Chapter 1

Ashley scans back and forth at the papers in front of her when Alex shouts in his high pitched voice from the front of the office, covering the phone in the process, "Ashley! Mrs. Strandall is on the phone."

Not wanting to pull away from her work, Ashley responds from her position, "What does she want?"

"She said Spike got sick and died so she wants another copy."

Ashley drops her pencil on her desk in disbelief. She talks to herself, "I just gave her a copy of Spike a couple days ago. What'd they do to the poor dog?" A few seconds to ponder what to reply with, Ashley yells to Alex, "Tell her I can't make anymore copies. It's in the contract she signed."

Alex plays telephone and delivers the message to Mrs. Strandall. Alex covers the phone once again and says, "She wants to know if she can have a refund."

"No," she speaks curtly and continues on with her paperwork.

Alex works his magic and wards off the lady, leaving her still calm and not screaming through the phone. He slowly hangs up the phone with some hesitation. He warns Ashley, "You know she's going to call back so just prepare yourself."

Ring…ring…

Without bothering to look at the Caller ID, Ashley answers the phone, "Yes Mrs. Strandall?"

A woman answers on the other line, "Hello, can I speak to a Ms. Ashley Davies?"

Ashley responds, "Speaking. How can I help you?"

She speaks solemnly, "I was hoping to get a clone made of my daughter."

Systematically, Ashley grabs an application form from the left drawer in her desk. She clicks a pen against the top of her desk and prepares to write. "Is this for investigational reasons or personal?"

"Personal."

The girl writes it down as the woman speaks. "Is there a known cause of her death?"

"No."

She continues in a singy tone, "Has the body been examined by a coroner?"

"Yes, it has."

She asks in shock, "And they didn't find the cause of her death?"

"No, they didn't."

"Okay. Miss, I'm going to need your number and the date of your daughter's birth and death."

The woman seems to be rustling some papers before she replies, "The number is 946-555-1836 and the date of birth is March 23rd, 1995. Death—September 29, 2019."

Ashley jots it all down on the form. Then she quietly speaks to herself, "Just 24…what could've happened?" She ponders a few seconds and quickly realizes she's still on the phone. "Thank you Miss. One last thing, though. What's your daughter's name?"

The lady chokes up a little, "Spencer. Spencer Carlin."

How was it?