Right Number, Wrong Girl

I cupped my hands around my nose and mouth and dropped onto the chair. “No. She’s still in Norway.”

“She’s not. Rupert has just let her in, and I ran in here. There’s a lot of confusion out there right now.”

“You have to get her,” I told her. “Bring her here and we can explain and—”

The library doors opened, revealing Rupert, the duchess, and Camilla.

I froze.

I’d never wanted to see my best friend less in my life.

“Camilla, this woman claims she’s Camilla. What’s going on here?” The duchess asked, looking at us all. “Helena, why did you run in here like a bat out of hell? I’m extremely confused and would like someone to clear it all up.”

Cam frowned at me. “Soph? I don’t understand.”

“Soph?” The duchess looked between us. “Who is Soph? Will someone please explain?”

Helena inhaled. “It’s a long story.”

“Will someone please tell it?” her mother shouted.

“What’s going on?” Hugo walked in with Henry on his heels. “Rupert mentioned something about there being too many—oh, shit.”

I looked at him.

Help.

Henry cleared his throat. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out!” The duchess was losing her patience if the tone of her voice was anything to go by.

Hugo and Henry shuffled closer to me, and so did Helena.

That was nice.

We could all go down together.

HMS Sophie.

It had quite the ring to it, didn’t it?

Cam took a step forward. “Soph, I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“She’s been lying to you.” Nancy walked into the library like she was Hercule fucking Poirot ready to solve the mystery that never was. “She’s not Camilla. Her name is Sophie Smith.”

Recognition flashed across the duchess’s face. “Sophie?”

Hugo stepped forward, but she held up her hand.

“No. Don’t you dare,” she warned him. “Someone needs to start talking and start talking now.”

Cam looked at me, confused. “Soph?”

I rubbed my hands over my face. Hugo reached out, but I shrugged him off, taking a step closer to Helena.

“I am not Camilla,” I said quietly. “I am, as Nancy said, Sophie Smith.”

“I don’t understand,” my best friend said softly. “Have you been pretending to be me?”