“Yes. In technical terms it’s called Erythropoietic Protoporphyria but that’s a pain to say. Basically, I’m allergic to the sun.”
“Were you always allergic to the sun?”
“Since I was little,” I answered uncomfortably. I didn’t want to admit that my parents had given me up because of my sickness. “Mother knew how to take care of me.”
“Speaking of which, there are some people here who are pretty anxious to see you,” Dr. Marshall said, almost as if she had read my mind. “Are you excited to see your family?”
I shrugged. “They gave me up when I got sick. I’m not sure how I feel about seeing them. I can’t wait to see Mia though,” I said with open honesty and excitement.
Her face shifted into a forced smile.
“I see. Tell me about Mia.”
“Mia is my twin sister,” I said, barely able to get the words out.
“Your twin?” Dr. Marshall asked. “Did Judy tell you about Mia?”
I shook my head. Why would Judy tell me about Mia? I was old enough when she took me to live with her to remember my family. “I could never forget Mia,” I said with conviction.
“I understand. Why don’t you tell me a little about Mia.”
I nearly laughed out loud in relief. It would be a piece of cake to talk about Mia.
“Mia is amazing,” I started, feeling happy for the first time in days. “We’re twins, but she’s everything I’m not. She’s funny, smart, and she’s always good,” I said, wishing my voice would stop shaking. It wasn’t like I was admitting that I wasn’t necessarily good, but she might have drawn that conclusion. Would she be less inclined to be my friend if she learned all the bad things I’d done? Probably.
I pushed the negative thoughts back in my mind and continued describing Mia, the perfect twin.
There were so many things I knew about Mia. I talked in great detail, proudly boasting over all her attributes.
“You seem to know a lot about your sister,” Dr. Marshall said when I finally finished.
“Of course I do. She’s my twin,” I said indignantly. Did she really think I wouldn’t know my own sister?
Dr. Marshall nodded, jotting again in her notebook. “I have to admit, I’m a little confused. Some of the things you remember about Mia don’t match up with your time with Judy Lawson.”
I looked at her blankly, wondering what her point was.
“For example, you mentioned that Mia is a straight-A student, but you were six years old when you were taken. Your parents tell me that the scho
ol year had just started when you disappeared. That’s a little early for grades, isn’t it?” Her tone remained soft and careful. “How do you know Mia is a straight-A student?” she gently prodded. Her question caught me off guard and I couldn’t help recoiling away from her.
My head began to pound painfully.
Pound.
Pound.
Pound.
I rubbed my temples, searching for an answer that would make the throbbing subside.
“You also said that Mia likes to volunteer when she’s not doing schoolwork or hanging out with her friends.” Her words continued to pierce my head like a knife.
Pound.
Pound.
Pound.