home? We need to talk face-to-face, not over the phone.”
“I’m still going to Baltimore with Ty to see his brother. After that, I don’t know. I need you to answer my questions first. I’m so tired of secrets.”
“Anything,” she says. “Anything . . . just ask me.”
My voice is strangled and harsh. “Are Iris and I the same person or two separate people or what? I mean, if I was reproduced from her cells, is she my sister? My mother? Jake called her my original. God—am I even human?”
“Lily, listen to me.” Mom sounds steadier now. “You’re the same as everyone.”
“Then why did you and Dad run away from Winterhaven and change your names before I was born? Was it just to hide me from Beckett? I mean, you didn’t even let our family or your closest friends get to know me. Were you ashamed of me?”
“Ashamed? No! Your father was sure that Beckett had ulterior motives. That’s why we left,” she says, confirming Jake’s thoughts. “Adam was convinced that if I carried you to term, a healthy baby, Beckett would try to turn you into a specimen to be studied and probed, with no privacy or anonymity. We had to create a new life for ourselves. A normal life for you. We had to protect you. And that meant not even trusting our closest friends to keep the secret. You were too important to take that risk.”
I want so much to forgive her, to understand, but I’m still so confused. “Why didn’t you tell me when I was older?”
“For the same reason we left our past behind. We wanted you to feel normal. And we were afraid you wouldn’t. But you are normal, Lily,” she says firmly. “Please believe that.”
With an incredulous laugh, I say, “How is my relationship with Iris normal? Or the way I play the violin? How is it even possible when I’ve never had a lesson?”
“I can’t say why you have the connection to Iris that you do, but as for the violin . . . Ian had been dabbling in genetic engineering. He told me he might be able to transfer Iris’s abilities to you. I said I only wanted a healthy child. I didn’t care about the music. I only wanted you.”
We grow quiet, and when I finally speak again, I sound calmer than I feel. “Today is the anniversary of Iris’s death, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Eighteen years ago today,” she murmurs.
“Did you plan for us to be born on the same day, eighteen years apart?”
Sounding regretful, she says, “Yes. At the time, I was so obsessed with everything being as much the same as possible, and Beckett encouraged that. We tried to time the pregnancy, but of course babies only come when they’re ready, unless they’re induced. So, I told my doctor in Pueblo that I wanted to have you on the sixth of May, and he agreed to it because I was far enough along and he didn’t think it was risky.”
“And Dad was okay with that?”
“He thought it was completely obsessive of me, and it was,” she says with a note of self-derision. “But I’d made the appointment and I refused to change it. I worried about doing everything just right, but I should’ve listened to your father. I should have trusted that he knew what he was talking about.” After a quick pause, she says, “Please come home.”
I hear a bump against the wall in Ty’s room. “No, Mom. Not yet. Ty saw me through this, and I’m going to see him through the hard stuff ahead with his brother.”
“And after that?”
“I’ll come home and spend some time figuring out where to go from here.” My last ounce of energy drains away. I yawn. “I need a nap, Mom. I’ll call you before we get on the road again, okay?”
“Okay.” Softly, she adds, “I’m sorry, Lily.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. Not yet.
“Before you go,” she says, “if you have Jake’s number, I’d like to call him.”
“I’ll only give it to you if you promise not to get mad at him. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Mom makes the promise, so I give her the number, then put the phone aside.
Iris’s sigh soothes me as I lay my head on the pillow and curl into the fetal position. We sleep.
Exhausted from their night of driving, Jake and Ty sleep the day away, giving me some time to myself. After a two-hour nap, I try calling Wyatt a few times, but he