The girl smiled and glanced at Charlie, then drew back her foot and kicked John in the ribs, knocking him onto his side and against a heavy wooden trunk. Charlie ran toward him, but before she could reach him, the girl grabbed her hair, bringing tears to her eyes. The imposter pulled upward, lifting Charlie several inches off the ground, and then flung her aside. Charlie tried to regain her footing but tripped backward over a cardboard box and slammed hard into the opposite wall, knocking the wind out of her as John got warily to his feet. Charlie climbed to her knees. She dragged in heavy, grinding breaths, watching helplessly as the other Charlie strode toward John.

He straightened, and without a pause, she punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, and before he could stand, she hit the back of his head with her fist, like it was a hammer and he was a nail.

John fell forward, catching himself on his hands and knees, and scrambled up. He lunged again at the girl, catching her shoulder with his fist, but the blow glanced off her, and he yelped in pain, clutching his hand like it had hit something harder than flesh and bone. The imposter took him by the shoulders, lifting him off the ground, and carried him across the room, then pressed him against the wall. She released him and let him stand, turning to look at Charlie momentarily, then she placed her open palm against John’s chest.

Suddenly, John began to gasp for breath, his face turning red. The imposter’s face remained unchanged, her open hand slowly pressing harder against his chest. “I can’t—” John gasped for air. “Can’t breathe.” He clutched at her arm with both hands, but it was no use as she continued to steadily press into him. John slowly began to slide up the wall, inch by inch, the pressure forcing his entire body upward.

“Stop!” Charlie cried, but the other Charlie didn’t flinch. “Please!” Charlie scrambled to her feet and ran to John’s side, but the other Charlie snapped out her other arm and caught her by the neck without moving her hand from John’s chest. Her fingers closed on Charlie’s throat, closing off her windpipe as she lifted her up onto her toes. Charlie choked, kicking and gasping. The imposter held her there, looking expressionlessly from Charlie to John as she kept them both immobilized and struggling to breathe.

“Okay,” Charlie wheezed. “I want to talk. Please,” she begged hoarsely. The imposter dropped them both. John fell motionless to the floor. “You’ve hurt him, let me help him.” Charlie coughed, pulling herself up.

“You’re so attached to something so … easily broken,” she said with amusement. Charlie strained to see past her, anxiously watching John’s chest as it rose and fell. He’s alive. Charlie took a breath, then turned to face the girl who had her face.