Chapter One
Delphine sat in the airport, fidgeting with her bags. The clock in the corner sounded off each second with obnoxiously loud retorts of its hands, and the chatter around her was beginning to overwhelm her.
She craved the silence to think, but she also needed to scream.
Time was running out, as the clock so obviously pointed out. She'd received a text from Sarah at two o'clock in the morning, simple and to the point.
She's asking for you.
Nothing else, but that was all Delphine needed. She'd been trying to get back to Cosima since the moment she stepped into that airport. Running through excuses. Eying the tail that Rachel had so obviously set up to make sure that she followed through.
She got up and walked over to one of the little kiosks waiting at the edge of the room and scanned the menu of overly expensive airport food.
Nothing on it sounded edible, and she turned away, ignoring the hopeful eyes of the pimpled man leaned up against the counter.
Overhead, the loudspeaker crackled for a second, and then a generic voice overhead declared that boarding had started.
Sarah was crouched next to Felix's old bed, which had turned into a sort of hospital bed with undertones of a death bed, holding Cosima's hand lightly. The transformation as her sickness progressed had set in quickly, stripping her of much-needed body fat, color, and strength. A live skeleton that had once been her twin struggled to breathe through a mask provided by Scott. The cannula had long since proven to be ineffective against the buildup of fluids in her lungs.
If only she had any small grain of the knowledge that Cosima possessed—she had been close to something when her ragged state turned comatose—she could have continued Cosima's work. Or at least understood it. Scott was still working, but he had to be careful. Rachel had it out for them, and they were all lying low out of necessity.
Sarah sighed. "Delphine's coming." She told Cosima—hadn't she heard somewhere that people in comas could still sometimes hear you? "She's hurrying, Rachel's men have made it hard for her to find a way, but we pulled some strings. Or, Mrs. S did. I'm mostly just useless these days." She barked out a low laugh and set Cosima's hand down carefully. She a life-sized doll, always needing to be put back just right. Tucked away in bed, covers up to guard against the shudders that had wracked her body up until the last two days. The stillness was even more worrying.
Felix had come up behind her and he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You're doing as much as you can, Sarah. No one's blaming you for what you can't do."
Oh, but they were. Not outwardly, maybe not even consciously. But once Beth had died and Sarah had filled in her position in the clone club's inner circle, she had become a leader. And once Cosima became too weak to help her out, she became the leader. Allison stopped in with her worried titters and coughs, and Felix hovered to offer support. But Helena was gone and Cosima was dying, and all the weight had locked itself onto Sarah's shoulders.
She wouldn't voice that, though. Instead she smiled thinly at Felix and stood up.
"Yeah, 'course Fe." She shrugged off his hand and retreated to the couch, where Kira had passed out. The entire apartment was all changed around. Allison had brought in flowers that were now wilting in their vases, Kira's things were scattered around. The bedroom area was a mass of wires and tubes and beeping machines that cut through what would otherwise have been silence.
Kira shifted in her sleep and Sarah brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen in her face. She tried to figure out what she would say to Kira to tell her that Cosima hadn't made it.
She pretended like she didn't have to, that Cosima would jump out of bed the next morning and Helena would reappear, and there could be a happy reunion when Delphine flew in.
But the only person who could truly be swept away on a wave of innocent wishing was Kira, still slumbering in her lap.