Addison slipped on her black silk pajamas and then looked at herself in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair several times, enjoying the fact there was no gel locking it into place. She had debated numerous times about using it, but she believed anything feminine would show weakness, including the natural waves of her dark brown hair. So, the ambiguity of her gender remained hidden behind suits and hair product. After finger-combing her hair one last time, Addison brushed her teeth and headed to bed.

Sitting on the edge of the king size mattress, she opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bottle of pills. Tapping one out, she popped it into her mouth and washed it down with the rest of her scotch, thus ending her nightly routine. Flicking off the light, she waited for the alcohol and barbiturate to take effect.

***

Since moving to The Oaks, Joanna’s morning regimen was much like Addison’s nightly one, unwavering and predictable, except on the weekends. On Saturdays and Sundays, Joanna became the reincarnation of the young Addison Kane, banished from most areas of the home simply because she existed.

Joanna spent Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning continuing her safari through the jungle of gardens, but when the rains began, she sloshed back inside. After taking a quick shower, she made her way to her father’s room.

Expecting to find him either snoozing or intent on the latest football match, when she saw him standing by the window staring out the rain-spattered glass, her momentum stopped. One glimpse at the television proved it to be on and in working order, and Joanna knew enough about sports to recognize, by the colors of the jerseys, the teams playing were two of her father’s favorites. She scratched her head as she looked around, and noticing a few tabloids at the foot of the bed, she went over and picked one up.

“Not like you to read this rubbish,” she said, tossing the newspaper back on the bed.

Slowly, Robert turned to face his daughter. “And I wish I hadn’t.”

“What?”

“So, you’re a gardener now?” he said, gesturing toward the window with his head. “The hired help?”

“What are you talking about?” Joanna said, grinning as she walked toward him. “You know I’m just doing it to keep busy. We chat about this every morning. Did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t,” Robert said, limping by his daughter to get to the bed. Sitting on the edge, he picked up one of the tabloids. “The nurses leave these around. I don’t usually pay them any mind, but this morning I did.” Raising his eyes to meet his daughter’s, he said, “They’re filled with articles about you.”

“Me?” Joanna said, her voice raising an octave.