Chapter 78

Chapter 78
Jesse

I knew this was my only shot. I had to be fast, or I’d be stuck in this bed for the rest of my life.

Raya leaned over one more time to grab the dirty towels near my feet. Her hip was right there so I shifted my weight and pretended to have a cramp in my leg, and let out a small groan. 

As she looked up at my face to see if I was okay, my hand shot out.

It was a blur. My fingers unhooked the key from the loop of her apron. I didn't even feel it come loose. I pulled my hand back and shoved the key deep under the mattress, all in one smooth motion. My heart was thumping so hard I thought they’d hear it through my chest.

"Are you okay, Jesse?" Raya asked.

"Y-yeah," I stuttered. "Just a cramp. I’ve been sitting still too long, I guess?"

They didn't notice. Raya stood up, wiped her hands on her dress, and walked out. The guards stepped in, checked my wrists one last time and slammed the door. 

I waited until the sun went down and the room turned into a graveyard of shadows. I waited until the footsteps in the hall died out and the house went silent. 

My stomach was in knots. What if this key wasn't for the door? What if there were more guards at the end of the hall?

Finally, I crawled out of bed. I grabbed the key from under the mattress and crept to the door. 

My hands were shaking so much I almost dropped the damn thing. I slid it into the lock. Please fit. Please fit.

Click.

The door swung open a crack. I held my breath, waiting for a shout, a growl, anything. Nothing. The hallway was empty, lit only by a few lamps on the walls. Good.

I slipped out, sticking myself to the shadows. I had no idea where I was going. This place was a maze with too many doors and to many turns. I wanted to find the stairs, but every corner I turned looked exactly like the one before. My pulse was racing. How sure was I that I wasn't just going in circles?

"Great plan, Jesse," I whispered to myself. "Get out of the room just to get lost in the hallway. Brilliant."

I turned a sharp corner into a long gallery. It was colder here, and the walls were lined with large, gold-framed paintings. I didn't know Maddox was into art.

I wasn't here to sight see so I walked fast keeping my bare feet silent on the carpet. I just wanted to find a way down to the kitchens or the dungeons.

Then, I stopped.

I didn't mean to. My body just froze.

I passed a portrait, a huge one and something about it made the hair on my arms stand up. I backed up slowly and my eyes widened as I looked at it properly.
The man in the painting was sitting in a garden. He had a soft smile, the kind of smile I hadn't used in years. 

He was wearing expensive clothes, looking happy and well-fed. But it wasn't the clothes that stopped my heart.

It was the face.

It was my nose, the eyes. It looked like me! No no, it didnt look like me, it WAS me. That was the exact shape of my jaw. Even the way a small piece of hair fell over his forehead was the same. If I stood in front of a mirror right now, I’d be looking at a twin. No, not a twin. It was me.

I felt the air leave my lungs. My knees felt like they were made of water. I reached out, my fingers trembling as I almost touched the painted cheek. 

This wasn't possible. I’ve never been in this pack. I’ve never worn clothes like that. I’ve never been that happy.

"What the... what the fuck?" I breathed out, the words coming out as a shaky exhale.

I stepped back, my head spinning. Why was there a picture of me in Maddox’s house? Who was this person? My mind raced back to what Maddox said about how I was "special."

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This person  in the gold frame. It was me.

But as I looked closer, my eyes darting over the canvas like I was trying to solve a puzzle I started to see the little things. 

This guy’s hair was a little longer and silkier. 

His hands were smooth, not scarred and calloused like mine from years of climbing trees and gutting fish. 

He looked... soft. He looked like he had never spent a single night sleeping on the dirt or running for his life. That was how I finally realised that it wasn't me. Not really. 

"How?" I whispered. My voice sounded tiny in the huge hallway. 

"How is this even real?"

I felt like I was losing my mind. Was I dreaming? Was I still chained to the bed and just having some kind of fever dream? I reached out and pinched my arm hard. It hurt. I was awake alright.

I started pacing back and forth in front of the portrait, my hands pulling at my hair. 

Maybe I had a twin? That was the only thing that made sense, right? But no that was stupid. That was impossible. I knew my parents. I remembered them clearly. 

They never said anything about another son. We were a small family. There was no secret brother, no other half living in a fancy mansion while I was eating scraps in the woods.

"What the hell is this?" I hissed, looking back at the painting. 

"What am I looking at?"

The more I stared, the more it freaked me out. It wasn't just a resemblance. It was a carbon copy. 

If I put on those clothes and sat in that garden, nobody would be able to tell us apart.

And then the realization hit me like a bucket of ice water. This was in the Variant Pack house. Maddox's house.

Is this why he’s obsessed with me? Is this why he wants me to eat and asks me about my childhood? 

My stomach turned. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at this guy. He was looking at a ghost and trying to see it in my face.

"What kind of sick game is he playing?" I asked the empty air. My voice was shaking now. 

"Does he think I'm him? Does he think he can just swap us out like pieces of furniture?"

I felt sick. Truly sick. Every "kind" thing Maddox had done, the soup, the ointment, the fancy room, it wasn't for Jesse the rogue. 

It was for this person in the painting. I was just a body filling a gap. I was a replacement for a dead man.

But then, a much worse thought crawled into my head.

Rhea.

Rhea had been with me for a long time. She was my friend. We had survived together. 

She had seen my face every single day for a month and she was Maddox’s sister.
She had to know.

There was no way she could look at me and not see this guy. Every time she laughed with me, every time we sat by the fire and talked about the future... did she see me? Or did she see him?

"Did she know?" I whispered. My throat felt tight, like I was about to cry, but I was too angry for tears. 

"She had to. She’s been lying to me. The whole time."

Every conversation we had felt fake now. Every moment of "friendship" felt like a lie. 

She wasn't my friend as she was just hanging onto a memory that had my face. 

She knew why Maddox was hunting me! She knew why he wouldn't let me go. And she never said a word.

I looked at the portrait one last time. The man’s eyes seemed to follow me. He looked so peaceful, so happy. I hated him. I hated him for having my face.

I had to get out of this hallway. I had to find the truth, but I also wanted to scream. Who can I even trust? If my best friend was lying to me about who I was, then I really had nobody.

"You're all crazy," I choked out, backing away from the painting. "This whole pack is insane.”