Chapter 148: No allergy "Wait." Suzy lifted a hand, stopping the torrent of vitriol. A single, solid fact had broken through the rant. "Aurora... was allergic to pollen? Seriously allergic?"
Claire gave her a look of pure exasperation. "Yeah. Apparently it was bad. Anaphylactic, I heard. The teachers had memos about it. How do you not remember? They banned peonies from the spring dance in my school because of her and everyone in our circle was literally talking about it."
But Suzy wasn’t listening anymore.
Her mind stilled. Then it began to spin, rapidly connecting dots.
Aurora. Allergic to pollen.
Fragments of the past few weeks flashed behind her eyes: Aurora since the wedding. The subtle off-ness. The slight clumsiness where there was once brittle precision. The strange softness in her eyes, the uncharacteristic hesitations and sometimes... no hesitation at all. The way she sometimes looked at a room full of people as if she were a tourist reading a confusing map.
And then... the memory, crisp and clear: the flower shop. Aster and Thorns.
Hades had bought the entire damned thing for her as some bizarre peace offering or love offering, and Suzy, yes, she had been there with her. They’d stood there for a long ass time among buckets of roses, lilies, and delphiniums, pollen visibly floating in the sunbeams cutting through the air.
Normal. No redness. No sneezing. No wheezing. No frantic search for an EpiPen.
No allergy.
Suzy’s chest tightened, a cold knot of realization forming in her gut.
She leaned forward on the bed, her playful mask completely gone, her eyes intense and steady. "Claire. Seriously. Is there anything else you can remember about Aurora? From back then?"
Claire snorted, exasperated. "Aside from her being annoying as fuck and a master manipulator?"
"Yes," Suzy said flatly, her voice leaving no room for nonsense. "Aside from that. Specifics."
Claire sighed dramatically, leaning back into the couch cushions as if put upon. "How am I supposed to know? I’ve hated her since that day. I always thought something must have happened between them afterward. Hardy kept giving her these weird, worried looks for months, and Aurora would just act like she didn’t notice. Like she was so innocent, just minding her own business. Ugh!" She flung her hands up. "It drove me crazy. Why are you so interested all of a sudden?"
"Shut up for a second." Suzy’s tone was sharper than intended, enough to make Claire’s eyes widen in genuine surprise. "I’m not asking for your commentary. I’m asking if you remember anything else concrete. Think. Properly."
Claire narrowed her eyes, now truly intrigued. "Why are you digging into your dear cousin-in-law’s ancient history like this?"
Suzy ignored her, something else clicking into place. "Wait." She leaned closer, her voice dropping, quick and eager. "Aurora... did she have freckles? You must’ve seen her in gym class or something. Without makeup."
Claire frowned, thrown by the non-sequitur. "Freckles? God, no. I doubt that." She gave a careless shrug. "Even though I hated that girl, you had to admit she had a... a placid, spotless complexion. Not a mark. Annoyingly perfect, really. Like a porcelain doll."
"Are you absolutely sure she wasn’t wearing make up to school?"
"Unlikely," Claire shook her head, more certain now. "Makeup was strict back then in school. Heavy foundation would have been noticed and sent to the washroom. Even I who loved my lip gloss barely got away with it. She definitely didn’t wear base makeup. She was just... pale and clear."
And just like that, the last piece fell into place with a silent, devastating click.
The flowers. The complete lack of a reaction. The freckles she’d seen dotted across the bridge of Aurora’s nose and cheek, faint but undeniable. The little inconsistencies, the misplaced memories, the sudden athleticism, the changed demeanor that had been quietly gnawing at the edges of Suzy’s mind since the wedding.
They weren’t inconsistencies. They were proof.
Suzy sat back slowly, the world tilting on its axis. Her heart was pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Her bubbly mask didn’t falter. Claire was still watching, curious and suspicious, but inside, everything had locked together into a terrifying, exhilarating certainty.
This woman living in Aurora’s house, wearing Aurora’s clothes, married to Hades...
This wasn’t Aurora.
It had never been.
---
PRESENT DAY.
"So tell me..." Suzy whispered, the words sliding, cold and sharp, between Alice’s ribs and curling around her frantically beating heart. "...if you’re not her, then who in the world are you?"
Suzy asked quietly, the words slicing through the tense silence of the bedroom.
Alice’s throat constricted. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. A lie, any lie, trembled on the tip of her tongue but died before it could form. Suzy’s gaze was too sharp, too knowing. This wasn’t a guess; it was a conclusion.
"I..." The word cracked, fragile and pathetic. Alice forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow and broken. "What are you even saying? Of course I’m—"
"Aurora?" Suzy finished for her, tilting her head with a look of profound pity. "Don’t insult my intelligence. Please."
Alice sealed her lips instantly.
Damn.
At this point, everyone should just gather now and tell her they knew she was lying.
Hardy. Dawin. Suzy.
Maybe the next person would be Hades.
Suzy leaned back slightly against the back of the couch, folding her arms over her chest. Her expression wasn’t harsh or accusatory. Just utterly, unshakably certain. "I don’t know how long you thought you could keep it up. But I always knew something was off. I can start listing the reasons."
Alice’s fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms so hard her knuckles burned white.
"You’re not her," Suzy stated, her voice softening into something almost like understanding, which was far more terrifying than anger. "So let’s not play this game. Tell me the truth. Who are you, really?"
The question hovered in the air between them, patient and inescapable.