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Her face grows flabbergasted at the sound of the name I just called her. "Oh, you must be mistaking me for someone else. I'm Lana."
Lana? Who the fuck is Lana? My subconscious flickers through the notes of her lifetime. No Lana. She shakes her head. You shouldn't trust her.
I agree with her. For what I know, Beverly was an astounding manipulator. She might be disguising as someone else. She might know that me and Connor are friends. She might have found out who Will is, but if this is Beverly, then how the fuck did she get scraped off that road and then escape her own grave? Has she become another Uma Thurman when she played the Bride in Kill Bill and used her hands to break through the coffin? What. Is. Going. On?
You're nuts. My subconscious says. There's no other explanation for this.
I shake my head, stirring myself out of my musing. "Okay. . ." I mutter, blanched. "How can I help you?"
She tucks a strand of her long, silky her behind her ear, making a tiny diamond come to sight and sparkle in the sunlight. "This might sound a little crazy but. . ." She pauses. "Are you their daughter?"
A frown of concern crosses my forehead. She doesn't know my parents are dead. "I was," I say, flint.
Something in her eyes changes. It's like all the light that they withheld a second ago has suddenly dissolved into oblivion.
I watch her face and arms fall. "Oh." Is all she says. "Are they. . ?"
"Dead?" I help harshly, but then something within me softens because no matter what, I do miss my parents. "Yes, they are," I say, less bluntly. "They died a few months ago."
"Oh." She scratches her head and makes a grimace that tells me she's deciding on whether she should talk to me or turn around and be gone.
"Why?" I ask quickly, still bewildered by the fact that a real living form of Beverly is standing right in front of me.
"I. . ." She scrambles to form a sentence, but then she lifts up a note that she's been holding in her hand this whole time. "I found this address a long while ago, but I wasn't sure whether I should. . . I guess I should have. . . I wasn't expecting them to be. . . dead." She gives a loud sigh. "I'm. . . I was. . ." She takes a brief second to collect herself fully, then she speaks with confidence," I'm their daughter."
My mind becomes alert. Beverly was adopted, yes. But Lana? For what I know, Lana never existed. Lana has never been mentioned before or even speculated about. She can't be real. This must be Beverly, playing her tricks on me.
This conclusion and uncertainty makes me go blanched. The fact that I don't know what's true causes my legs to feel shaky and weak, or maybe it's the fact that my parents could have had twins and never told me. In this moment, I don't know what to believe, and unfortunately, the only thing I know is or was true is the existence of Beverly.
"How?" I ask. "How did you get out of that damn coffin?"
She blinks, stupefied. "Sorry?"
"I saw your grave. You're supposed to be dead. Why are you here?"
Her face grows even more flabbergasted. "I don't understand."
"Beverly Hamilton. Your name is Beverly Hamilton, and yes, you were adopted, and yes, my parents are also your parents, which makes you my sister, but why on earth are you here and why did you fake your own death and how did you do it and what the fuck do I do with all this!?" I point at her with my hands, absolutely clueless and short of breath.
She stares at me, somewhat hurt but also determined. I watch her delve into the pocket of her teddy-lined biker jacket. It's black and white, and right now, I hate how lovely it composes with her raven hair and long to-die-for legs, clad in dark leggings.
"Here." She passes a folded envelope to me. "I hope this helps."
Tentatively, I grab it off her hand and check what's inside. It's a birth certificate and the name on it is Lana Nash. Lana. Not Beverly. But I did see the copy that Ambrose showed me. It was certified. It was real.
I give the paper back.
"This is unbelievable." I move towards the sofa and place my hands on it, letting my head rest in between my arms. "I can't believe it."
Her voice comes from behind. "Who's Beverly?"
"Not is but was." I correct, turning my attention to her. "And it seems like you once had had a twin." I look at her, exhausted. "She's dead, though. All of them are dead. Your sister. My sister. Our parents."
She peers at me, stunned. I can tell she's hurt because unlike Beverly's, her eyes are kind, almost empathetic.
"I'm sorry," she says.
"No, don't be sorry." I sigh. "You didn't make a mistake by coming here. You've got the right to know the truth."
"This isn't why I said sorry." Her eyes connect to mine, and now I'm clunky certain they are empathetic. "You were their daughter too, and by what I've gathered so far, you did know them well, hence I'm sorry. . . that you've lost them."
I give a quiet, sullen laugh. "Turns out I didn't know them at all, otherwise, I would have known about my twin siblings."
Her brows pull together. "You mentioned Beverly quite a few times. Did you know her before she. . ."
"No, I did not," I say in a flint tone. "And if I'm being honest, I'm glad I didn't."
She looks at me in a way that tells me she wants to know more but also that she doesn't want to come across as overly intrusive.
I take a deep breath. "She was unstable. She was a monster that abused, manipulated and obsessed over people, maybe even things. I don't know."
"But if you didn't know her. . ."
"I didn't, but my friend did. She raped him and threatened him and deprived him of every ounce of joy that his body was filled with. And then she proved to be a coward by jumping off the bridge and killing herself in front of another one of my friends. She fucked with everyone's head because I believe, she knew there was no help for her own, so what else did she have to lose?" I let out this rant, gleaning from the way the heaviness leaves my lungs.
Lana stares at me, again, this time for a little bit longer. "The way you've just described her. . . A manipulative monster. It seems unlikely for someone with such force to be so weak to commit a suicide."
I raise my hands in the air in an unknowing way. "Well, she did."
"Shame really," she says, simultaneously asking for permission to sit on the sofa, which in turn, I allow. "What was the reason? Why did she do it?"
I place my hand over my forehead. "At first we all thought my friend Connor was the culprit because he kissed someone else. Only later did we find out he actually ended things with her beforehand."
A tiny wrinkle of ponder appears around her lips. "See, from what I've always heard, twins are supposed to have this mutual feature. A share of character kind of thing, but it is said that one is always weaker than the other in some way, typically it is a mental matter. . . unfortunately."
"Guess you're the lucky one," I say grimly, taking a seat beside, yet not too close. For some reason I don't feel comfortable enough to offer her a cup of tea. This is way too much for my brain to process right now.
"I guess so," she says, smiling sadly. "Can I leave you my number?"
I mull this question over and over in my head for a minute or two. How would Will react if he saw the pristine reminiscence of Beverly? How would Connor react if he found out about Lana? What about Rayna? Wouldn't she feel bad for having to stick around someone who looks exactly like her boyfriend's ex?
What about me?
She's my sister. A sibling that I have ever wanted. It'd be too stupid of me to jeopardize this blessing but it'd be even more stupid of me if I put myself first again. I can't do it. I can't let my friends live through their traumas for someone I haven't even known until now.
"I'm sorry, I can't."
She seems surprised but quickly masks her reaction behind a small, awkward smile. "Not a problem." She clears her throat. "I guess it's best if I get going now."
"Yes. Yes, it is." We both get off the sofa and saunter towards the front door. "You didn't mention where you live."
"Oh, just outside of London. I know, crazy, right? The world is small but still big enough for people not to notice that two identical individuals can live not so far from each other."
I let out a quiet, agreeable laugh. "You're not wrong there."
"Anyway," she says. "If you ever change your mind as to keeping in touch, you can find me on Facebook. My surname is Sage."
"Lana Sage. Got it." I hold the door open and look in the same direction she is.
She's staring at one of the cars parked on my street. It's an Audi, a newest model if I'm being specific, dark green with a matt finish. It quickly comes to my notice that there's a person sat inside of it. It's a young man.
"Is that your boyfriend?" I ask.
She nods her head. "His name's Ollie. He drove me here."
I analyse the expression on her face. She seems sad and anxious. "Does he know the reason why you're here?"
"He does." She looks at me briefly. "We've been together for seven years now."
"Wow," I spit. "That's a very long time. He must be really lovely."
"Definitely a keeper." She gives me a smile. "Anyway, I don't intend to bother you any longer. I'm sure you've got things to get back to."
I think about the surprise I was planning for Nathan. I wanted to make the house look real nice and romantic so we can have a domesticated date, yet the other part of me yearns for getting to know my sister. My biological sister. I've always wanted one so badly.
You have to stop thinking about yourself, Davina. My subconscious reminds.
She's right. I can't put myself first my whole life. It's got me nowhere but in trouble.
"Yeah," I say sadly. "Thank you for stopping by."
Her eyes become ultimately dim, as if I've just deprived her of the last bit of hope she had. The hope for bonding.
"Can I at least get your name?" she asks.
"It's Davina," I respond, equally torn.
"What a lovely name," she says, and then, after having stood still for a long moment, she wraps her lanky arms around me. She does it really quick, though. "Well, hopefully I'll see you again," she says, and trudges out of the house. When her hand lands on the car door, she looks at me once more and gives a sullen smile, simultaneously getting into the vehicle.
I watch the way her boyfriend kisses her on the lips, the way she forces a grin, the way she keeps her cool. She doesn't want him to know how terribly wrong this visit has gone, but I've got a feeling it's only because she cares about him and knows that he would feel for her. She doesn't want to upset him.
She does the one thing that Beverly could never do. Care. Not for herself, but for others.
I close the door as the car disappears from my sight.
Have I just made a mistake?
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A few hours later the house is set, but I no longer feel in the mood for a romantic evening. I have a sister, whom I pretty much swept off my threshold after all those years of being my parents' sole child. And that sister happens to be a breathing duplicate of the girl who has ruined so many lives. How am I supposed to get over it?
The door suddenly opens, and Nathan walks inside, oddly cheerful, as if he just won a lottery.
"Hey, I'm–" he looks around the house, the interior of which, seems to undulate thanks to the wave-like shadows cast by all the candles I've lit up. "Wow. What's the occasion?"
I force a smile, trying to forget about Lana's existence. "You're my occasion," I repeat the same words he had once said to me when he entered my dorm with flowers and coffee.
His grin widens. "You're so cute." He grabs my face into his hands. "Thank you."
"It's fine," I say, but the sweet tone of my voice doesn't reflect in my eyes.
"What's wrong?" he asks, knowingly.
"It's. . ." I ponder briefly. "I'll tell you after we've had a good time. I really wouldn't like to ruin this evening."
"Are you sure it can wait? You seem quite distressed."
"I'm sure." This time my smile is genuine. "Now let's hear what you've got to say. You seem very excited about something."
Nathan's lips stretch into another grin. "Yes. Yes I am."
"Okay," I say tentatively. "What is it then?"
His body swells with excitement. He grabs my hands into his. "Remember that coffee I was supposed to meet with Will for?"
"Yeah. . ?"
"He did it, babe. He did! He signed off the house to Jeremy and Henry!"
My eyes bulge. "He did!? Tell me you're not just shitting me!"
"I'm serious. From tomorrow, the house is theirs! The ownership is fifty-fifty between Jeremy and Henry!"
"Oh my God!" I squeal, knowing how much this means not only to Nathan, but also to Jeremy, who can now fight for custody over his little brother.
"So what happens now?"
"Well, Will's already hired a lawyer who'll make sure that Henry gets to stay with Jeremy. They've got a place to live in now, and Will's paid ahead for the bills, so Henry isn't afraid anymore of standing up to his father."
I squeeze Nathan's hands harder. "That's really good news. I am so happy for them."
"Me too." He grins again, then lifts me off the floor and wraps my legs around his waist. "But you make me even happier."
A smile blossoms upon my lips, and somehow, Lana's temporarily gone from my mind. I proceed to remove Nathan's hoodie. "Show me."
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