I didn’t. But judging by what I felt for Nico alone, I already knew it was true. I just had to get to the bottom of how this could possibly be and figure out how to prove it, because if I could barely believe it, everyone else would surely think I’d lost my mind.
Then I remembered my supposed love for cooking. Mama had never once mentioned anything about that. I could barely fry an egg without getting it wrong, and Mama knew this. It was likely why she chose the safer route to put in my head about what I was really into.
I took Clarisse’s advice and decided I’d hold off on asking Mama just yet. It’d be a challenge to act normal and not furious like this whole thing made me feel. Like I hadn’t just found out something that had the potential to completely turn my life upside down. I was only glad Mama wouldn’t be home for another couple of days. I didn’t think I could play off just how incensed I’d begun to feel the more I thought about it if I spoke to her face to face.
That evening she checked in via text, and I dared not call her back. Even talking to her over the phone without blowing up might prove impossible. I lay there in bed, unable to fall asleep with everything I had going on in my head. I sat up suddenly when another alarming revelation hit me. Nico’s words were suddenly screaming in my head.
“I hate to say it. I know she’s your mom and all, but she can be pretty conniving when she wants something.
“It was kind of an underhanded thing to do, but Maddie said if your mom was going to be conniving, so could she.
“It’s funny because, after getting to know your mom a little better, I realized she’s where Maddie got her in-your-face personality.”
Only someone this skilled in lying and being deceitful could pull off something like what Mama had, if in fact I was Madeline not Maggie, which I was now convinced of. But I was just as skilled at lying and I’d learned it from her.
Then another thing came to me. Madeline was feisty, stubborn, and determined. Going a whole year sneaking around with Nico in a small town had to have been tricky, yet she managed. It’d been excellent practice for the lies I was now having to tell. It made perfect sense. No telling how much padding of my lies I’d done back then. And no telling how much Mama had padded up her lies to make sure I never knew the truth about this. After seven years, I was still determined to find the answers to the mysterious void in my heart. Thank God I’d been too stubborn and refused to just let it go and move on, as Mama had practically begged me to on more than one occasion. After spending the weekend with Nico, I knew for certain I was his and he was mine.
After much tossing and turning, my mind finally gave into exhaustion, and I knocked out at close to three in the morning.
“Did it hurt?”
He turns to look at me, and, Jesus Christ in heaven, he’s beautiful. All those times I’d seen him around town riding his bike, this was the first I was seeing him this up close. That tanned skin and dark thick lashes have no business being coupled with eyes so green. It just isn’t fair. I walked up to him, confident enough that I’d be able to hold a conversation, but suddenly I feel struck.
Nicolas stares at me as if stunned that I’d just walked up to him; then the smirk spreads across his face. “A little,” he says, glancing down at the tattoo I’d pointed at on his arm. “But it’s the best kind of pain there is. The kind that hurts so good.”
The lashes drape over those amazing eyes as he blinks in what almost feels like slow motion, then stares at me. He’s being a smart ass. I knew he would be. It’s what I’ve heard about him and his brothers. But then I suppose, with looks like theirs, they can be.
Only I’m determined not to be one of those girls, the kind he knows he so effortlessly leaves breathless and weak in the knees. It’s what his brother did to my sister and why I’m here now, to prove how fitting the Hell in our name really is. Except seeing him this up close, I now know why he’d have that effect on girls because it’s exactly how I’m feeling. I just can’t let him see it. He’d win and I’d lose and that never happens.
No matter how infuriatingly gorgeous he is.
“That thing between your legs,” I say as he stops mid drag of his cigarette and his brows jump. “It just keeps getting bigger.”
He coughs up the smoke and proceeds to have a coughing laugh attack. “What?” he finally manages to ask.
“Your motorcycle,” I say with an evil grin.
I stared at the shadows around the ceiling fan that the small light cast around it. My heart thundered in my chest as I was overwhelmed with feelings of clarity and utter joy.
“A memory,” I whispered, sitting up. “A full-blown memory.”
I was certain of it. It was a memory of the very first time I spoke to Nico, that first impression he talked about, and my heart was bursting in delight. But at the same time, I wanted more. What I felt could only be compared to those videos I’d seen online of people who’d been deaf their whole lives hearing for the first time.
As far as I was concerned, this was my first full memory that made perfect sense of my life before the accident. I’d been waiting seven long years, and I didn’t even know what to do with myself. The worst part about it was I couldn’t even share it with anyone. Even Nico would think me crazy or possibly being cruel again. It was too early to call Clarisse.
I got out of bed because the tears came en masse and I had to clean up my face. Once in the bathroom, I calmed myself, washing my face in the sink, then looked in the mirror. My face crumbled when I realized who I was really looking at. “Is this really you, Madeline?” My whispered words practically squealed.
I still couldn’t fathom how this could’ve happened. And there was still the issue of Nico saying with such conviction that he knew the difference between my sister and me. Yet he seemed to be convinced I was Maggie. How could something so unimaginable happen? If this was true, this would mean Mama had either been fooled or she knew. Everyone would think her evil.
There was no explaining it, but just as I knew there was something more—someone my heart had been desperate to remember—something in my heart was also telling me Mama wouldn’t have done something so cruel.
So how? Why?
One thing was for certain. I wouldn’t be going into work tonight. I needed to figure this out ASAP or it would drive me insane. There was no way I could concentrate on anything else until I did anyway.
After finishing cleaning my face up, I started toward the kitchen. Falling back asleep now would also be impossible. I needed coffee to get my head straight.
I stood there, impatiently waiting for my coffee to brew, with my mind racing. What to do first? Who should I call first? Should I tell Nolan? Almost immediately, I decided against that. He, too, might think I’d lost it until I had harder evidence.
First thing I did once I’d had my coffee and didn’t feel like such a zombie was get on my laptop and look up the archived articles of the accident. I’d gone through them more times that I cared to think about. But I wanted to see if maybe there was anything I’d missed, since I hadn’t been looking for anything suspicious before, only for things that might jog a memory. But nothing stood out. I read the reports about the trace of marijuana found in Madeline’s system and the arguments that it was inconclusive. Given the fact that the amount was so small, it was very unlikely she’d used that day. As if any of that mattered at that point. Two were dead, and in the very beginning, there wasn’t much hope I’d make it.
Over the years, Mama had only talked of the actual scene of the accident a few times. I never brought it up because I knew from all the articles I’d read just how horrific a scene it’d been. I was sure it was still too painful for her. She, too, had been in therapy for several years to try and get past what she saw that day. It did stand to reason that, at such a traumatic moment like that, she could’ve gotten it wrong.
After going through such a harrowing experience and just two months after burying Grandma, her mind could’ve snapped a little, especially if, after watching Grandma
wither away for so long, the breakdown had been building. I couldn’t even imagine having to identify the body of someone I loved. I’d likely take one quick look, especially because I imagine, after such a horrendous accident, her face must’ve been a swollen and bloody mess. Mama could’ve easily been mistaken.
I wanted so badly to believe that, if this happened, it’d been a horrible but innocent mistake. If it weren’t for all the other unexplainable things she blatantly lied about, I could accept that. But there were just too many.
I jumped in the shower on a mission. Once again, I was grateful my mother would be gone for a couple more days. She knew better than anyone about my work ethic. There was no way after three days off I’d be calling in sick, unless something was wrong. I had a ton of vacation and personal days I could use. This year had been so crazy, and, with Ryan working so hard to get the store going, there’d been no time for vacations this year. I’d be taking the next two days off until Mama got home. There was just no way I could concentrate on work until I figured this out.
On my way to the storage unit where I decided there had to be more answers, I called Clarisse and thankfully she answered.
“Anything new?” she asked as soon as she answered.
I smiled, glad I at least had someone who was as anxious about this as I was. “Yes, I had another memory: a longer clearer one that actually made sense.”
I reminded her about what Nico had told me about how he’d been hooked after meeting me for the first time. Then I told her about the dream. To my surprise, she didn’t laugh. After getting over the shock of it and thinking back to it, I could now laugh at it. But apparently to Clarisse, it was barely sinking in; that shit just got real. This crazy theory might be true.
“Maggie.” She paused. “Holy crap, I may not be calling you that much longer. How crazy is that?”
“I hadn’t even thought about that,” I whispered. “I’ve been Maggie all this time, and at this point, I don’t even know if I could go by another name. Everything in my life is under Margaret, including my degrees and licenses.”
“Oh, wow. This is so surreal, Maggie . . .”
She paused again but didn’t say anything this time, only we both knew why. This truly was surreal, yet the more I thought about it, the more certain I was now that this was what had been gnawing at me all these years. And of course, it would be. This was huge.
My heart beat wildly. After being around Nico less than two entire days and having that dream this morning, there was no denying how utterly in love I was with him. No one could ever come close to making me feel what I did for Nico now, especially not after that kiss. What I’d been feeling all these years—the profound pain mixed with the joy the triggers brought on—all made sense now.
I hung up with Clarisse when I got to the storage unit. There were still so many storage boxes I hadn’t gone through. I didn’t even know where to start. I’d been there for hours before I came across one marked fragile. It was at the bottom of the third pile of totes I’d worked my way through. I’d still had no luck of finding anything that got me any answers.
My heart nearly stopped when I saw the DVD’s. There were three. Each one was labeled with a Sharpie in Mama’s writing like all our other videos. One said New York. Another said Christmas tree farm. The third one said Silly girls.
Chapter 23
With my heart racing now, I thought back to all the times I’d asked Mama if there weren’t any more videos of us that I hadn’t seen. She always assured me there wasn’t. The first two might be something Madeline and I weren’t a part of, but the third one seemed to be very unlikely. Though it was possible these were videos of Mama’s youth with her sister. If we’d ever been to New York, I’m sure she would’ve mentioned it. She’d told me about all our other vacations: all the theme parks we’d visited over the years and camping in the summers. Though we stayed locally, she said we loved the idea of sleeping in a tent outdoors and we did it at least once every summer.
I knew you could turn old video cassettes into DVD’s so these being older videos of Mama and her sister was a definite possibility. But just like everything else about this life-sucking mystery, my gut said it wasn’t.
My stomach rumbled, and I realized it was past noon and I hadn’t even had breakfast. There were other things in the box, but I was suddenly anxious to get back home to watch the videos. I put everything back as I’d found them as I always did.
Stopping only to grab something from a drive-thru, I rushed home. I scarfed down my cheeseburger and fries while I set up my laptop and waited for it to fire up. As soon as it was ready, I popped open the DVD drive and slipped in the Silly Girls video.
My chest heaved as the images of Madeline and me played. We looked to be about twelve or thirteen and were giving each other makeovers with what was likely Mama’s makeup. I reminded myself this could’ve been just an oversight. Mama could’ve easily forgotten all about these videos. They were buried in one of the totes at the very bottom of one of the piles.
“Okay, close your eyes, Maddie,” I said in the video as I applied blue eye shadow on my sister.
We giggled and talked throughout, and as mundane as the video itself was, I couldn’t bring myself to speed it up for fear I’d miss a vital clue of some kind. After sitting through almost an hour of first me making Madeline over hair and all, then switching places where we both ended up looking like streetwalkers from the eighties, I’d found nothing incriminating. When it was over, I took it out and slipped in the Christmas tree farm DVD.
Immediately, I was smiling at the images of the three of us trudging through a tree farm in the snow as Mama and I had been doing every year. I watched as Madeline called out to me that she’d found the perfect one.
Mama, who was holding the camera as she always did, laughed, saying Madeline always thinks she found the perfect one. She walked over to where I’d run to inspect the tree Madeline was standing next to so proudly. It was perfect, and in the video, I agreed immediately. Mama got closer video of us posing next to it.
After documenting the finding of our tree for that year, the video jumped to Madeline and me dragging the tree up our walkway at home. “Girls, keep your scarfs and beanies on,” Mama said as we stopped and took them off. “It’s freezing out here.”
“Not when you’re trying to lug this huge thing,” Madeline said, or maybe it was me. I couldn’t tell from the angle, and we were both wearing blue.
“Maddie, I told you I’d help you girls.”
Alright, it was Madeline. She shook her head. “No, I want you to get this on tape. I’m just saying my head and neck were beginning to sweat.”
As the tree passed the camera, Madeline got up close to the camera and spoke right into the lens. “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” she sang loudly.
I laughed almost exactly like Madeline, and it was eerie, but then I’d been amazed about all the times Madeline and I finished our own sentences the first time I watched the videos.
I continued to watch as we finally got the tree inside. Once again, the video jumped ahead to where it was now up in our front room and we were decorating. Again, lots of smiles and sometimes laugh-worthy banter between all of us. While I enjoyed this one more than the long makeover one, I still had nothing.
Certain now that Mama had simply overlooked the videos, I popped it out when it was over and curiously slipped the New York one in.
The flashes went off in my head again. I sat back in my chair as visuals appeared of me—Madeline—walking through New York art museums, marveling at all the artwork on the walls. Like the latest triggers I’d had, I was better able to control the profound emotion that came with this one. But my eyes were glued to the screen.
“I remember,” I whispered as I watched Madeline and Margaret walking through the museum.
I suddenly felt a disconnect. Like I wasn’t watching a video of myself. I was watching a video of two sisters, but I was no longer certain which I was. Like with eve
rything else, I couldn’t fathom why in the world Mama would keep this from me. Was I really Madeline or did I have some sick obsession with being her that my broken brain now wanted to believe I was. But I remembered this trip. It was for me—Madeline—a promised trip to see the art museums I’d dreamed of visiting my whole life.
Maggie had selflessly agreed to the trip in lieu of a sweet sixteen birthday bash, even though it wasn’t her dream. I thought of the dream this morning. The exchange between a clearly smug and completely self-assured Nico and me and how smoothly I’d handled it. If we sisters shared everything, it was certainly an exchange a far more docile and shy sister might’ve envied. It could’ve been me, or Maggie could’ve memorized what Madeline had shared with her and, after spending almost an entire weekend with Nico, replaced Madeline in the dream. Maybe it was something she’d done often.
I watched this video, smiling most of the way, except for when it dawned on me that I still couldn’t be sure. Was I really Madeline or was I Maggie wanting desperately to trade places? Maybe it’s why I’d subconsciously learned to paint. Maybe now that Madeline was gone, I felt this was my chance to do what I’d always secretly dreamed of: be Madeline.
I hated my mind going back and forth, but it was all so much to take in. When the video was over and again I hadn’t found anything new except that Mama had kept yet another huge thing from me, I called Clarisse. This time she didn’t answer, so I texted her to call me as soon as she could.
I was too antsy to sit still. I almost called Nolan but decided, since it was still a few hours before Mama got off work, I should go back to the storage unit and examine everything else in that tote that had the videos. I’d take my chances not taking the videos back, but I made sure to hide them well in my room. I needed to go through them again There had to be a reason why they’d been kept from me.
Once back at the storage place, I went straight to the tote in question. I opened it and went through the photos in it. Once again, I was floored by our high school senior photos.