With Kate’s mother out of the room, Claire could breathe again. She rose and grasped the bed’s metal railing. “What do I need to do to see if I’m a good donor?”

  “It’s just a blood test.”

  “I’ll do it too,” Luke said. “Has the newspaper asked for the community to be tested? Surely there’s a match somewhere close.”

  “That’s very kind of you.”

  When Kate pushed down the sheets to reach for her cell phone, Claire saw a doll lying beside her. Her pulse quickened and began to hammer in her neck.

  She picked it up. “Where did you get this? I have one just like it.”

  She’d always been told hers was one of a kind and hand-made in Paris with human hair. The big blue eyes were much like hers and Kate’s, and the mouth showed tiny white teeth. Claire’s still sat on her dresser at home, but she hadn’t really looked at it in years.

  “It was a present from my dad after he went to Paris. For my fourth birthday.”

  “There’s a mark on the foot—1990 with a watermark that looks like a B with a circle around it.” Claire upended the doll and removed one shoe to reveal the date and the watermark. She leaned over and showed it to Kate.

  Her finger traced the watermark. “How’d you know that?”

  “I have one just like it with the same date.” Claire reached for Luke’s hand. Why would they both have the same dolls bought from the same manufacturer in the same year?

  THIRTY-FIVE

  The beep, beep of her IV was driving Kate crazy. She punched her call button to have the nurse come fix it, then sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “What does this mean? I looked up the artist a few years ago. It’s from some expensive shop in Paris.”

  She’d been totally shocked when Claire and Luke walked in. And even more shocked when they offered to get tested. But nothing rocked her like this. And from the way Claire’s eyes fluttered and her color came and went, the other woman was just as flummoxed.

  Kate reached for the doll again. “Your doll is identical in every way, right down to the date?”

  Claire nodded and crossed her legs in the chair, then recrossed them the other direction. “I felt as though I’d met your mother too.”

  The nurse hurried in to check on the IV. “Looks like you’re done, honey. The doctor said I could disconnect your IV if you wanted me to, just to make you more comfortable.”

  “Please. And, Luke, can you cool it down in here? I’m about to burn up.”

  Though Kate wanted nothing more than to get to the bottom of this, she was eager to be untethered. Luke went to the window unit and fiddled with the temperature. Cooler air began to filter over Kate’s hot cheeks.

  “There you go.” The nurse picked up the discarded items from the pic line and tossed them in the disposal container by the door. “Let your friends take you for a walk.” Her white shoes squeaked away, and she closed the door behind her.

  Kate looked up at the girl she’d come to think of as her half sister. A crazy, impossible idea began to take hold. Claire would likely vote to commit her if she actually said what she was thinking, but what did she have to lose at this point?

  She pleated her gown at the knee with her fingers. “I had an imaginary friend once. Her name was Rachel.”

  Something shifted deep in Claire’s eyes. “I’ve always liked that name. I think I had a friend named Rachel when I was little. I used to call myself Rachel when I was playing pretend. It drove my mom crazy.”

  “Do you remember anything about that friend?”

  Claire frowned and uncrossed her legs again. “Why the questions? What does an imaginary friend have to do with this?”

  “I have quite a few memories of my friend Rachel. I think she might have been real.”

  “You think Rachel is the little girl who was found?” Claire rose and paced the gray tile floor. “That makes no sense, Kate. She was identified by dental records, not DNA. At least not yet.”

  “No.” Kate slipped out of bed onto the cool floor. The cold air from the AC unit blew down her spine. She dropped both hands onto Claire’s shoulders. “Maybe you’re Rachel.”

  Claire’s eyes went wide, and Kate could see the fear shimmering in them. When she tried to twist out of her grip, Kate held on.

  “Just think about it, Claire. See if you have any memories of playing with someone you loved. Let’s go to Mom’s house. You can take a look around my room and see if anything seems familiar.”

  Claire succeeded in twisting away. “This is crazy, Kate! A-Are you saying you think we might be sisters?” She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

  “Explain the doll, then.”

  “I can’t.”

  She grabbed Claire’s arm and half dragged her to the bathroom where she snatched up two hand towels. She handed one to Claire, then wrapped her hair in the other one. “Put that around your hair.”

  In a trancelike state, Claire tucked her hair under the towel and turned to stare into the mirror with Kate. Two young women with similar noses and mouths looked back, but the biggest resemblance was their distinctive blue eyes. Surely Claire could see it now.

  Luke’s broad shoulders loomed in the doorway. “It’s a pretty striking resemblance. It was hard to see past your red hair, Kate. What do you think, Claire?”

  Claire reached up to touch the towel as it tried to slide. “I don’t know. People resemble other people all the time.” A dimple came in her cheek as she made a face in the mirror.

  “See that dimple?” Kate put on a fake smile. “I have one just like it.”

  “There’s one way to find out,” Luke said. “Go down to the lab and get a DNA test run on both of you.”

  In the mirror, Claire’s face reflected her doubt, but at least someone was taking Kate seriously. “And it would show if you’re a good donor match for me too.”

  “I-I guess we don’t have anything to lose.” Claire pulled the towel off her head. It dislodged strands of her updo. “But why would Harry take me in place of Claire if I was your sister? And why would your mother allow it?”

  Luke leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s what we have to find out. I say we go talk to your mother and see if she’ll tell us the truth. If anyone knows it, she does.”

  Kate sat by the window of the truck, and Claire was in the middle with her arm squeezed against Luke’s. At the sight of the blue shingle cottage, Claire pressed her hand to her stomach and closed her eyes. She had a brief recollection of two little girls playing on the wide porch and running through fields filled with flowers. Every nerve in her body vibrated with the awareness of this place, but she couldn’t move.

  Luke touched her hand, and she opened her eyes to see his worried face. “I’m all right. But, Luke, I’ve been here before.” Her voice trembled.

  “Let’s take it one step at a time.” He turned off the truck and opened his door. “Kate might need help.”

  She nodded and slid out the driver’s side door. Her legs didn’t feel strong enough to support her, but she grew stronger and more determined as she went around to help Kate out of the passenger side. Kate waved away any help and clambered out of the truck with no problem.

  Kate glanced toward the house. “You’re pale. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just shaken. This house used to be gray, didn’t it?”

  Kate’s eyes widened. “Not for a long time. I’ve seen pictures of me on the steps when I was two, and it was gray then. I’m not sure when she painted it, but it’s been blue for as long as I can remember. We can ask her.”

  Claire had never believed in time warps or other dimensions, but when she put her foot on the first stair step, she felt as though she were about to take a walk back through time. She stopped and looked to her right. “Was there a tree swing in that tree once?”

  Kate gasped and nodded. “The rope broke when I was swinging in it the summer after I graduated from high school. Uncle Paul said he’d
put up a new one, but he never did. You’re remembering things, Claire. When I said I thought you were my sister, I didn’t believe it myself, but I’m beginning to.”

  Claire shivered and rubbed at the goose bumps on her arms. “Maybe I just played here with you sometimes. It doesn’t mean I’m your sister.” She was suddenly eager to get it over with, to talk to Mary Mason and find out more. Either way, she had to know.

  Her head high and her legs strong enough to leap fences now, she marched up the steps to the door. “Should you warn her we’re out here?”

  Kate moved past her to the door and opened it. “No, it’s best we surprise her. Maybe she won’t try to lie to us.”

  The muted sound of laughter from a sitcom filtered into the entry. The scent of a blueberry candle lingered in the air. Light flickered from the screen in the dimly lit living room. Her shoes clattering on wood floors, Claire got a vague impression of pale walls as she followed Kate. Luke took her hand, and she laced her cold fingers with his.

  They paused in the doorway, and Claire took in the large, pleasant room. A flat-screen TV hung above a fireplace with painted brick. Mary stretched out on an overstuffed blue-and-white plaid sofa perpendicular to the TV. She appeared to be asleep. Several high-back chairs flanked the fireplace. Nothing in this room looked familiar, but the original furniture was likely long gone.

  Kate stepped into the room. “Mom.”

  Mary rubbed her eyes and sat up. “Kate? What are you doing home? I thought they were keeping you overnight. I left your things at the front desk.” Her slight gasp indicated she’d seen Claire and Luke standing behind her daughter. “Is something wrong?”

  Kate gestured to the chairs. “Have a seat.” She moved to sit beside her mother on the sofa. “We have some questions, Mom.”

  Claire settled into the comfortable chair to the right of the fireplace and glanced at Luke as he sat across from her. She rubbed her icy hands on her slacks. She was cold, so cold, and she trembled all the way through to her spine. She felt as though she were on a cliff about to plunge into a dark, unknown hole. If she found out she was really Rachel Mason, then what? It opened up an entirely new set of questions. Like why?

  Mary’s lowered lids shuttered the flash of fear in her eyes. “What about?”

  “My imaginary friend, Rachel.”

  Mary’s laugh held no real mirth, only uncertainty. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Kate, I thought you’d forgotten about that long ago. You were a preschooler.”

  “Look at me, Mom.” Kate leaned forward. “I was five when she went away, wasn’t I? And I think Claire is really Rachel. Dad took her to replace Claire, didn’t he?”

  Eyes wide, Mary put her hand to her mouth. Only a gasp escaped, and she shook her head.

  “Admit it, Mom. We’re starting to put two and two together.”

  Claire clasped her hands together and leaned forward. “I had a blood test done so the DNA will tell us for sure. Denying it now won’t gain you anything but a few days. I paid for a two-day turnaround. Please, tell us the truth. Am I Kate’s sister? Are you my real mother?”

  She choked over the last word. Did she even want to have a different mother? Lisa Dellamare loved her with everything in her. How did she even begin to come to grips with a world so changed? Did she even want to?

  She studied the face of the older woman leaning against the back of the sofa so hard that it looked as if she might break it. Emotions warred on Mary’s face: longing, fear, maybe even love. Claire read the truth in her face before Mary opened her mouth.

  “I’m your daughter, aren’t I?” she whispered.

  Mary covered her face with her hands and burst into sobs. “I didn’t want to do it, but he didn’t leave me any choice.”

  Luke went to stand beside Claire. His hand came down on her shoulder. She shuddered as Mary’s words struck home. Her eyes burned. She wouldn’t cry. Wasn’t this what she wanted—to know the truth?

  “My father insisted?” Her voice was hoarse, and she sought out Kate and saw tears rolling down her face as well.

  Claire had always somehow felt not whole and she’d begged her parents for a sibling. This was why. The two of them had been ripped apart. “Tell me what happened.”

  THIRTY-SIX

  Had her mother really just confessed to giving Claire away? No, her name was Rachel. Rachel. It would take some getting used to. Maybe Kate should just call her Claire for now.

  She watched as Luke grabbed a throw on the back of the chair and draped it around Claire, who was shivering with shock. He was a good man, and while he might not know it yet, he was more than halfway in love with her sister. The knowledge made Kate a little sad. She’d hoped to have her all to herself for a while.

  Her mother rose from the sofa and went to look out the window. From here, she appeared to be shaking too. And no wonder. What could have driven her to allow Harry to take her child?

  When Mary finally turned back to face them, her shoulders were squared. She licked her lips. “Of the twins, Rachel looked the most like Claire, so that’s who he took.”

  Claire’s lips parted and a gasp escaped. “Twins?”

  Kate locked gazes with her. “We’re twins?”

  “Yes. And it’s my fault Claire died so your father thought he was well within his rights to demand a replacement.”

  Kate’s lips felt numb. “I don’t understand. You murdered a child?”

  Mary shook her head violently. She shivered and bent down to straighten a photograph of the two of them that had fallen over on the stand. “It was an accident, but she was still dead.” She clasped her hands together in a gesture of entreaty. “I was jealous. There he was at the hotel with his wife and daughter. He didn’t have time to take a half-hour boat ride to see me and my girls. He hadn’t been to see us in a month. I went to the hotel and waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Claire came out of the back when the children were playing hide-and-seek. In a spur-of-the-moment decision that I’ll regret forever, I-I took her.”

  “Didn’t she scream?” Luke asked.

  “No. I told her that her mom had sent me to get her, that her dad had been in an accident. I hustled her to my car and drove off with her. I’d just thought to scare Harry a little, then I’d take her back.” Mom ran her hand through her blond hair and exhaled. “But I didn’t know she had asthma.”

  Asthma. Kate wanted to cling to some kind of hope that her mother wasn’t a murderer, but shouldn’t she have known about the asthma? Maybe she’d secretly hoped the little girl would die.

  Claire clutched the blue throw around her and stood. “Mom mentioned I used to have asthma, and she was glad I outgrew it.”

  Kate’s mother seemed lost in a trance now with her gaze fixed on a spot above the fireplace. “I stopped a few miles from the hotel, and we got out. I was going to try to make sure she wasn’t scared, but she ran off. I heard her crying and tried to find her. When I finally tracked her down, she was clutching at her neck trying to breathe. There was nothing I could do to save her.” She reached to the lower shelf of the table stand and pulled out a tissue.

  Nausea roiled in Kate’s stomach as the scene played out in her head. That poor little girl. “Why didn’t you take her to the hospital or call the sheriff?”

  Her mother shrugged. “I had you girls to raise. What would happen to you if I ended up in jail? I-I called Paul, and he took care of burying her while I went to day care to get you girls. I’m so ashamed of it, but I can’t change it.”

  “You called m-my father?” Claire asked.

  Kate’s mother shook her head. “I couldn’t face him.”

  Her face flushed and perspiring, Claire shrugged off the throw. “But if Harry didn’t know what you did, how did he get me?”

  “He figured it out later. He kept looking for Claire, always looking. He wouldn’t give up. He found someone who saw me near the hotel that night and confronted me. I was desperate to confess so it wasn’t hard to pry the truth out of me. The guilt has eate
n me up.” She finally went back to the sofa, practically falling into its embrace. The blueberry candle had gone out, and she picked up the lighter. Her hand trembled as she held it over the wick and relit it.

  Could she ever feel the same way about her mother after listening to this story? Kate took deep breaths to fight the nausea. What kind of person left a dead little girl unclaimed in the woods? It was heartless. The least she could have done was put her somewhere the body would be found.

  Luke guided Claire back to her chair and stood over her protectively. “And your brother made all the arrangements with you to take possession of Rachel, didn’t he?”

  Mary nodded. “Harry didn’t want to be seen here until his little girl was found. He wanted to make sure no one figured out the truth.”

  “Why didn’t he just turn you in once you confessed?” Luke asked.

  “His wife.” She spat the words and her mouth twisted. “She was in a bad way, and he feared finding Claire’s body would totally destroy her. I sent him current pictures since he hadn’t seen you both in a year, and he decided Rachel looked the closest to Claire. He promised me Rachel would lack for nothing and that he’d take care of me and you, Kate. But it didn’t last. The few times he came back, it was clear he couldn’t bear to even look at me. He finally stopped coming when you were ten or so.” She looked down at her hands. “Not that I can blame him for that. I can’t stand to look at myself in the mirror.” She looked up at Kate with a pleading expression. “It was an accident. You forgive me, don’t you?”

  The cramps in her stomach hit again, and Kate bent over in pain. She wanted to run from this house and never look back.

  Luke had Claire wait by the door while he checked out her suite. The pulled-back coverlet revealed crisp white sheets and a square of chocolate. The housekeeper had closed the curtains over the patio doors, but he checked to make sure no one lurked outside. After checking under the bed and in the marble bathroom, he motioned for her to come in.