blood trickled from his nostrils.
Czerny emerged from the elevator and made a waddling dash toward the action. He caught Amanda and her young companions at the edge of the hallway.
“Take the kids back to the parlor. It’ll be all right.”
“Can I help?” Amanda asked.
“Thank you, but we’ve got this. Return to the parlor, please.”
The noisy mob disappeared down the corridor, leaving the guests to themselves. Mia eyed the small splatter of blood by the front door.
“God. What do you think happened to that guy?”
“I dunno,” David said. “I was more distracted by the cot beneath him. I can’t figure out what was holding it up.”
“Do you think he’ll be all right, Amanda?”
The widow didn’t respond. She was too busy staring in wide-eyed disbelief at the listless young woman who lingered outside. Her face was obscured by tousled black hair. Her T-shirt and jeans were scuffed with dirt. Her left arm was wrapped in a sling.
The woman pushed through the glass doors and hobbled toward the reception desk in a dreamy daze. She took no notice of the three people watching her.
Mia held Amanda’s arm. “Are you okay?”
She was not. From the moment the newest guest entered her view, Amanda’s brain had fallen into hot conflict. She was convinced she was crazy and convinced that she wasn’t. Convinced that the person in front of her was a stranger, and convinced that she was anything but.
Her mouth quivered as she struggled to find a voice.
“Hannah?”
The woman turned to look, brushing the messy strands of hair from her face. There was no denying it now. One world over and thirty feet apart, the Great Sisters Given were reunited again.
SEVEN
No one ever guessed that the two women were siblings. One was a tall and skinny redhead with piercing green eyes. The other was a short and curvy brunette with the wide brown stare of a deer. They had different noses, different jaws, different voices, different walks. The only visible trait they shared was an unwavering intensity. No one ever accused the daughters of Robert and Melanie Given of being too relaxed, though Hannah came close to earning that distinction now. While Amanda froze in white-faced shock, the actress exhaled with breezy relief, as if the sisters had lost and found each other at the mall.
“Oh, hey. There you are.”
Amanda made a slow trek toward Hannah, her lips tangled on a hundred burning questions. All she could manage were a few stammering
wuh
s.
“Martin left me in the van,” said Hannah. “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to stay there or . . .” She threw her dizzy gaze around the lobby. “What is this place? It looks like a Hilton.”
Hannah suddenly noticed David and Mia watching her with puzzled interest. “Kids in robes. Weird. I hope this isn’t a cult. Hey, has Zack arrived yet? Skinny guy? Carries a sketchbook? I left him back at the marina. He has my stuff.”
Amanda gripped Hannah’s chin and turned her face left and right. She thought about the otherwordly penny in her pocket and wondered now if this woman was a similar entity, an ersatz version of the old familiar thing.
Hannah crunched her brow. “Okay, Amanda, you’re freaking me out. Can you please say something?”
“I-I’m sorry. I just . . . I can’t believe I’m looking at you. I mean I can’t believe it’s you.”
“It’s me.”
“Do you remember seeing me last night?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Do you remember where we were? What we talked about?”
Hannah slit her eyes in suspicion. “What exactly are you testing me for?”
“Your pupils are dilated and you’re unfocused. You’re talking about people named Martin and Zack. I just need to see you’re in there. I need to know you’re the Hannah I know.”
The actress sighed with exasperation. If there was ever any doubt that this was her very own Amanda, she’d just erased it with her singular brand of well-meaning condescension.
“I saw you at the
Czerny emerged from the elevator and made a waddling dash toward the action. He caught Amanda and her young companions at the edge of the hallway.
“Take the kids back to the parlor. It’ll be all right.”
“Can I help?” Amanda asked.
“Thank you, but we’ve got this. Return to the parlor, please.”
The noisy mob disappeared down the corridor, leaving the guests to themselves. Mia eyed the small splatter of blood by the front door.
“God. What do you think happened to that guy?”
“I dunno,” David said. “I was more distracted by the cot beneath him. I can’t figure out what was holding it up.”
“Do you think he’ll be all right, Amanda?”
The widow didn’t respond. She was too busy staring in wide-eyed disbelief at the listless young woman who lingered outside. Her face was obscured by tousled black hair. Her T-shirt and jeans were scuffed with dirt. Her left arm was wrapped in a sling.
The woman pushed through the glass doors and hobbled toward the reception desk in a dreamy daze. She took no notice of the three people watching her.
Mia held Amanda’s arm. “Are you okay?”
She was not. From the moment the newest guest entered her view, Amanda’s brain had fallen into hot conflict. She was convinced she was crazy and convinced that she wasn’t. Convinced that the person in front of her was a stranger, and convinced that she was anything but.
Her mouth quivered as she struggled to find a voice.
“Hannah?”
The woman turned to look, brushing the messy strands of hair from her face. There was no denying it now. One world over and thirty feet apart, the Great Sisters Given were reunited again.
SEVEN
No one ever guessed that the two women were siblings. One was a tall and skinny redhead with piercing green eyes. The other was a short and curvy brunette with the wide brown stare of a deer. They had different noses, different jaws, different voices, different walks. The only visible trait they shared was an unwavering intensity. No one ever accused the daughters of Robert and Melanie Given of being too relaxed, though Hannah came close to earning that distinction now. While Amanda froze in white-faced shock, the actress exhaled with breezy relief, as if the sisters had lost and found each other at the mall.
“Oh, hey. There you are.”
Amanda made a slow trek toward Hannah, her lips tangled on a hundred burning questions. All she could manage were a few stammering
wuh
s.
“Martin left me in the van,” said Hannah. “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to stay there or . . .” She threw her dizzy gaze around the lobby. “What is this place? It looks like a Hilton.”
Hannah suddenly noticed David and Mia watching her with puzzled interest. “Kids in robes. Weird. I hope this isn’t a cult. Hey, has Zack arrived yet? Skinny guy? Carries a sketchbook? I left him back at the marina. He has my stuff.”
Amanda gripped Hannah’s chin and turned her face left and right. She thought about the otherwordly penny in her pocket and wondered now if this woman was a similar entity, an ersatz version of the old familiar thing.
Hannah crunched her brow. “Okay, Amanda, you’re freaking me out. Can you please say something?”
“I-I’m sorry. I just . . . I can’t believe I’m looking at you. I mean I can’t believe it’s you.”
“It’s me.”
“Do you remember seeing me last night?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Do you remember where we were? What we talked about?”
Hannah slit her eyes in suspicion. “What exactly are you testing me for?”
“Your pupils are dilated and you’re unfocused. You’re talking about people named Martin and Zack. I just need to see you’re in there. I need to know you’re the Hannah I know.”
The actress sighed with exasperation. If there was ever any doubt that this was her very own Amanda, she’d just erased it with her singular brand of well-meaning condescension.
“I saw you at the
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