Jane invites me to spend the holiday with her, Booker, Ollie, and the twins in the Caribbean, and a small part of me longs to say yes, but I know I can’t. I’m not that Emma, the one who can be casual and free and light, and who can throw herself into a beach-filled vacation with Ollie. I doubt I ever will be again. There’s too much uncertainty. Too many fractures in my battered heart. I wish I could love Ollie in an uncomplicated way, and be like any other girl I know he’ll end up loving, one day. But right now, my life’s too messy. I can’t put this off any longer. I have to talk to my father.

I haven’t seen him since he accompanied me to school in September. I don’t know for a fact he saw my essay in The Daily Darkwood, but if I had to guess, he’s spotted it, one way or another. And if he has, he knows that I know. I’m a clone.

The morning of my flight, two days before Christmas, I walk with Ollie along the path by Dark Lake, my hands deep in my coat pockets. The air is freezing and crisp, and Ollie’s hair, wet from the shower, glistens in the light.

“You’re going to get icicles on your head,” I warn him, teasing. “It’s below freezing out.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he answers, smiling. But he flips his hood up over his ears.

“So you’re spending the holiday here in Vermont, right?” I ask as we round a corner and the lake becomes visible through the trees. I wonder if it’s completely iced over by now.

“Yup. Then Booker’s flying out to meet us so we can travel together to Saint Lucia,” Ollie answers, his gaze on the distant horizon. “You sure you can’t come with us, Em?” Ollie asks, turning toward me. I’ve taken my hands out of my pockets to rub them together—even with gloves on, my fingers are chilly—and before I know it, Ollie’s holding my hands in his own. I feel an instant warmth radiating from my hands to my arms. It’s sudden and unexpected. And not unwelcome.

“I can’t avoid my dad any longer,” I answer quickly. “We haven’t talked yet.” I don’t have to elaborate; Ollie knows what I mean. Of course, this isn’t the only reason I can’t come with them on their trip. But it’s the most pressing, and it’s the only one I can say out loud.

“Em…”

“Yes?” I breathe, my mind suddenly bombarded with the image of us kissing. I can’t stop it from filling my mind, as much as I want to. It’s because we’re standing here, so close. And we’re holding hands.