Chapter 55: Twins’ Realization

Chapter 55: Twins’ Realization
Damien’s POV

I'd never met Adrian until this year, but I knew him as soon as I saw him for the first time. That strange weight in the air, that pull I didn't recognise. We weren't enemies. We weren't friends. We were… something different. And I couldn't eliminate that sensation in my chest that I was being kept in the dark.

Today was worse. We'd been put into a group project. Just my luck.

Adrian didn't talk much. He was intense, focused, his eyes roving the room before he ever opened his mouth. I saw people respect him, but not get close to him. That was like me more than I cared to admit.

We sat across from one another in the school library, pages spread out on the table between us, but I wasn't looking at those. At him.

"Always so quiet?" I finally asked.

Adrian raised an eyebrow, his brow furrowed. "Depends who's asking."

His tone wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either. As if he were holding up a wall, just in case. I got that. I'd constructed my entire life out of walls. But I wasn't accustomed to being on the receiving end of one.

"Look," I said, attempting to be nonchalant, "do you ever get the feeling that. Something's off? Not school. Just. life?"

He froze, eyes narrowing fractionally. "What do you mean?

I don't know," I told him. "Lately, I've felt like I've been cast into someone else's book. Like there's something that I'm supposed to remember, something big, but I just can't. Only pieces. Morsels."

Adrian looked at me for a very long time. "You're not crazy," he breathed.

I blinked. "That sounded like you've been thinking the same thing.".

He didn't answer right away. He leaned back in his chair, gazing past me as if he were watching something that wasn't there.

"I've been dreaming," he said after a bit. "Weird ones. Faces I don't know. Places I've never been. But they feel familiar. Like. like home."

I got a shiver down my arms. "Same.".

We both fell quiet. The quiet between us wasn't awkward. It was heavy. Full of something we couldn't put our finger on yet.

I pulled out my notebook and walked to the back, where I'd been drawing lately. I hadn't shown it to anyone, but something made me. I turned it in his direction.

"That's the house I've been seeing," I said.

Adrian’s eyes widened as he stared at the sketch. “I’ve seen this place too. In my dreams.”

I leaned forward. “So what is it? What does it mean?”

He was quiet, flipping through the next page where I’d drawn two boys. Twins. Same face, different expressions. One smiling, one frowning.

Adrian’s hand hovered over the page. “You think we’re—?”

"I don't know," I replied in a rush. "I mean, I know it's crazy. But look at us. We resemble each other. We act like each other. Even our voices are alike."

He laughed, a dry sound. "People have told me that. I thought it was a coincidence."

"Do you believe in coincidence?" I asked.

He nodded his head slowly. "Not anymore."

We didn't utter a word for a long minute. I was spinning. What were the odds that two guys, born the same year, same day, ended up in the same school and were doppelgangers?

I knew what it was. I just didn't want to say it.

Adrian stood up, scooting his bag. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"My house," he said. "There's something you need to see."

I trailed behind him without asking further questions. Perhaps I should have. Perhaps I should have stopped, breathed, and called Evelyn. But I didn't. Because in the back of my mind, I knew the truth was finally within reach—and I wanted it more than I wanted to be safe.

We arrived at his house, a shiny house behind high hedges and black iron gates. His adopted father was rich, I'd heard. But it wasn't the house that hit me—it was the painting in the hallway. A woman with dark, long hair and a warm smile.

"I know her," I gasped, my feet frozen in place.

Adrian turned around. "That's my mom. Or. the woman who raised me. Evelyn."

I took another step forward. "That's Evelyn Carter."

He blinked. "How did you know her name?"

"She raised me," I said, the words forcing themselves out barely. "She's my mother, too."

Adrian's face went white. "No. That can't be."

"She never told me who my dad was," I said. "She always said it was too complicated."

Adrian sat himself down on the couch. "So if Evelyn took care of you…And I lived with Serena until I was twelve… then that means—"

"We were split up," I told him, my chest tightening. "We were twins."

Adrian didn't argue this time. He simply stared at the wall as if our whole history came crashing down in front of him.

"This is insane," he breathed. "Why would anybody do something like this? Why split us up?"

Because Serena had lied," I said. "She must have wanted to keep one of us hidden. Or use us."

Adrian's face was flushed with anger. Or rage. He looked like he needed to scream. Or break something.

"I saw her," he said suddenly. "Last week. She came around the school. She didn't say anything, just stood and stared from a distance."

"She's planning something," I said. "And I think we're in the middle.