* * *

Sarah struggled to open her eyes as the last remnants of the dream drifted into oblivion. Robyn had been dosing off in the corner, and she’d caught a glimpse of Mom and Dad rushing into her hospital room.

Tears filled her eyes.

She couldn’t even get a proper look at them before she woke up. Couldn’t get a hug or see them smile. It was gone too soon.

The dream had been set at the campus hospital instead of this underground location, but it made sense that her mind would choose it. Not even her unconscious could picture her parents being in this place.

She clenched her fists, fighting back her sobs.

Yeah, it was an easier lie to craft. Stupid mind, did it think it was giving her any comfort? Did it really not know any better?

Or maybe it was her heart that was the problem, refusing to let go.

She wiped her eyes with a corner of the bedsheet as she glared at the door.

How long had it been since anyone came in?

The doctors and nurses wouldn’t tell her anything no matter how much she screamed. Eventually, she gave up. It was better than being sedated again. She was finally awake.

She refused to go back to sleep and her dreams filled with her family. Or worse, with that version of Robyn she barely recognized as her sister.

A pool of blood came to mind. Swallowing back a scream, she pressed her clenched fists over her eyes. Movement and contracting muscles caused a spike of pain right below her collarbone, where she’d been shot.

She shirked away from the memory, from the feel of blood and her finger on the trigger. And of Robyn—

Breathe!

Air went in. Air went out.

Sarah focused on the tiles on the floor, counting them in her head. After every ten or so, she lost count and had to start over. It was infuriating, but it kept her mind clear.

The tile in farthest corner was chipped. A clue that, while similar, this was not the same hospital room she’d been in before.

Everything in this place was similar, but not quite the same. The rooms, the hallways, even the people…

The look in Robyn’s eyes as she pointed a gun at her flashed through her thoughts.

She pressed her fists over her closed lids, almost missing the knock.

When she opened her eyes, Pegasus was already inside the room.

Unwilling to move, she continued to stare at the floor.

He stood at the entrance, as if trying to match her stillness. Despite his presence, there was still only silence and her own memories trying to suffocate her.

It might’ve been a few minutes before he came in and shut the door.

“Sarah?”

“Are you gonna ask me if I’m alright?”

“I’d rather not make you feel like you have to lie to me.”

The corner of her lips twitched, and she was caught off guard by her own willingness to relax. “Why are you here?”

“Athena isn’t here right now, so I thought I might be an adequate replacement.”

“I hope she’s not coming back for me, because I have no intention of getting analyzed.”

“I suspected as much. She will want to see you when she gets in. Until then, I’ll be here for you.”

Sarah looked up at him. He looked as upset as she felt. But she might be projecting.

Had she done the same with Robyn? Maybe that’s how she was fooled.

The thought of blood flashed in her mind. As if in response, her fresh wound ached.

“Do you remember talking to me after your surgery?” Pegasus asked.

Sarah shook her head. She didn’t even remember the surgery. The stitches were obvious though.

“Do you remember what happened when you got shot?”

“My sister tried to kill me.” That part was difficult to forget, but it felt like recalling a nightmare and trying to peel away the emotions to leave only the events. Though she was unsuccessful, her voice only faltered a little. “Robyn’s dead, isn’t she?”

Was it hope or denial that made her ask?

Pegasus nodded.

“Part of me was hoping it was a bad dream.” But the bad things were real.

He leaned back against the wall, deceptively calm. It reminded her of when she’d seen him at the infirmary, right after Griffon’s team came back. He’d been upset then too.

“I have to ask you about what Robyn said to you.”

“Weren’t you listening?” Sarah asked.

“To some of it, yes. We’re hoping you can help fill in some blanks.”

“We’re back to that?” There was no anger in her voice. “Me locked in this room and you asking me questions I don’t have an answer for?”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

She was ready to tell him to leave her alone unless he wanted to be the one being interrogated instead when movement caught her by surprise. She froze, trying not to look. There was movement, but there was no one in the room except them.

Sarah closed her eyes, unwilling to see anything. Not dead bodies, not herself, not blood on the walls. Was this from the anesthesia? Or maybe when she hit her head from falling in that building, before all this. Maybe she was even still bleeding out on the floor of their living room, having been shot along with her family.

She focused on her breathing and on the darkness of her closed lids, pretending it was all there was.

It took her a while to realize Pegasus was talking to her. She opened her eyes and found him offering her a hand.

“Should we take a walk?”

Sarah didn’t think that’s what he’d been saying before, but she took his hand without protest. She followed along, not caring where he was taking her. And then she didn’t have to ask. The large doors were a dead giveaway.

Pegasus held the door open for her. “Is this better?”

Sarah nodded. Entering the garden was like stepping into another world. Everything seemed more real here, more alive. It was a surprising and somewhat contradicting feeling for a place so devoid of people.

The chess board alone suggested a past human presence. Unless of course the chess pieces had a habit of moving by themselves to stave off boredom. Today, the pieces were nowhere in sight, the board now sitting empty atop the table. Maybe the pieces had finally decided to make a run for it.

She stepped out of the path, ignoring the dirt that got between her toes, and walked over to the familiar-looking tree. Sliding her fingers along the rough bark, she leaned her forehead against its sturdy frame.

Tears started flowing down her cheeks.

“I killed my sister,” she whispered.

“She wasn’t your sister.” Pegasus’ voice came from right behind her.

Sarah straightened herself, making no move to wipe her tears.

Pegasus reached out and placed a hand on the tree trunk, as if he too shared some connection with it.

“Would you like to hear a story?”

Sarah turned to look at him, but he was looking up at the leaves.

“Is it something you’re allowed to tell me?” She doubted he wanted to tell her a bedtime story.

Pegasus walked back to the nearest bench without answering. “The world isn’t exactly what you think it is. You’ve caught a glimpse of what’s behind the curtain, but once you know the full truth, there’s no going back. Are you sure you want to know?”

Sarah nodded. She was long past the point of no return.

He smiled. “I had to ask.”

Still, he said nothing more for several minutes.

Sarah moved to join him on the bench. “If you’re waiting for me to change my mind, you’ll need a coat for when hell freezes over.”

“It goes without saying, but whatever I tell you can’t ever be shared with anyone else.”

Would anyone believe her anyway? “Tell me then. If the person I shot wasn’t the real Robyn, then—”

“They’re both real. But one of them wasn’t the girl we knew. Not my friend, not your sister.”

“I’m starting to think that the reason you don’t explain things is because you’re really bad at it.”

“You asked her if she was Robyn, if she was your sister.”

Sarah focused on Pegasus, trying not to let her mind go back to that moment. “She also didn’t give me a straight answer.”

“It’s more of a philosophical question than a genetic issue.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “Are you deliberately trying to make it worse?”

“Sorry. Let me start over.”

“The beginning would be as good a choice as any.”

“Alright. From the beginning then.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Please keep an open mind.”

“I’ve thought of everything from robot replicas to cloning and alien experiments. If you told me that Robyn had an evil twin raised by goblins in the forest, I’d probably consider it at this point.” If she tried opening her mind any further, she’d be risking brain damage. “The truth can’t be any crazier.”

Pegasus met her gaze. “There’s another world out there connected to our own. A parallel world, very similar to this one, where another version of us exists.”

Sarah rubbed her arms to dispel a sudden chill. “If that’s your attempt at humor, it’s not working.”

“The girl who looked like your sister and tried to kill you was another version of Robyn, from another world.”

Sarah wondered if she was still passed out in the infirmary. Was this madness another dream disguising itself as reality?

“A parallel world? A parallel world with a parallel version of my sister?” Repeating it did not make it any more believable.

“And in her world, there would be a version of each of us with slight variations.”

“She said Scorpion was her best friend,” Sarah blurted out, her mind connecting things without waiting for her to catch up.

The thought of a parallel world was no crazier than robots or clones or goblins, but she’d never believed any of those possible.

And if the girl she shot was not her sister…

In a flash, Robyn’s dead gaze stared back at her from the past.

She focused on breathing, trying to push the screams out of her mind.

Screams? There’d been no screams. Did she scream?

Fear, familiar and cold, returned. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced the question out. “My sister’s dead, isn’t she?”

“I’m sorry.”

Sarah felt herself adrift in limbo for a second or two, and then the wave hit, crashing against her with unexpected force. She clasped her hands over her mouth, trying to hold it all in, trying not to break down.

Deep down, she’d been expecting his answer. But she found she’d been hoping, secretly even from herself, because Pegasus’ confirmation crushed something in her.

The image of Robyn lying in a pool of blood returned unbidden, her heart unable to make the distinction.

“Did the other Robyn kill her?” Anger lent some strength to her voice.

“She was involved. They got to our Robyn at the university. That’s where they made the switch. We’re searching every database we have access to for her killers, but they might not be from this world.”

“And what about the people behind it all? The ones who pull the strings?” Wasn’t that what he called the New Nation’s masters?

“We’re more or less chasing shadows, catching glimpses of their activities.”

“So you’re all useless.”

“Unfortunately.” He exhaled loudly, seemingly undisturbed by the insult. “I could lie if you want.”

She glared at him. “Truth’s fine.”

“I’m not saying we’ll give up.”

Sarah rubbed at her eyes. Her skin felt sore from all the crying and wiping. Her insides felt the same, frayed and exhausted.

“You knew something was wrong with Robyn when you tried to get us out of my room, didn’t you?”

“Remember how you said Robyn told you about the day we first met and how I’d pulled a gun on her?”

“She said it was because she’d said the wrong thing.”

“That never happened.” He picked up a wayward leaf from the ground and twirled it between two fingers. “At first, I thought you were the impostor. Sorry.”

Sarah accepted the apology. She’d been in no position to receive his trust anyway.

“I also suspected Robyn.” A faint, humorless smile, flitted across his lips. “I found that someone recently accessed the security feed from the day Robyn and I met. Do you understand what that means?”

“She didn’t know what had happened until she watched it?” Her mind once again processed the information without waiting for her to accept the circumstances.

Pegasus nodded.

“Because in her world, some other version of you probably pulled a gun on her?”

“I suspect so. Why is anybody’s guess.”

Sarah ran her hands along her hair, tugging at a knot that looked like a giant spider. Should she be screaming? Or crying?

Maybe there was something wrong with her. There had to be. Nobody just sat still when being told there was a parallel world out there, right?

But then what would be an appropriate response? It wasn’t as if screaming and crying would accomplish anything that sitting there numbly wouldn’t.

“I don’t—” She stopped short of saying that she didn’t understand. She’d watched enough movies to have a general grasp of what he was saying.

Sarah drew in a deep breath, the smell of wet leaves hinting at a rain these plants had probably never seen.

“You don’t… what?” Pegasus watched her expectantly.

“I don’t want to understand, I guess. I know I don’t want to believe it.”

“Nobody does. But if what sounds impossible made everything else make sense, was it really impossible or merely a logical conclusion?”

She gave him a pleading look. “Still… A parallel world?”

“It was probably option number four hundred and twenty in someone’s list of possibilities over at the think-tank.”

“Right after aliens, I’d imagine.” But her fading disbelief was more a stubborn refusal than actual incredulity.

He laughed, offering her the fallen leaf. “Shall I tell you that story now?”