The Twin Who Erased My Life

3: 3

"Lucy, why are you so worked up tonight?"

Doris picked up a rib and set it on my plate, her eyes searching my face.

"I finally have a home. Of course I'm happy," I said.

Joe was sprawled on the couch, one leg crossed over the other. "Lucy, I'm just saying, what does a woman need her own place for? Marry me and you'll have a house anyway."

"Who said anything about marrying you?" I rolled my eyes at him.

"We were promised to each other as kids. What, you want to back out?"

"That was a kid thing. It doesn't count."

Joe's face shifted, then smoothed over just as fast. He lifted his beer. "Come on, a toast. To Lucy finally getting her own little hole to crawl into."

"You're the one crawling into a hole." I raised my juice and clinked it against his bottle.

I didn't drink the beer.

In my last life, it was that glass of wine that put me under.

This time I wasn't touching a drop. I didn't believe I could still be knocked out cold if I stayed sober.

Ten-thirty at night.

Doris and Joe had both had a bit too much. They were slumped on the couch, one scrolling on a phone, the other dozing.

I carried the dishes into the kitchen and checked the evidence I'd saved.

The social media post was still there. So was the chat log from the residents' group.

The call recording in my cloud storage and the footage from the door camera were fine too.

I let out a breath.

The nightmare from my last life wouldn't happen this time. Right?

I loaded the bowls into the dishwasher, dried my hands, and walked out of the kitchen.

That was when the lights went out.

The whole apartment dropped into black.

Doris shrieked and shot up off the couch. "Why'd the power go out?"

"Breaker probably tripped." Joe's voice came out of the dark. "I'll go check the box."

"No need, I'll go," I said.

I fished out my phone, turned on the flashlight, and headed for the door.

The breaker box was on the ground floor.

I opened the door. The emergency lights were on in the hallway.

I hurried to the elevator and hit the down button.

Ground floor. I found the breaker box.

The indicator lights were on. Everything normal.

I froze for a second. Then it hit me.

I spun around and ran, straight for the elevator.

The doors opened. I threw myself in and jabbed the button for the eighth floor over and over.

The elevator climbed. Every second was agony.

Finally. Eighth floor.

I burst out and ran to 802, dug out my key, my hand shaking too hard to fit it in the lock.

Click. The door opened.

I pushed it in and stopped dead.

Doris and Joe were gone from the couch.

In their place stood a strange man.

His back was to me. When he heard the door, he turned around.

Every drop of blood in me froze.

It was Zachary.

The man who, in my last life, had taken my apartment out of thin air.

"Who are you?" He frowned. "Why do you have a key to my place?"

My mouth opened. This couldn't be happening.

I hadn't drunk anything. I hadn't blacked out. So why was this still happening?

"I asked you a question!" Zachary stood and came toward me. "Who the hell are you?"

I stepped back, then bolted for the bedroom.

I yanked open the drawer, pulled out the deed, and opened it with shaking hands.

The moment I saw Zachary's name on it, I screamed and nearly went down.

Zachary came in after me and grabbed my arm. "Are you insane? What are you doing digging through my place?"

I threw him off. "I bought this apartment!"

"You bought it?" Zachary sneered. "Then why is my name on the deed?"

"No. How do you even know my deed is in the bedroom drawer?"

I didn't answer him. I stumbled into the living room, snatched up my phone, and opened my social media feed.

The post showing off the deed was gone.

I opened the cloud storage. Every other piece of evidence I'd saved ahead of time had vanished with it.