Girl In The Mirror (Looking Glass Book 1) by Elizabeth Reyes
My inner alarm told me I shouldn’t lie this time. No matter how good I’d gotten at it, Nico would know, which alarmed me further. So, I spit out the answer as close to the truth as possible without saying too much.
“Ryan pulls me back from getting any closer to you in every dream. I think I’m haunted by the way you looked at me and everything I was hit with that day. The sadness in your eyes, being so shocked about finding out Madeline had such a serious boyfriend when Mama never mentioned it, all of it had been a blow to my gut. In my dream, I think I want to console you, but Ryan pulls me away each time and I cry.”
That was as close to the truth as he was getting—for now. My emotions were a frantic contradiction butting heads as my stomach knotted up, and my heart skipped each time our eyes locked. Now, he was working his jaw as I’d seen him do earlier when he spoke of Madeline with other guys.
“Are you still keeping in touch with Ryan?”
I nodded, feeling stupid, but really what he’d done wasn’t horribly bad. He seemed utterly genuine about how much he regretted doing what he had and was going above and beyond to prove he wanted to change. While I had zero intention of ever rekindling any kind of romantic relationship with Ryan, I didn’t see the harm in staying in touch. It wasn’t like we even spoke that often.
“Does he know about Nolan? Is that why you think he might be pulling you away in the dream?”
I’d already started shaking my head before he even finished. “There’s only one person who even knows my mother kept so much from me about you and your brothers. That’s my friend Clarisse, the one who drove up with me the day I went to see you.”
“What else do you dream about?”
I swallowed hard, desperately trying to summon up the skilled liar I’d become lately. But somehow, I knew with him I just couldn’t. “It’s always a different version of that same dream.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “You said not all were nightmares?”
“They’re not,” I agreed with conviction. “Some are just a replay of that day. They’re not all as emotional.
With his eyes still locked onto mine, it was hard to breathe easy. But I couldn’t let on that, yes, I, too, was feeling it. The uncertainty. The suspicion of how much more these triggers, flashes, and dreams had to do with than just lost memories. That us being here this weekend and out by the road to the pier at the same time was not just some crazy coincidence. That what I’d felt all these years in my heart was the same thing he feels when he looks at me the way his eyes were gazing at me now. I’d purposely avoided mentioning the painting was one Mama said I’d painted and refrained from asking if he knew whether I’d painted it or not. Nolan may not have been sure, but I was certain Nico would know, and if I didn’t, it’d raise too many questions—questions I had no way of answering, not without talking to Mama first.
“Do you like M&M’s, Maggie?”
My heart nearly stopped at the loaded and telling question. “No,” I said then shook my head. “I mean, yeah, what’s not to like? I like them as much as any other candy. But I’ve never had such an affinity for them the way my sister obviously did.”
His eyes fell to my lips then my neck, and he nodded, as the evanescence of his hardened demeanor played out right before my eyes. The pain, that had for once disappeared from his eyes, was back. My heart thudded because I realized that I’d been right. For a moment there, he, too, had begun to consider the unimaginable.
I sighed softly, feeling a little ashamed because last night I’d begun to think that maybe Mama’s hatred for Nico and blatant disregard for Madeline’s true love had been her cruel reason for separating them when she’d gotten the chance. But I didn’t know what to think now. Nico just reaffirmed Mama had known about them for almost a year, and he said she’d even accepted it, thanked him even for being so good to Madeline. Regardless of his hardened appearance, there was no denying how much he adored my sister. There was no way Mama could not have seen that too. In my heart of hearts, I knew Mama couldn’t possibly be so cruel.
My only other hope was that she’d been as mistaken as everyone else. Though that seemed even more farfetched. There was still so much I needed to talk to Nico about, and I knew my time with him was limited.
“I wonder if I would’ve had a better chance of remembering if Mama hadn’t got transferred and we’d stayed in Huntsville,” I said, turning to Nico. “I might’ve—”
“Transferred?” Nico asked before I could finish.
“Yeah,” I said, and even before the words left my mouth, I felt naïve. “We were in the process of moving when the accident happened.” Nico shook his head as if even he knew the truth was just now hitting me. “My mom had taken enough time off work to be with me in the hospital. It’s why we left as soon as I was released.”
I don’t even know why I attempted to explain it. Maybe so I wouldn’t feel so stupid. I already knew our leaving town on the down low was suspicious. Mama had lied about so many other things, and even the Slovers, who we’d apparently been so close to, hadn’t known about our plans to leave.
“Maddie never would’ve left Huntsville unless it was with me,” Nico said as if that were a fact he knew without a shred of doubt. “She never once mentioned moving, and your mom . . .” His eyes narrowed as if suddenly he had questions himself. “She worked as an accountant for the feed store in town. It’s family-owned. There are no other stores to transfer to. Where does she work now?”
Even though this shouldn’t surprise me, it left me breathless. I shook my head, still unwilling to believe. Maybe transfer had been the wrong word. Maybe she’d just landed a better job out of town. Only it’s not what she’d said. “She’s an accountant for Wells Fargo.”
The memory of her pointing out the small branch in town assaulted me. That’s where I used to work. Maybe she’d had more than one job and Nico didn’t know it. That was possible, right? “She said she worked at the branch in town.”
Nico shook his head, as an undeniable sadness veiled his eyes again. “Not that I ever knew of, and Maddie told me everything.”
“Maybe she—”
“She took you away from Huntsville because she didn’t want you here.” Nico’s words held the same certainty as when he said Madeline would’ve never left Huntsville without him. “She wanted you far away from the person she blamed for Maddie’s death.”
That could be the reason behind Mama’s lies, but my gut said otherwise. Only it didn’t add up. If Mama had really come around, if she’d really been on board with Madeline’s relationship with Nico, why would she speak so ill of him and his brothers?
Clearly, the thought that anyone would think him responsible for Madeline’s death weighed heavily on Nico. I was about to change the subject when he beat me to it.
“Is Ryan the first guy you’ve connected with since the accident?”
His use of the word connected made my breath hitch. Was it just a coincidence that he’d worded it that way? Somehow it compelled me to make something clear.
“For years, I hadn’t been able to make a connection with anyone,” I said as I began walking again. “That void I told you about earlier has haunted me since the very beginning. Like something was missing. I felt it with every guy I met. But I’d since decided to give into the very thing you suggested: that the emptiness must just be my other half—Madeline—and it’ll always be there. When I met Ryan, I was determined to give him a chance, despite still feeling like something was missing. At first, he seemed perfect in every other way, even if, in hindsight, my moving in with him was more of a convenience. I was always over at his place anyway. But the emptiness,” I said, staring ahead because I couldn’t look him in the eyes when I said it. “That feeling that something was missing still lingered. I’d just accepted it always would.”
Nico didn’t say anything. Strangely, I hadn’t expected him to. I was just glad I’d made that last part clear. We walked silently the rest of the way to his motorcycle, until Nico said it was pro
By the time we reached the auto-detailing place, the heaviness in my chest was beginning to suffocate me. We walked in and were told my car was ready and had sustained no damage that they’d seen from the mud.
I barely said a word until Nico pulled out his wallet. “Don’t you dare,” I snapped, reaching into my purse.
“Why the hell not?” he asked, pulling out his card. “I’m the one who insisted on getting it detailed.”
“Because it’s my car. That’s why.” I was angrier than I should be, but I knew why I was feeling so emotional all of a sudden.
“Let me pay for part of—”
“No!”
I handed my card to the guy, who shrugged with a smile and ran it through the machine. Nico stood there silently until I was done paying; then we walked outside.
“I guess this is good-bye—”
“Please, don’t say that.” I surprised us both when my voice broke, but I went on anyway, staring into his beautiful but stunned eyes. “I still have so many questions. I’m still so confused about so many things, and I know I’m gonna need to talk to you again. Please, don’t ignore my calls. Please, don’t say good-bye forever.”
I knew I sounded too desperate for someone who just wanted to talk to him again to ask more questions. I knew it bordered on pathetic, given that I’d already admitted to feeling like he and I’d had some kind of connection, but I really was desperate. My heart couldn’t even begin to accept that this might be good-bye forever.
He stared at me for a moment before pulling his phone out. “What’s your number?”
Beyond relieved, I rattled it off, and he sent me a blank text. “If you have questions, text me. It’ll probably be easier for me.”
Nico smiled at me poignantly when I nodded, and then he did something that surprised me. He pulled me to him and hugged me.
Hard.
I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his chest, holding him like I never wanted to let go. To my utter delight, he did the same to me, even kissed the top of my head. “You have no idea what seeing you again has done to me, Maggie,” he whispered against my ear. “My heart can hardly take it because, every time I look into your eyes, I see her.”
He pulled away and then did just that, gazed at me with those adoring eyes. But he wasn’t just gazing; he was searching, as if suddenly he was wondering the same thing I was. What was that pull between us? Why the hell did that kiss last night feel like so much more than us just giving into the moment? I already thought I knew. I just needed to be sure, and as soon as I was, he’d know it too.
Finally, he took a deep breath, still looking very unsure of something. “Not forever, but good-bye,” he said as he wavered for a second but then turned and climbed onto his bike.
Much more calmly than before, I thanked him for everything. But the feelings of adoration for him were all consuming as I stood there and watched him drive away. When he was finally out of sight, I got in my car and headed back to the hotel to get my carryon. I checked in with Mama, who thankfully didn’t answer because I wasn’t sure if I could hold back from going off on her at this point. I was relieved she wouldn’t be home for a few days because I still needed time to let everything I learned this weekend simmer. Time to decide exactly how to deal with all of it.
I had one more stop to make before I left town. I prayed Shelby’s mama might have more answers for me. Maybe she could shed some light on all this. I drove to the address I punched into my phone, my heart pounding a little harder the closer I got.
After knocking and waiting for several minutes, it was clear Shelby’s mama wasn’t home. Disappointed that I wouldn’t get to see her, because more than ever I needed to talk to her, I decided to leave a note in her mailbox. I wasn’t even sure what to write, since saying I’d been by to visit would seem so odd after nearly seven years of nothing. So, I just said there was a lot I was hoping I could discuss with her and asked that she please give me a call.
Knowing I’d go crazy thinking about everything I’d learned on the long trip home, I called Clarisse so we could discuss my weekend in Huntsville.
“I was just thinking about you,” she said when she answered. “How’d it go?”
I told her about the Stovers, and like me, she thought that was weird. Then I allowed myself to say out loud what up until then had felt so completely insane. But I had to let it out.
“Clarisse, I’m beginning to wonder if maybe there wasn’t a huge mistake made the day of the accident.”
“What kind of mistake?”
“Maybe . . .” I paused because the words were stuck along with the knot at my throat suffocating me. Then I managed to squeak the words out. “Maybe they pronounced the wrong sister dead.”
Chapter 22
I expected a big reaction from Clarisse. Silence wasn’t it. But then I suppose, for someone so dramatic as her, the silence was big. Since she was quiet for a few long moments and I was busy trying to compose myself after hearing those words spoken aloud, there was dead air for a little longer until she finally spoke.
“Okay, I’m going to admit the thought had crossed my mind a few times,” she said, only furthering my anxiety because I knew it wasn’t so crazy anymore if someone else had actually considered it too. “I mean, when you told me about your mom being so adamant about nothing having happened between your sister and Nicolas, it did cross my mind that maybe, just maybe, it’d been her way of separating them. But the thought seemed so ludicrous. You really think your mom would be that evil?”
“No, I don’t, not at all,” I said, finally feeling composed enough to speak. “And here’s the most confusing thing of all. For as much as Mama made it sound like she disapproved of Nico and his brothers when I first asked her about him, he confirmed this weekend that she was against it in the beginning but for almost a year before the accident she’d come around and she was all for the relationship.”
“Nico? You saw him this weekend?”
“Oh, my God, yes,” I said, feeling choked up all over. “And after spending time with him, there’s no doubt in my mind I’m desperately in love with him. But he’s adamant that nothing ever happened between us.”
I was so incredibly relieved that she was off and had time to talk. We were on the phone almost my entire ride home. I told her everything, including the part that most confused me.
“The Slovers said my grandmother died a slow agonizing death. That she died of diabetes.”
“So?”
“Mama told me she died abruptly of cancer.”
“What?”
“Exactly!”
I told her everything Mama had told me about my dead grandparents and the melanoma. Clarisse was uncharacteristically quiet again then finally spoke. “I’m sitting here, shaking my head, Maggie. This is all so bizarre.”
“I know! It’s all I’ve been doing all weekend, shaking my head, trying to make sense of it all.”
“But why would your mom lie about that? Oh, I know!” she said suddenly. “Maybe one was your paternal grandma or her stepmom who she was real close to.”
“She’s never mentioned a stepmom or a paternal one for that matter.”
We finally hung up after much debating and dissecting when I was just a half hour from getting home. I still wasn’t sure how I’d go about it. All I knew was I had to confront Mama now. No more guessing. Clarisse agreed I should just ask her. She’d lied about a hell of a lot more than I did about this weekend. There was no way she could be mad, and I had every right to need answers.
I had to pull over because I was running on fumes and hadn’t even noticed. I was standing there pumping gas, lost in thought when my phone rang. It was Clarisse again.
“Hey.” I glanced at the display on the gas pump as I answered.
“Hey,” Clarisse said. “I was just thinking. Maybe you shouldn’t tell your mo
Halfway through everything Clarisse had just said, something else came to me that I’d forgotten to mention, and it had my heart beating like crazy. “Artistic talent.”
“What?”
“Mama never once mentioned to me that Madeline was the artistic one.” The pump stopped, and I pulled it out and closed the gas nozzle on my car, even as my heart continued to pummel. “She commented once that our dad must’ve passed on his artistic gene because she never had an artistic bone in her body and both Madeline and I were a bit artsy. That Madeline enjoyed drawing. Only I’ve yet to see a single work of art Madeline did, and Nolan said she was always painting. When I asked if I painted, he said I’d never mentioned it. Nico mentioned Madeline painting this weekend too. That painting my mom said I painted . . . Nico said Madeline painted it, not me.”
I felt so stupid now I never even questioned it. I went to nursing school, but I’d never felt a passion for it, not like I did for art. And according to Mama, I’d always aspired to be a nurse. I stopped and clutched my chest. “Do I come across as shy and reserved?”
“Hell no.” She laughed.
I told her what Nico had said when I snapped at the waitress at the cafe yesterday. “I always assumed Madeline was just so outgoing that in comparison I’d been dubbed the shy one. Oh, my God, how had I never questioned it?”
“Because you had no reason to.” Clarisse said without missing a beat. “You were going by what your mother, who you love and trust, told you. Up until this weekend, it’d be too surreal to even consider the possibility. But you still have nothing solid that can really prove this.”