the upstairs apartment, moving two single beds and some used furniture into the space.
Kalissa retrieved the camera from the front of their serviceable, blue pickup truck, making her way around the yard to take shots from various angles.
At the same time, Megan gathered up the last of the hand tools, stowing them in the pickup box. Then she perched herself on the tailgate, scrolling through pages on her tablet.
“Any new inquiries from the web site?” Kalissa called as she lined up for a picture of the flagstone walkway edged with pink and white peonies. The front porch and double doors filled in the background, and the sun was hitting the flowers at just the right angle.
“There are still a lot of people looking for maintenance.”
Megan and Kalissa had talked about adding a yard maintenance service to their business. It wasn’t where they wanted to focus, but if they could hire a decent crew, they might be able to make a little extra money. Their business was gradually increasing its customer base, but the margins were thin.
Kalissa clicked the final shots.
“What do you think about doing that?” she asked as she made her way back to the truck.
“Is there something you’ve neglected to tell me?” Megan was staring at the tablet screen.
Kalissa stopped in front of her. “About what?”
Megan turned the tablet so it was facing Kalissa.
Kalissa reached out to steady it.
She squinted against the bright sunshine, and a photo of a bride and groom came into focus. The man was handsome in his tux, and the woman’s dress was gorgeous, highlighted by a huge, multi-colored bouquet of roses, tulips and lavender.
“See it?” asked Megan.
“The Ferdinand Pichard roses?” They were stunning. Kalissa had never seen them in such a deep magenta.
“The bride.”
“What about the—” Then Kalissa saw it. She snapped her hand back in astonishment.
“It’s you.”
“It’s not me.” Kalissa peered at the woman’s startlingly familiar face. It obviously couldn’t be her.
“Photoshopped?” she asked.
“That’s what I thought,” said Megan. “But there are a bunch more.” She moved so they could both see the screen while she scrolled through other pictures.
“What on earth?” Kalissa took control of the tablet. “Is this a joke?” She looked at Megan. “Did you do this?”
Megan stood up for a better view. “I only found it two minutes ago.”
Kalissa stopped on a picture of the bride and groom cutting the wedding cake.
“Nice,” said Megan. “Seven tiers.”
“I obviously have money in this alternate life.” Kalissa took in each of the bride’s poses and expressions. “Too bad I can’t float us a loan.”
She struggled to figure out where her head shots could have originated, guessing this was some kind of on-line game.
“My birthday’s coming up,” she ventured, trying to imagine who, other than Megan, would spend this much time on a joke gift.
“Nice groom,” said Megan.
Kalissa took another look at the man. “He is pretty hot.”
“It says here he’s Shane Colborn.”
“Why do I know that name?”
“Colborn Aerospace,” said Megan, identifying a prominent Chicago company.
“So, it was obviously somebody from Chicago who did this.”
“I mean, this is the real guy. He owns Colborn Aerospace.”
“Uh, oh.” Now Kalissa was worried. “He’s not going to think this is funny. Can anybody see this page?”
“I got it from a Nighttime News link.”
Kalissa’s confusion grew. “The national site?”
Megan nodded.
“Why? How? We have to get them to take it down.”
“I think it’s legit.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I think you have a doppelganger.”
“That’s not a real thing.” Kalissa studied the bride’s face. “And there’s no way someone could possibly look this similar.”
It was a joke. These had to be pictures of her that somebody had taken without her knowledge.
“Maybe you were part of a cloning experiment?”
“I doubt they had human cloning when I was born.”
“I hope they still don’t have it now,” said Megan. “You know, there is one other possibility,”
Kalissa waited a moment. But when Megan didn’t finish, she glanced up. “What?”
“You have an identical twin,” said Megan.
Kalissa shook her head.
“You were adopted.”
“I was nearly a year old when I was adopted. My mother would have known if I had a twin sister. She would have said something.”
Gilda Smith hadn’t been the most organized person in the world. She was fond of sherry, and her memory was never the greatest. But you didn’t forget that your adopted daughter had a twin sister.
Megan looked pointedly down at the screen. “Maybe they split you up.”
“Who would do that? And why keep it a secret?”
“It says she’s Darci Rivers. Well, Darci Colborn now.”
“My birth name was Thorp.”
“And your legal name is Smith. Whoever adopted this Darci would have changed hers too.”
“It can’t be,” said Kalissa, fighting the logic of Megan’s assumption. “It just can’t.”
Megan shrugged her shoulders, clearly resting her case.
As Kalissa took in every inch of the woman’s face, her chest tightened, and a strange buzzing sensation made its way along her limbs. She struggled to wrap her head around the information.
The resemblance
