that face?"

"I don't know!" she sobbed, collapsing to her knees. The sound was visceral, a wet, hacking kind of cry that hit me right in the chest. "They just... they kept me in the dark. They told me I was a mistake. A spare. Please, big sister, don't hurt me."

Big sister.