In the far corner sat a scratched metal box.
It was Arthur, but he looked different. His smile was softer, and his posture was more open.
“I don’t understand…”
“Maybe this will explain it.”
She passed me another photograph. In this one, two young men stood side by side with matching faces and different expressions. Twins.
“He never told me he had a twin brother,” I said.
“Nobody told me either.” Linda held out two documents. “Arthur and Michael. Nobody in our family ever talked about Michael. He must’ve done something terrible to get kicked out of the family.”
I stared at Linda. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Nobody told me either.”
Linda sighed. “When I was 18, Dad went away for a week on business. When he came back, he wasn’t right. He forgot things, suddenly developed weird habits, and didn’t even speak the same way. And whenever I questioned it, he made me feel crazy.”
She certainly sounded crazy, but I didn’t interrupt.
“He said I was confusing things because I hadn’t processed my mother’s death. I started to believe him. Then, a year ago, I found this.”
She handed me the last document.
My knees nearly gave way.
She certainly sounded crazy.
Every memory I’d made with Arthur rearranged itself in my mind with sickening speed as I reread the words on that page.
“It ends now,” I said.
Gripping the documents in trembling hands, I marched back upstairs.
The party was still going on. Someone laughed near the drinks table. Plates clinked.
I walked straight toward him.
He smiled. “There you are. I was wondering where—”
“Arthur, I need you to explain this.” I held up the last document Linda had given me.
“It ends now.”
The blood drained from Arthur’s face. “Where did you get that?”
“That’s not an answer! This,” I shook the document, “is your death certificate. How is it possible that I just married a dead man?”
“What?” Someone yelled.
Arthur glanced around. Then something changed in his face — not panic, not outrage, just exhaustion. He pulled out a chair and sat down.
“I suppose this was always going to come out, eventually. I’m not Arthur. I’m Michael. But I swear, I only took his place because it’s what he wanted.”
“What are you talking about?” Linda demanded.
