Sydney pulled her arm from his grasp. Without another word she stamped back to the hotel.
By the time Sydney reached the door of her room, she was sobbing. The tears mixed with the layers of makeup she had applied earlier made her eyes sting. She could barely see the silver door handle in front of her. It was all she could do to take a breath and try to calm herself before facing Alex. How would she explain all of this to him? She couldn’t. And yet she wanted to, she needed someone to confide in.
When she finally fumbled the door open, she took in the room and saw that it was empty.
“Alex,” she called out. The shaky sound of his name betrayed her fragile state. “Are you here?”
She was greeted with silence. Sydney took another deep breath. What a relief. The quiet room gave her time to figure out her next steps. If she could even think that clearly.
All the information she had just received from Jack was screeching through her head at a breakneck pace. It was all she could do to keep up with the synapses that must have been exploding with the news. Jack was alive. He had survived the crash. He had lied to her over and over again about everything in his life. How did I miss this?
But then, she knew how she missed it. On the surface, Jack fit the bill of goods she was looking for. Charming, successful, handsome, and the list went on. She spent so much of her life portraying perfection that she had lost sight of the depth that lies underneath the surface. There was much more to life than that image she portrayed on social media.
Sydney really thought about what he had said, that she lied. Maybe it was the truth. Sydney only bothered to put out perfection in her feed. She always wore makeup, always had the perfectly styled outfit. She was always doing something fun. It was never about the pain she experienced in her life. Her struggles with insecurity. Even the death of her husband, which she dedicated one post to and moved on.
The line between who she really was and the business of being @SydneyStyle11 had blurred. She always portrayed a perfect life because that was the life she wanted to be living. Sydney would often scroll back through her feed each day and admire her work. She wasn’t just curating a perfect social media feed; she was creating the perfect life.
Her followers admired it too. As Jack had said, they nearly worshipped her. “How do you keep it together?” they would say. “You are so adorable!” It was constant positive feedback for her, and she was addicted to the feeling it gave her.
But to compare her social feed to Jack’s lies? His fake death? That is ridiculous! she thought. Her life was unraveling quickly, and she only had a few threads she was holding on to in the first place. When she pulled her hands away from her face, they were covered in smeared foundation and mascara.
Sydney got up off the bed and headed to the bathroom. She wasn’t going to solve any problems with all that makeup running in her eyes. She quickly washed her face and dabbed it with a towel. When she looked up at the mirror, she saw the true Sydney, puffy from crying, but truly her. She looked at her reflection for several moments and wondered about her next move. It was late. She was beyond the point of being exhausted and yet she didn’t know if she could sleep.
She was shaking as she slipped out of the red dress and into a silk nightgown. Her mind was in shock over the revelation that Jack was still alive. She felt the tears starting to come again.
Just as she was preparing to fall back into her bed, she heard a knock at the door. Alex? She thought. No, he had a key.
She grabbed the floral silk robe from the edge of the bed and wrapped it around her as she approached the door. She peered through the peephole. It was Jack.
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” she said through the door.
“Sydney, listen, there is something else I need to tell you.”
“Nothing you can say matters now.”
“This does. Please, just trust me.”
Sydney bit her lip, trying to decide what to do. If Alex found Jack here, she wasn’t sure what would happen, how she would explain everything to him.
She sighed and opened the door for Jack. “You need to be quick—my date is going to be back any minute and if he finds you here…”
As she turned to walk into the room, she felt a warm cloth wrap around her nose and mouth, a strong pungent odor stinging her nostrils. She immediately reached her hand up to pry it away so she could catch her breath. But Jack overpowered her, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she struggled.
“I’m sorry, Sydney,” he whispered in her ear as she fought to keep her eyes open. “I just can’t afford to let you ruin my plan.”
Plan. The last word rang in her ears as she finally gave in to the black wave of unconsciousness.
Thirty-Two
Ethan
When Ethan awoke, there was a dry, calloused hand covering his mouth. He pulled back violently as his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room. Every muscle fiber in his body tightened, his adrenaline sending warning flags to the network of nerves under his skin.
“What the—” He tried to speak, but the words were muffled.
As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the man standing over him was his mirror in every way: height, facial features, hair and eye color. Ethan’s eyes went from tiny slits to wide open.
No fucking way, he thought. Jack?
As his brain tried to recalibrate, he briefly wondered if he had been drugged. But if he was drugged or dreaming, this wasn’t the Jack he would have seen. His brother, who now seemed to be standing in his hotel suite, looked different. Thinner, with a slight hollow to his brown eyes. Because of this altered appearance, he was sure what he saw in front of him was real. More than that, he felt it in a way that only a twin could. The shock reverberated through his entire body and made his stomach tighten in pain.
“Ethan, shh, it’s me,” Jack said.
“Jack? Jack! What are you—why are you…I thought you were dead, damn it!” He fought to break free of Jack’s hold on him. Jack took a step back and released his hands from Ethan’s mouth. He slowly raised his arms in the air, his body tightly wound and ready to spring away at any moment.
“I know, it’s a long story. I’m sorry,” he said in a forceful whisper. He raised his hands in front of him, waving them slightly as if to signal surrender.
Ethan was seriously considering knocking his teeth right out of his mouth. The anger hit him like a train, crashing through his sleepy brain.
Jack continued to speak: “Listen, I can explain—”
“You can explain!?” He suddenly felt awake as the news sunk in. “Jack, you piece of shit. I held a funeral for you! How could you do that to me?” He reached out and slapped down one of Jack’s hands. Jack stood a little straighter as if knowing Ethan wouldn’t kill him right then and there. As he took a deep breath, he concentrated on Ethan’s face.
“I didn’t plan for it to happen like this. Things just started falling into place. I saw another way out of the situation with Estavez. A way for us to survive. Ethan, just listen—”
“Can you just—can you just give me a minute?” Ethan rose out of bed and walked to the giant sliding doors that framed out the private beach below him.
Jack stayed near the bed, silently watching him. The navy-colored waves were crashing silently against the shore below. It was still dark outside; he guessed it was maybe four or five in the morning.