The stewardess starts to avoid me after my fourth vodka. But it's a long flight and I have no plans to spend it sober. After I'd agreed to go, Dee gave me a passport, driver's licence, and a credit card. "I pay for this credit card", she said, "So please don't abuse it." I'm not sure she'd agree that ten dollar a pop vodkas don't count as abuse.

I'm not sure if it's my imagination or some sort of placebo effect (which I guess is technically my imagination too but whatever), but I think I'm getting drunk faster. My head already feels a bit fuzzy and there's a definite warmth in my stomach. Guess this new liver has some breaking in in it.

Dee had walked me to the terminal and almost seemed emotional when it came time to part. She took my shoulders in her hands and looked at me. And I mean looked. It's weird the things you forget about when you're alone most of the time. Eye contact becomes much more meaningful and, dare I say it, intimate. I think she might have been about to cry, but she controlled herself rather quickly. "Okay", she breathed, "You're doing a good thing, Ciara." I'm about to interrupt her to tell her I fucking know but she cuts me off. "No, I mean it. You've been fucked over and you're bitter. You have every right to be. Just promise me, whatever happens next, just remember that you're brave. You're selfless. You're doing the right thing. No matter how crazy and scary things might get, remember that you can do it."

Her words echo in my head as I fall asleep. You can do it.

I must have been more worn out from the surgery than I thought, because when I wake up, everybody is leaving the plane. I find myself standing outside the main exit from the airport, realising that I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now I'm here. I'm kind of hoping some guy wearing a fancy suit will pull up in a limo, walk towards me with a sign that reads 'Saint Ciara', but apparently that's just too much to ask.

I take a swig from one of the bottles I got in the duty free. I even put it in a brown paper bag. Makes me feel like I'm in a movie. I decide I'll just sit down against the wall and hope someone will come along.

I use the time to think about how much my life has changed in the past day. This is absolutely insane. I suddenly realise how utterly ridiculous this is. Did I really just fly across the Atlantic because some woman who says she knows my past fed me some crazy story about how I need to save a person's life? And not just a person. A clone. I must have still been high on meds from the surgery. But she did give me her credit card. Paid for a flight. Why would she do that if she wasn't telling the truth?

My thoughts are interrupted by an exclamation from my left, "Ciara!". I don't even have to ask who it is. Anywhere abroad, an Irish accent sticks out like a sore thumb. "Siobhan.", I reply.

Siobhan is looking at me like I've just risen from the dead, although I guess for her I might as well have. I don't say anything, just look her up and down. She's wearing a leather jacket, which annoys me because it makes her look cool. She's got fierce eyes and unruly black hair. She's not smiling, and I get the feeling that isn't strange. Her hands are stuffed into the pockets of her jeans. She looks me up and down, obviously unimpressed, and I bristle. I try to smile but end up just gritting my teeth at her, and I squeeze out, "Looks like your prodigal has returned."

I'm sitting in the passenger seat of some god awful pick up truck, staring sullenly through the windscreen at the unfamiliar surroundings before me. I don't even ask where we're going. I don't care.

Siobhan sighs and finally breaks the silence, "I had hoped I would never meet you again." Her words hit me in the gut, and I feel like someone's actually knocked the wind out of me. I swallow my hurt, replying, "Thanks, Mother Theresa, I'll be sure next time someone abandons me to never show my face around them again." There's a catch in my throat on the 'again', so I chug from my baggie. Siobhan looks at me in disgust. I tell her to fuck off. To my surprise, she laughs. "Ah", she says, "There's a bit of life in you yet." I suppress a smile. I decide it's time to test this whole thing out.

"Tell me my story.", I say, and listen to her tell the exact same story Dee told me. Siobhan raises her eyebrows, "Well, did we pass?". I snort and shake my head incredulously. Thankfully, she seems to realise I can't exactly verbalise anything right now, so she continues talking. "You'll get used to it. The insanity of it all. Pretty soon you'll be hearing all these crazy things, and they'll go down easier than a cup of tea after a long day." She eyes the brown bag. "Or maybe a whiskey in your case."

I finish the bottle and pull it out of the bag, showing Siobhan the label. "Vodka.", I tell her, "Although I wouldn't turn down a bit of whiskey." She rolls her eyes and mutters, "I doubt there's much you'd turn down." I elbow her and wink suggestively. "Why, what are you offering?" She laughs a little at that, and it makes me feel better. I've always liked to make people laugh, especially when I'm feeling uncomfortable. It's pretty hard for there to be tension when you're laughing.

Slowly, we pull to a stop. "We're here.", Siobhan says, and moves to open the door. "Wait!", I blurt out, sounding more panicky than I'd like, "If here is where I think here is, then I'm not sure here is exactly what I'm ready for right now." Siobhan turns back to me and asks, "And where do you think 'here' is?" I raise my hands, moving my fingers in a quotation mark gesture, "Clonetown.", I whisper, widening my eyes. Siobhan smirks, then looks at me more softly than I would have thought she was capable of. My joking nature has evaporated and I can feel my hands shaking. I run them through my hair in a failed attempt to distract from the fact. Siobhan seems to be weighing what she's about to say next very carefully. She looks away from me and says quietly, "You don't have to be so nervous. They're your family now." I close my eyes to hide my tears and take a few, shaky breaths before replying, "That's what I'm afraid of."