Page 96 of Callum
It took a lot to surprise Liam. You didn’t go through deployments, then Project Arma, without seeing a shitload of messed up. But this?
His inhale was sharp.
“What?” Callum growled.
“It’s her. It’s fuckingher, Cal. Jenny is Olivia.”
Another thick, dangerous beat of silence. “What do you see?”
He ran his gaze over the images plastered on every inch of the back wall. All of Fiona, and all in different places. In some she was alone, in others she was with Callum. Some of the photos had notes on them.
Right side of mouth higher than left.
Squint eyes when smiling.
His gaze shot to the closet to the right of the back wall. It was open, with women’s clothing inside. Fiona’s clothing? Or replicas? There were also wigs and makeup. Boxes of contact lenses.
His blood burned through his veins like acid as he moved to a computer that sat on a small corner desk. “She’s taken photos of Fiona and stuck them on the walls. There are hundreds of them, Cal. Clothing, contact lenses, and wigs too.”
“I want to kick my own ass. She’s been under our damn noses this entire time.”
Liam lowered to the seat in front of the laptop and tapped some keys. He expected to be stopped by a locked screen, a password he didn’t have. Instead, the computer woke to what she’d last been doing.
Two images sat side by side. At first glance, they looked identical, but on closer inspection he saw slight differences. The whites of the eyes in the photo on the right weren’t quite so bright, and there were darkish circles that shadowed those dark eyes.
He moved the mouse, minimizing the photos and finding a folder full of images, some labeled “Fiona,” the others labeled “replica.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face and leaned back. “She’s been practicing Fiona’s expressions.”
“I’m gonna kill her,” Callum growled.
Liam clicked into another folder, his chest tightening when he saw videos inside. He opened the first one and his stomach soured. “She put cameras in Fiona’s house. They date back to a couple months ago.”
This woman hadn’t just been studying Fiona. She’d put all her time and resources intobeingher.
* * *
The second Callum hung up,he wanted to punch something. Throw his fist through a damn wall and let the pain drown out the frustration. The raw fucking anger.
She’d been right there the entire damn time, and no one had suspected her.
He scrubbed his hands over his face as he heard the shower turn off upstairs. Now, he had to go tell Fiona that her best friend was actually her twin sister. Was attempting to steal her damn life. Hell, the tattoo was likely the damn birthmark.
Fuck.
He shoved his phone into his pocket and moved up the stairs. His steps were slower than they should be because he was dreading the coming conversation.
He stopped at the closed bedroom door, frowning.
Fiona never closed the door.
He turned the handle and stepped inside to find Fiona pulling a shirt over her head. She looked up and smiled at him. “Hey. What should we have for dinner? I’m starving.”
He frowned in surprise. “You still want takeout?”
She paused. “Oh, yeah, of course. Sorry, I’m exhausted.”
He took a couple more steps into the room. “I need to tell you something, and I think you should sit down while I do.”
