Page 84 of Mirror Image

Her face crumpled for half a second before she rebuilt it brick by brick.

“Fine,” she said, too bright, too brittle. “Good luck with everything, then.”

But her voice betrayed her. It wasn’t anger.

It was devastation.

I clipped Walter’s leash on.

She stood, fists tight at her sides. “Where are you going?”

I didn’t turn around.

“To say goodbye to the love of my life,” I muttered, walking out before she shattered completely—and took me with her.

Chapter Thirty-One

Jenn

Sunday morning

Here in South Florida, the storms can be terrifying—ear-splitting thunder, blinding lightning, walls of rain that feel biblical.

But there’s this moment right before the sky splits open.

A thin, electric silence where the air tightens, the birds go mute, and even the insects seem to hold their breath.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Just like right here. Right now.

“That’s not our daughter!” Terry shrieks again.

Detective Rivera blinks at her, thrown completely off script. “I’m sorry—come again?”

Yeah. Welcome to the club, buddy.

Terry stands—no, erupts—to her feet, arm outstretched, finger aimed at Mary like a divine accusation.

“You’re not our Mary!”

Across the table, Doug surges up beside her, one hand pressed between her shoulder blades as if she might blow straight through the ceiling. “Terry, sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re saying. Of course that’s Mary—”

I glance at the young woman next to me.

She’s gone chalk white.

Her blue eyes look too big for her face.

“Mary . . .” I murmur.

“Don’t call her that!” Terry screams at me. “Don’t you dare call her that!”

Now everyone is on their feet—Kellogg, Julian, Rivera, even Crane—like they all know they should intervene but none of them has the faintest clue how.

Joyce, seated behind Crane in her quiet hospital-counsel role, looks horrified. I don’t blame her.

“Show me your shoulder,” Terry demands, voice shaking with rage.