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[Cordelia] “I thought he would be here by now,” my mother’s heels make a gentle clicking noise as she walks back and forth, “Maybe he doesn’t care for her as much as we had hoped.” “No, he’ll be here,” my father chimes in. “Atlas is loyal. It won’t matter that they are divorced. He’ll be eager to reconcile…” “If he doesn’t get here soon, she’s going to figure out something is going on,” My mother hisses. “What if she finds out that you’re pretending…” “Meghan, you’re worrying for nothing,” my father’s gravely voice assures her. “The department head owes me. None of his staff will say anything against us. Anyone who speaks out of turn will lose their position.” My father is lying to me. Not only that, but Dr. Davis, a man who didn’t even know me, put his career on the line to tell me the truth. I don’t know what I did to deserve his kindness, but I am grateful he was here for me today. Without him, I don’t think I would have the courage to do what I’m about to do. I push open th
[Atlas] “Atlas?” Sydney is staring at me, her fork halfway between her plate and her mouth. “Did you hear what I just said?” I take a moment to readjust my thoughts. I had been thinking about this morning again, and the look on Cordelia’s face right before she signed those papers. “I’m sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” She smiles brightly, instantly forgiving me. “Of course. I was just trying to invite you over to my family’s LA home this weekend. My parents will be flying back home soon, and they wanted to have an “American-style barbeque” before heading back to Toronto.” She then pauses, taking a moment to survey my outfit before saying. “Do you have cowboy boots and a hat?” “Why?” I wonder where this is going. Surely her parents don’t think that all Americans eat barbeque while wearing cowboy attire. “Oh, it’s just that it’s a costume party. The theme is Wild Wild West. I thought I’d go as a…Saloon Girl,” she blushes. “I was hoping you’d come with me and be the sheriff or may
[Cordelia] “You still have two weeks until the show, Cordy! Make sure you get some fresh air today!” “No promises!” I call after Tilly as she leaves for the office. I am so grateful to have a friend like Mathilda. Not only is she giving me a place to work and live, but she cares enough about me to make sure that I do basic things to take care of myself–like exercise and eat. But I cannot stop working, not until I finish these patterns. I have two weeks to make this line perfect before presenting it at the LA Market and Fashion Expo. There will be vendors from all over the world present and a show like this can launch a career. Entering my collection into this show was expensive, eating up most of what remained of my limited savings. Pulling a pencil from behind my ear, I lean forward and begin sketching out a shape when I hear my phone ring with a tone I haven’t heard in several weeks. It’s my mysterious anonymous unlisted friend. The message contains a series of imag
Tomorrow is still a day away, however, and I doubt I’ll see Jude before then. We both have busy days ahead of us. Looking over at the pile of work waiting for me, I sigh, wishing I had taken him up on his invitation for coffee. My stomach starts to grumble at the thought of coffee and a large pastry. I’ve been so busy that I forgot to eat. Again. So I make a small brunch of eggs and toast. I don’t reel like making a whole pot of coffee, so I pour myself a glass of orange juice before I sit down to start working again. I’m about two bites in before I need to rush to the toilet. Everything I just ate, along with everything still in my stomach from the night before comes out in a rush. I’ve never felt so sick before in my life. Even after throwing up, there is a pervasive feeling of nausea that lasts the rest of the morning. Just the smell of coffee is enough to make me swallow down bile. Later in the day, I try again to eat a banana. I don’t even finish the first bite before I
[Cordelia] As I cry, I think about all of the terrible things Atlas will say about me when he finds out. It isn’t hard to imagine his voice belittling me, scolding me for being so irresponsible. I already know that someone like me shouldn’t be a mother. What do I have to offer this child other than my imperfect self? I have no job and no family I can depend on. He’ll assume I am trying to trap or use the baby as some kind of leverage to get him to do what I want him to do. I sit up a little straighter. I don’t have time for this. I need to finish this line and be the very best I can be because the only way I’ll be able to raise this little one on my own is to make myself into a success. We don’t need Atlas Steele. Just because this baby is a part of Atlas, doesn’t mean that Atlas needs to be a part of my life. I will give this small wonder all the love he or she needs. I spend the next several hours working non-stop on my prototypes. By the time Tilly comes home from work, I
[Cordelia] “Cordy, what’s wrong?” I look up to see Tilly watching me. Seeing her look of concern I almost start to cry. “Nothing,” I lie. “I just… I just saw Atlas is here with…her.” I don’t need to tell Tilly who. She and I have had enough late-night cry sessions to know exactly why seeing them together might make me upset. “If you want, we can leave,” Tilly suggests, picking up her coat. “I don’t want you to suffer…” “No,” I insist, wiping my tears away. “See, I’m fine. In fact, I think I’m going to go over there and say hi.” I try to appear pleasant, but inside I am angry, sad, and frustrated. I am feeling it all at once. It's worse than going through puberty. I’d almost rather be a confused teenager again. Maybe if I go over there, be direct, and stop hiding in the corner, I can feel more like a grown-up in control of her life. “Atlas,” I smile as brightly as I can manage while on the verge of tears. “And Sydney! I just saw you two over here and wanted to say congratul
[Cordelia] I am reclining on a chaise lounge on our balcony. Nothing is broken or sprained, but every muscle on the right side of my body feels like it has been sent through a blender. The deep purple bruise tinged on the edges with green covers the entire right side of my body, the worst of which is my hip where the car hit me. “What are you up to…” Tilly leans over my shoulder. I put a finger to my lips begging her to keep quiet as I point down at the street. “Well hello there Dr. Smexy…” Jude slowly pulls off his wet t-shirt, the edges sticking to his shining bronze flesh, accentuating every curve of his spectacular pectorals. “Shhhh!!!” I hush her loudly. Jude hasn’t noticed me sitting up here watching yet and I don’t want her excited shrieks to catch his eye. I hadn’t intended to be a peeping tom, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away once he started scrubbing his car with soapy rags looking so…wow. I might be divorced, but I’m not dead. “Jesus Christ Almighty. Tell me agai
[Cordelia] Tilly looks up and drops her keys, her mouth open slightly. Blinking she closes her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize that you were…” She looks at his hand on my thigh. “Having an examination…” “Oh, yeah, um…” I reach down to pull up my pants, wincing. “I think we are done.” Tilly shakes her head, amused by my embarrassment. “No need to rush, but if you could call the repairman that would be great.” She picks up her keys and heads out the door. As I wave goodbye, I grab my phone and dial the number. When I finally get through to make an appointment, the earliest the repair man can get here is next Thursday after 3 pm. “Agh, that’s not going to work,” I set my phone down after writing the appointment on the wall calendar. Jude looks concerned so I explain. “I need to get these clothes cleaned and pressed so that they’ll be ready for the show ” I point to the pile of clothing lying in a heap in a corner of the room. “I guess I’ll have to take it all to the lau
[Cordelia] Today is our 20th second anniversary. We've lost count of the first one, forgetting it entirely as a moment of sadness. Instead, we honor the day when we took our vows and meant them, 7 years later in Napa. Usually, we leave Los Angeles and take the week for just the two of us. Even after two decades, we haven't lost our hunger for one another and I look forward to our time away where we can just be two people together and in love. But this year, my husband is feeling a bit nostalgic. This is why I'm in the lobby of the Steele Hotel and Resort, recreating a memory I wish I could forget. When he sent me the cryptic text this afternoon, I confess I was more than a little bit confused. Why, of all places, would he want me to meet him there? At least this time I'm not wearing a hoodie with a dress tucked into a pair of loose sweats. And while my face is covered with large sunglasses, it's more to protect my identity and not draw too much attention. I am far too recogniza
[Clark] "Come on. Dad!" My daughters pull me along by my arms. I've never been able to deny them anything they wanted but tonight they are asking too much. "It's only a blind date!" "Girls," I admonish, "What have I said, I'm not ready to let someone new into my heart. Your mother was more than enough for me." Cassie stares up at me with her starlight eyes, as deep and black as her mother's, and doesn't relent. "You promised you'd let us have anything we want for our birthday. Grandma helped us pick her out. You have to try, Dad. For us!" "Grandma Suzanna or Grandma Jenny?" I grump, "Who do I need to send a thank you note." "Both!" the girls giggle. "You owe us, Dad," Cassie counters. Her red curls bounce as she stomps her foot. "Do you know how weird it is to look on a DATING AP for potential girlfriends for our father? It's so gross. You should be grateful" "Yeah," Maddie chimes in, swinging her hair over her shoulder as she twists her lips just like Tilly used to, her hand
[Jude]If the universe were fair, I wouldn't have lived to see today. If karma took her toll, I wouldn't be friends with Clark and Atlas Steele, our children growing up side by side. Once the shadow of Magnus was lifted from our shoulders, and Angelica and I were finally able to go about our lives the way we always should have been able to do, It became easier to make good with my life. Angelica and I were married shortly after Mathilda's funeral. It was a small ceremony on the family medical boat, just before the two of us set sail with our daughters, Melanie and Veronica. When the DNA showed that they were indeed my children, and NOT Magnus', that his experiment had never stuck, it was easy to adopt them. In their mind, Angelica is their mother. When they are old enough, we'll tell them the truth about Aunt Sydney, but for now, we are sparing them the burden of her insanity.And we give them love, all the love of a couple who has always wanted children of their own.Angelica, it tu
[Cordelia]15 hours later I place my feet back in LA for the first time in 6 months. We have been gone for so long that I had forgotten how loud it is, or how oppressively hot it can be in summer. Clark met us at the runway alone, the girls with their grandparents. "I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to drive you home. We could have sent a driver but," he explains, "I wanted to be the one to welcome you home." He does his best to smile, but as his melancholy grin drifts to how I hold on to my husband's hand, I can see how much this is costing him. "I'm glad it was you," I reach forward to give him a hug. "Thank you." Atlas, who has been receiving a slew of messages from Theo as soon as we landed, asks to be dropped off at the new Steele Industries building. "Looks like they need me," he apologizes, kissing my hand. "I'll make it up to you tonight," he whispers in my ear and I shiver in anticipation. "I'm going to hold you to that," I whisper discretely in his ear, trying to be mi
[Cordelia]The rest of that day went by in a blur. I insisted we rush back to the compound even though everyone had received the news that Tilly was gone. I couldn't believe it. My mind couldn't process the possibility of a world without Mathilda Madison. She wasn't just my best friend, she was my sister. So I couldn't let her go. Clark was distraught. He and Tilly took a while to find one another, and when they did finally make the right connection, they fell for one another hard. It was beautiful watching my two best friends fall in love--they were perfect for one another. But not all stories end with a happily ever after. That was a hard lesson for me to learn as well. I wanted nothing more than to watch Tilly raise her daughters. When we made it back an hour later, her body had already been collected. I had wanted to see her, to give it a chance to see if I could have brought her back: just one touch, one spark. I was convinced that I could have been the one to save her. The
[Sydney]Why can't they just let me die? It would be so easy, I'm already cut and bleeding. Why bother with the IVs and the monitors? It doesn't matter anymore. Did it ever matter?My entire existence has been a fraud. If my hands were free I'd count the ways on my fingertips all the ways I've been lied to and used.A madman altered my DNA and injected me into the wrong mother. I was raised believing I was special only to discover I was the offspring of my enemy. The man of my dreams was married to the daughter my mother was supposed to have, and I was just a cheap copy of the woman he once loved, my genetic twin, Angelica. Was this life ever really mine to begin with? Even now they aren't honoring my desire to die. "She needs more blood," the doctor announces over my head, her clear voice cutting through the din of the operating room chatter. "Her blood pressure has dropped to dangerous levels. We can't use the anesthesia. She'll need to be awake for the procedure."Procedure?"I d
[Clark]The dissection of Magnus' brain was one of the most intensely fascinating and uniquely horrifying things I have ever experienced. Using my computer to guide the charge, we attached wires to his brain, fed through a divide that my mother had retrieved from her vault. "This will disrupt his signal. It will keep him from making a full memory transfer. Hopefully whomever he's jumped into will have a fighting chance." Everything my mother has said since I volunteered for this task has sounded like something from a science fiction movie. The duplicates we had seen in Delilah's footage of her father's secret lab were all designed to hold Magnus's memories in an artificial extension of his life. Not all of them looked like his current body, as often it was useful for him to become someone entirely different for spying purposes. "Is this how he always seemed to know everything?" I ask aloud. We had wondered how he managed to get around all of our codes, to find ways to learn about wh
[Cordelia]"Wally?" Holding my hand above his head, I pause, hesitating. Just a moment before I was about to take this man's life without even the smallest shred of remorse. It was necessary to protect my family. My children and my husband. "Cordelia," He blinks, his eyes roving my face and the surroundings like a caged animal. Licking his dry, salty lips, his body is otherwise completely still. "I don't have much time. He's fighting me...I..."Wally's muscles spasm, shaking Atlas as well as he holds him in place. Closing his eyes, his body stills, as if the effort of keeping still is so great that he cannot do anything else at the same time. He whispers something that I can't quite make out, so I lean in, trying to capture his words.As my hair brushes his cheek, he repeats himself. "You need to end this, Cordelia. Don't let him escape to harm another. His other mind is gone, Suzanna saw to it, but he can still jump to someone else.""Wally, what are you saying," I shake my head. "No
[Cordelia]Atlas and I raced down the hall to the exit, soldiers moving out of our way as we passed, nobody bothering to stop us as my husband's icy glare and dominant aura kept them pinned in place. Magnus is dead and I have never been more terrified in my life. The door to the outside pushes open and we are instantly blinded by the overhead sunshine that covers the beach with an oddly bright gray that stings the eyes. It is warmer than it had been earlier, the wind having died down, trapping the moisture of impending rain, held in place by the gathering storm. "Jasper," I call out gently, scanning the beach. "Wally?""Atlas do you see Jasper?" I grab my husband's arm. His pulse is rapid beneath my fingertips as we move forward as one and find the abandoned picnic blanket and Jasper's little galoshes next to a much larger pair. "Wally!" I scream out towards the waves and find him standing in the water, at the far edge of the beach. There is no sign of my son. None. It's as if the