Sierra had come to visit Ace after waiting patiently, talking to Mike various times over the phone, and finally, two hours before visiting hours ended, she was allowed to see him.
He was lined up with the others, in tiny little stone cubicles with double bulletproof glasses, sealed, and in-between were plasma walls that they could speak through on the other side to someone.
The stone cubicles were lined with the perfect mixture of chemicals to neutralize abilities so no guests could try and sneak anything inside or out, everything was under surveillance, and if an inmate wanted to speak to a guest, they would have to pick up the receiver, which was recording, and speak to them on the other side.
Ace sat on a squeaky stool, one leg shorter than the other three, making it jiggle, in his thin white uniform, sniffling and cold. Sierra sat across from him, in a plastic blue chair, with plenty of graffiti scribbled on it in permanent marker.
She wore a baby blue sleeveless shirt, denim shorts, put her brown hair up in a bun, and wore the signature citrus perfume that Ace always loved. He could smell a little bit of it when he sat on the other side, and scooched a little closer, wanting to smell anything other than the smell of sweat, rear ends, and bologna sandwiches.
He picked up the strange black receiver, a design lost to time, and Sierra did as well, and she waved meekly from the other side.
“Are you okay,” Sierra asked.
“No, I’m in jail,” Ace replied.
“ You know what I mean,” she mumbled.
“I’m sorry. I’m kind of okay, I'm a little scared. I don’t think I’ll make it out of here.”
“You will! You’re being set up!”
A guard in the corner told her to lower her voice, and she mumbled a quick apology.
“They say they have DNA evidence, Sierra. They’re making me start to believe I did it,” Ace said.
“No. Listen. They tried to bribe me to lie, I was so pissed! When they let me go, I went into the hallway to get some water and I heard them talking about your case in Forthright’s office.”
“He’s such a tool,” Ace grumbled.
“ I know. He didn’t close the door all the way, and I heard him say that the DNA was a 75 to 87% match. Ace, that’s impossible. Who has that kind of match?”
Ace set the receiver down in his lap and thought about it. He wasn’t a geneticist, most of his knowledge about DNA from true-crime stories he would watch from late at night, or overhearing the forensics department explain their long-winded jokes to him.
He shrugged, raised the receiver back to his ear, and said he didn’t know.
“I didn’t know either, so I did some simple research online while I waited in the lobby. There are only two ways possible someone could ever have that kind of match,” Sierra said.
“They’re fudging the numbers,” he replied.
“Yes, but there’s also something else. Someone could have done something very illegal. You said you’re adopted, right?”
Ace nodded and asked what that had to do with anything.
“Ace, it’s not weird for rich people these days to design their kids before they’re born-”
“-which is legal,” Ace said sternly.
“Yes,” Sierra nodded. She nodded quickly, earrings jangling, trying not to seem rude, not wanting to imply his dead father was a criminal.
“They can only change them between the legal boundaries though,” Sierra continued. “Online, it showed that many times they re-use scripts of DNA when they design children. That may be what they did with you.”
“That's weird and gross. What is the chance someone would have designed their kid seventy-five percent like me?”
Sierra nodded faster, like a bobblehead, and she had a wild look in her eyes. She leaned in closer, and Ace was a little worried. She seemed more like a conspiracy theorist claiming she knew where the lost city of Portland was when she pressed her palm up against the barrier.
“Yeah, I thought that was super unlikely. Then I learned about twins. ”
“I don’t have one.”
“I mean-”
“Don’t imply that the maniac on television is related to me!”
The security guard in the corner didn’t stop him from shouting and instead leaned to the side, pressed a button on his walkie-talkie, and informed his superiors that he was finally becoming loose-lipped.
Unknown observers joined into the discussion without their knowledge.
“Ace, it’s the only other weird conclusion I came to,” Sierra exclaimed.
“Why is that!?”
“I know it’s wrong to believe everything on the internet, but this is the only other theory I have,” she groaned. “You might have a semi-identical twin.”
Ace squinted.
He let out soft little hehs , in quick succession, and Sierra was quite cross! She had spent hours Moogling online to find answers to her question. The internet would never lie to her!
“I’m so serious,” Sierra moaned.
Ace continued to snicker.
“I know it sounds dumb-”
“-oh it's plenty dumb alright-”
“-but it’s only because it was really uncommon before! Now it's more common!”
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“You’re either someone’s twin or not. I think you should stay off BookFace,” Ace mumbled. “They say weird stuff, like, all the bees died and were replaced by fake drones two hundred years ago, or that there used to be this place called Antarctica. They’re nuts!”
“It’s a real thing! Moogle it! Semi-identical twins were really rare before designer babies, like… only two ever recorded cases… ever… but now it's more common! They share seventy-five percent of their DNA!”
Ace leaned back in his chair to think about it but forgot he was not sitting in a chair, but a stool, fell over, and then laughter was heard from the eavesdroppers on the other end of the line.
“Who’s there,” Sierra shouted into the line. “Don’t think I won’t find you!”
There was silence, a soft click, and Ace got back up and sat on his stool, pretending as if he never fell over.
“Sierra, I’m glad you’re trying to help but all of this sounds really crazy,” Ace replied.
“No, it's not. I think you should talk to Mike about it. I will.”
“If you want to help me, why not focus on other stuff? Levi helped me get bail. It’s okay if you can’t do things like that.”
Sierra gave him the look and muttered a deep ‘ really’ under her breath. She didn’t like being compared to Levi, Ace did it more and more often lately and she never understood why, until yesterday.
It was when Mike told her why his alibi checked out.
Sierra blushed a little, played with her left earring, and asked him point-blank.
“Ace, are you having uh... relations with- ”
“Yes. Don’t call it relations , what are you, ninety,” Ace laughed.
“I don’t wanna call it what it is, maybe they’re still listening,” Sierra whispered.
“Oh, yeah... huh. ”
“Isn’t he married,” Sierra whispered.
“Aren’t we all?”
“No! Stop being like this,” Sierra giggled.
She hated that she laughed at his inappropriate jokes, she knew what he was doing was wrong, but something about the delivery, and the fact that she didn’t know Levi nor Mary Jane that well, made it easier to ignore the moral dilemma.
“Aren’t you worried he might be taking advantage of you,” Sierra asked.
“Fenton said the same thing when he came to visit earlier, and I told him no. I’m perfectly fine,” Ace replied.
This bothered Sierra more than if he wasn’t being manipulated. She, like Mary Jane, wanted to try and believe that maybe there was some reason behind everything, other than simple lust, stupidity, a mixture of both, but no, sometimes the simplest answer was the right one.
“Please don’t tell anyone, we’re trying to figure out what to do,” Ace mumbled.
“Did Levi come to visit?”
“No.”
Sierra had a smug look on her face, and whispered, it’s okay, we’ve all been tricked by men and their honeyed words.
“Shut up,” Ace mumbled.
“Ace I don’t think you should be-”
“Are you jealous?”
“No, I am not! I care for you, but I don’t want to date you anymore,” she replied. “I want you to stop...doing whatever this is.”
She gestured to him, wildly with her hand, her palm spread out as if she were trying to wash off some sort of dirt on him.
Wax on, wax off, the dirt was still there.
“I still think you’re jealous,” Ace mumbled.
“Ace, I had you before him. I could have you now if I wanted to, ” she said with complete confidence.
Ace turned three different shades, his mind wandering, the possibilities of having his cake and eating it too, and Sierra let out an audible, what is wrong with you, seeing the look on his face.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Ace admitted.
“Ace, you left me, and then you said you still wanted to be friends. Now you’re claiming I’m jealous when I’m here for you, as we promised and-”
“-I know but-”
“- but I’m just worried you’re afraid to get close to anyone . That’s why you left me and why you’re dating a guy who is already married.”
“If I was afraid to get close to anyone, then why would I be dating,” Ace sneered, with more idiotic confidence, his head inflated with hydrogen, a zeppelin taking flight.
“‘Cuz, you know, relationships like these aren’t known for working out…”
Ace’s ego crashed, the zeppelin exploded into flames, his confidence, the passengers, all died, screaming in agony, baked alive, because it was true, he had everything to lose in this scenario, and Levi could walk away unscathed, at any time.
Sierra recognized the face he made when everything was finally coming together in his mind, his brow furrowed, slightly staring off into the distance, lips scrunched, and mumbling something to himself inaudibly.
“Just be honest with me and stop doing…. this,” Sierra said, gesturing again, wiping more imaginary dirt off. “You’re stubborn and-”
“-no I’m not-”
“-you’ll do whatever you want, so when he’s done with this, let me know and I can help you.”
Sierra said all of this while scrubbing harder with her hand, causing Ace to roll his eyes and grunt in disapproval.
“I have to go, it’s almost closing time, okay,” Sierra said.
“Okay. Promise you’ll come again,” Ace replied.
“I promise. Promise not to become a hardened criminal on the inside,” she giggled.
“It’s too late. My cellmate is a super-villain. ”
“I don’t think they like using that term anymore. It’s outlaw, ” Sierra corrected him.
Ace rolled his eyes, hung up the receiver, and Sierra mouthed that she loved him, and Ace awkwardly mumbled it back.