A/N: i'm really sorry that this is a few days late. i have impeccable timing capabilities and horrible late-night grammar (thank god i have a beta because this chapter probably wouldn't have made any sense without her). here's chapter two! let me know what you think!
She doesn't know how long she's been standing there, gaping at the spot where just moments ago, she watched herself fall from sight. She's frozen – paralyzed – with what, she doesn't know. Delphine is feeling so many things at once; she can't give her body the commands to move.
She's suspended in time, a pillar, waiting for the moment when she crumbles to the ground, but it never comes. She's vaguely aware of the puffs of air, leaving her lungs with a tremble, visible in the cold night.
It's only when she hears a cry from below is she brought back to reality.
Her body straightens. A hand clamps over her mouth as she releases a garbled sob of her own. Delphine's eyes sting with tears, her mind suddenly going into overdrive compared to minutes ago, where it had been useless to her.
"Ce… qui la baise…" Delphine whispers, the situation hitting her like a freight train.
"Ce qui la baise," she repeats a little louder this time, hand quivering against her lips.
"Ce qui la baise! What the fuck?!" she shouts, hand returning swiftly to cover her mouth, where she lets out another wracking sob. Tears pour down her cheeks and she drops to her knees, head falling to rest on her palms.
"Ce n'est pas réel," she murmurs. "Ce n'est pas réel. This isn't real. It can't be." She stops to take a breath, watching her tears fall to the concrete beneath her. "What is going on?"
The commotion forming from the street below her brings her from her thoughts, her head snapping up to gaze at the edge once more. Screams of terror travel to her ears and she can't help the way she wants to console them, to tell them it's okay. She's alive; there's nothing to worry about.
"But, that wasn't me…" Delphine lifts a hand tentatively to her cheek, and without a second thought, she slaps herself as hard as she can. She teeters, but the burning pain on her skin only serves to confuse her more.
Doppelganger, she thinks, a doppelganger. People have those. That had to be mine. It's the only explanation.
The sound of vibrations peel her from her thoughts. Her eyes scan the rooftop once more, hand on her cheek to soothe the burn, when her gaze lands upon the woman's belongings.
Delphine scrambles over on her hands and knees, slipping in her haste, pulling the bag into her lap once she's close enough. The bag vibrates on her thighs, and once again she's tearing up.
Her family, Delphine swallows, forcing her lids shut. They have no idea.
Shaking her head, she clutches the purse and picks up the jacket lying next to her feet, although she's not sure what possess her to do so. Scientific curiosity?
She needs to get out of there, and fast.
Standing up takes her longer than she would have liked, her emotions weighing down on her like an anvil, but she manages to wobbly ascend. The dash to the roof exit is not exactly graceful, but she pushes that to the side and sets her sights on getting the hell out of there.
As luck would have it, when Delphine goes to open the door, it's locked.
"Quoi? Non!" She jiggles the handle, but it doesn't budge. She lets go and kicks against it angrily, regretting the action almost instantly as her toes begin to throb.
Faire foutre! Fucking heels.
Disregarding the pain in her foot, she searches for another exit, and to her surprise, finds a ladder on the opposite ledge that seems to lead into an alley. Reaching down to yank off her heels, Delphine races to the metal, peering down over the side.
It's desolate, albeit the few alley cats rummaging around the trash. She tosses her heels down the side, watching as they fall with a splash into an isolated puddle. Merde.
Hearing sirens approaching, Delphine's heart races as she lifts the leather handles of the woman's purse to her mouth and bites down, freeing her hands to reach for the cold metal. What am I doing?
She descends the short distance to a steel platform, following the steps downwards until she appears above another ladder, quickly twisting her body to slide down it.
Her heart seems to beat even faster as her bare feet hit the ground. Delphine stumbles at first, but finds her footing and sets off in search of her heels. She grabs them both in one swoop and she's abruptly overcome with the sensation of asphyxiation. Her hand clutches at her throat, not understanding why it won't take in the air she's greedily sucking down. Delphine's eyes close, and she can't keep the tears at bay this time.
A woman killed herself, in front of her, and she looked just like her.
The waves of horror strike Delphine again and again the longer she holds onto the Doppelganger's purse, but she can't find it in herself to just throw it away, to forget about it and walk away.
Once more, vibrations from within the leather bag bring her back to the moment, and she looks down at the zipper as if it were an alien aircraft. She raises her hand to it, but pulls away before she can lay a finger on it.
C'est seulement un sac à main, Delphine. Only a handbag.
Jerking the zipper open, a bright light momentarily blinds her. Blinking away the spots, she reaches down to grab it.
It's a phone. It's cheap and worn-down. The Nokia phone is adorned with a bright green plastic case and it's vibrating in her palm, the screen reading "incoming call from A."
She doesn't answer it. Delphine lets it go to voicemail. Hitting a button to open up her inbox, she sees there's at least a dozen unopened texts, mostly from G, and one from an R.
"Where are you?" Delphine reads out loud as she clicks to the next one. "I need to talk to you." Next. "Can you talk?" Next. "You need to pick up."
She reads over the rest before setting the phone back inside. As soon as she sets it down, something else begins to vibrate. What?
Shuffling everything around, she finds a wallet along with another cellphone, this one nicer than the previous, with an incoming call from someone named Isaac.
Delphine let's that one go to voicemail too, and tosses it back in the bag. She's leaning back against the wall when she sees shadows pass from her left. Holding her breath, she waits until they pass before turning her attention to the wallet clutched in her right hand.
She wastes no time finding the woman's ID, sliding it carefully from its laminated slot inside the bound leather. With the dim glow from the streetlights, Delphine's just barely able to read the faded writing on the card.
"Juliette Velius," she murmurs before looking at the picture. Her breath catches in her throat as she sees the woman's face – her face – staring right back at her. The blonde hair is pulled to one side, but it's still her - it's Delphine, her face on another woman's identification card. Without a second though, she pulls her own wallet from her back pocket and flips it open, holding her ID up to compare to the other.
The pictures are of the same woman, one with short hair and one with long. The same crooked smile, the same brown eyes, the same freckles; it's uncanny.
Swallowing shakily, Delphine closes her own wallet and stashes away the other, deciding that the longer she wastes poised in a dark alley, the more she feels like she's committing a crime. And she is, isn't she? Isn't this considered grave robbing? Or, in her case, body robbing?
She slides her heels back on, and hoists the bag along with the extra jacket over her shoulder, running out to the street to hail a taxi. She makes it to the first lamp post in sight before a loud crack of thunder erupts from above, rain pouring down almost instantaneously. People rush about her, scurrying to find shelter as Delphine stands there, soaking to the bone in clothes that only make her body feel heavier than it already does.
After a few unsuccessful tries, she finally hails down a cab, climbing into the back and rushing out directions so fast she may as well had been speaking French to the man. She repeats herself more slowly, eventually getting the main to comply, and he tries to make idle chit-chat with her as they cruise down the road, but Delphine isn't cooperating, and he gives up after minutes of Delphine remaining unresponsive.
When they pull up to the apartment complex, Delphine shoves a fifty dollar bill into his hands, not waiting for her change as she pushes open her door and bolts towards the buildings entrance. She manages to get inside as someone leaves, too antsy to reach for her own key, receiving a bewildered look from the young man who holds the door open for her. She offers a rushed courtesy when slipping passed him, and heads for the stairs, not finding it possible to wait for the elevator.
Delphine's body continues to move at full capacity up the several flights of stairs, a burn starting to build in muscles. She reaches her floor in what has to be record time and sprints down the hall, rounding the corner and stopping before her door.
Fumbling with the key in her hand, Delphine can't seem to get it into the hole and half-yells in frustration. She pounds her fist against the sturdy wood, leaning against it as her adrenaline begins to wear off. She's exhausted, she can't get into her own house, and she's holding a dead woman's things in her arms.
Taking a deep breath, she manages to groggily pull herself away from her front door and head down the corridor in search of 29C.
I hope she's still home. Delphine knocks feebly against the wooden barrier, hearing a soft "Coming!" from inside, sighing with relief.
The door opens to reveal a half-dressed Imani. The sweatpants she has on contrast with the tight printed top she has on, and her hair is half pulled back and half curled, make-up wiped clean from her face. Imani had a patient smile when she first answered, but she takes one look at Delphine and her expression twists in concern.
"Delphine, I was just coming to meet…" she trails off as she notices Delphine struggling to stand up straight, leaning heavily against the door frame. "Whoa, are you okay?"
"Non, je ne suis pas bien," Delphine pants, wiping the cold rain water from her forehead. "Do you have a place I can rest for a minute?"
"Oui," Imani responds, gauging a small smile from Delphine. The darker woman leads her over to neon colored bean bags in the center of the room, a stark contradiction to the plainness of her walls and antique coffee table. "No offense or anything, but you look like shit."
"I could only imagine," Delphine sighs, plopping down on the orange seat and sinking down into it, much to her delight.
"What happened?"
Delphine's eyes fly open, watching as Imani steps closer to her with a cautious expression.
"If I explain it to you, you'll think I'm crazy."
"What?" Imani walks over to the pink bean bag, dragging it in front of the one Delphine is in and settling down into it. "Delphine, I'm starting to get worried."
"I saw…" her throat is suddenly dry; she licks her lips subconsciously. "I saw a woman kill herself."
She hears Imani take in a sharp breath, and she cranes her neck up to look at her. She appears as if she might be sick, eyes squeezed shut, her face contorted into a grimace.
"That's not even the half of it," Delphine snickers, shaking her head. Imani looks back at her like she had grown another head.
"Why are you laughing?"
"Because you'll never believe the next part."
"Try me."
Delphine steals a breath. "The woman who killed herself, she looked… exactly like me. Précisément."
Imani just looks back at her in confusion. "Exactly?" Delphine nods. "What do you mean?"
"Look," Delphine tosses the purse into her lap, and Imani's eyes almost bulge out of her head.
"Is this her purse?"
"Oui."
"Delphine! This is, like, hundreds of different types of wrong! What the hell?!"
"Open the wallet and you'll see why I took it."
Imani looks apprehensive at first, but decides to open it anyway. Shaking the water from her fingers, she reaches inside and pulls the wallet out. She opens it up and pulls the ID out, gasping as the wallet falls from her other hand into the purse.
They're silent for a long stretch of time, Imani staring down at the plastic card while Delphine waits for her to react. Suddenly, she's laughing, and Delphine's perplexed.
"This has to be a joke, right?" Imani laughs, making Delphine frown; why was she laughing at her? Her brows furrow as Imani's laughter continues, confusion slowly turning into irritation. "There's no way, dude."
"Ce n'est pas une putain de blague!" Delphine suddenly snaps, words cutting through Imani's laughter like ice, the other girl freezing up instantly. "You think I would joke about this?"
Imani seems at a loss for words. "Well, I just…"
"Why would I joke about a woman killing herself? Imbécile!"
"Whoa, hey!" Imani's quick to defend herself. "Don't call me that!" Her eyes burn with anger, making Delphine regret what flew out her mouth without care. "How am I supposed to react to this, other than thinking it's a fucking joke?! Do you see this picture?"
"Oui."
"It's you!"
"Oui!"
"It's fucking you, Delphine, on another woman's ID with another name and another address!"
"Oui! I told you, you wouldn't believe you!"
"I do believe you!" Imani shouts, but reassesses her surroundings and takes a deep breath t calm herself. "I do believe you, Delphine, I really do. But how do I believe something impossible?"
"I don't know…" Delphine murmurs, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I don't know," she repeats, head shaking from side to side as her tears turn to weak cries. Imani is at her side immediately, holding her head against her chest.
"Delphine, don't cry," she soothes, stroking back the blonde hair plastered to her forehead.
Delphine's cries die out a few minutes later, turning into mere whimpers before she speaks again. "What do I do?"
"Did you go to the police?" Delphine gives her a look. "Okay, yeah, stupid question." Imani looks back to the purse as she speaks. "What else do you know about her?"
Before Delphine can respond, a vibration cuts her off, drawing both women's attention to the handbag discarded on the floor. Imani reaches over and pulls it them, dumping its contents onto the hardwood floor.
The green phone is vibrating against the wood, the other phone lying silently next to it. Imani picks them both up, eyes switching between the two.
"What the fuck? Two phones?"
"I don't understand it, either."
"Have you answered either of them?"
"What?" Delphine whips around to face her. "Non! Absolutely not!"
"Why?"
"Why? Is that even a serious question? Why?" Delphine furrows her brow. "Don't you think whoever would notice that I don't sound like her?"
"You don't know what she sounds like?"
"Non, I only…" she swallows. "I only know what she looks like. I didn't get to do much before I watched her fall…" she trails off, diverting her gaze to the floor.
"Jesus," was Imani's only response. They fall into another silence, the green phone having stopped ringing a while ago.
"What do I do?" Delphine asks timidly, playing with her fingers in her lap.
"Right now, you need sleep," declares Imani, crouching to gather all the debris and shove it back into the purse. "Do you want to stay over? I have a pull out bed." Delphine looks at her with an eyebrow raised. "It's a bed in my couch. I can take off all the cushions and turn it into a bed."
"Oh," Delphine sighs. A part of her wants to go home, but she doesn't think she'll get much sleep at either place.
"Honestly, I'd feel better if you weren't alone tonight." With that, Delphine nods her head with a small smile. "C'mon, I have some old clothes from ex-boyfriends' you can sleep in. We need to get you out of these wet clothes. You feel like ice." She helps Delphine to her feet and takes her jacket, walking back towards the kitchen. "I'll make you some tea and then go grab you something comfortable."
Twenty minutes later and Imani bids Delphine a goodnight, promising to wake her up for class tomorrow. Delphine sits up on the makeshift bed, staring out the window with a hot cup of tea scorching her palms.
"What is going on," Delphine sighs, head hanging forlornly, steam from the cup licking the sides of her face.
The next morning, true to her word, Imani comes down the stairs to wake Delphine up, but the French woman is already up, just lying in bed with her eyes open.
"Hey," Imani greets softly, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. "How'd you sleep?"
"Je ne dormais pas," Delphine whispers apologetically. "I kept seeing her face – my face – falling from the side of the roof every time I closed my eyes."
"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't sleep much either."
"Why would that make me feel better? Now I feel worse."
Imani chuckles. "Nevermind. You want some coffee?"
"Oui, s'il vous plait."
"Alright, well, while I brew us a pot, you better go home and get ready. It'll take maybe twenty minutes before it's done, you'll at least get a change of clothes and your bag. You can do your make-up when you come back." Imani reaches over and squeezes her shoulder affectionately.
"Thank you." Delphine manages to sit up, slower than normal, and grabs her wet clothes from the pile she left them in next to the bean bags the night before. She fishes her key from her pants pocket while walking to the door, leaving Imani's place and heading over to her own.
Her apartment is cold, and Delphine shivers as she steps inside. She puts her wet clothes in the laundry room and heads up the stairs to fetch a clean (and preferably warm) outfit. She settles on a white sweater and plain jeans, snatching her pea coat from off her mattress and grabbing a pair of flats. She strips down and walks to the bathroom for a quick shower, stopping to take notice of her reflection in the mirror.
There are dark circles under her eyes, eyes that are still swirling with emotions Delphinecan't quite place. Her skin looks pale and clammy, her lips chapped with her mouth curved down slightly in a frown.
She pulls herself away to hop in the shower, which she manages to take in less than ten minutes, and steps out, patting herself dry with a white fluffy towel. She puts on her clothes quickly, walking into the next room to grab her messenger bag with all of her necessities: laptop, previous lab notes, transfer papers, pens and sticky-notes. She deposits her phone, house key and wallet into her bag's outer pocket, slinging it over her shoulder and leaving the apartment slowly.
Imani's waiting for her at the kitchen counter, an extra cup of coffee next to her, and the two women sit in silence until it's time to leave.
Delphine's sitting at her station, eye on the ocular lens of her microscope, but not really observing the sample in front of her. Her mind keeps wandering back to previous night, the woman, the crying, and the splattering sound of-
Delphine sits up straight, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Pas maintenant, Delphine," she chastises herself quietly. "Pas maintenant."
She hears a loud thud, followed by a whispered "shit" from her left. Delphine cocks her head to the side, seeing the top of someone's dreads as they crouch on the other side of the desk.
"Is everything okay?" Delphine implores, spinning around in her chair to fully face the stranger.
"Yeah, it's cool, I just dropped my – hey!" The girl looks at her and her face breaks into a stunning grin. "Delphine!"
"Cosima?" Delphine asks a little bewildered.
"Yeah, hey! Hi!" Cosima's smile widens. "When I thought we'd run into each other, I didn't think it'd be so soon."
Delphine finds herself returning Cosima's smile with ease. "Me neither."
Cosima glances quickly at Delphine's untouched pile of papers before locking eyes with her again. "You stuck on something?"
"Non, it's just… I can't focus."
"Ah, first day jitters getting the best of you?"
Delphine forces, what she hopes to be, a believable smile as she nods somberly, but Cosima doesn't looked convinced.
"Everything okay?"
"Yes," Delphine pauses before puffing out some air, blowing stray hairs out of her eyes. "Actually, non, not exactly."
"What's up?" Cosima grabs her chair and rolls it in front of Delphine's desk, plopping down ungracefully. She leans forward on her elbows; Delphine blushes from her sudden closeness.
"It's just, um…"
"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry," Cosima waves her hand dismissively at herself. "You don't know me very well – at all, actually. You don't need to tell me what's going on. Totally overstepped my boundaries."
"Non, je ne me dérange pas," she blushes more and grins when Cosima's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Sorry. I meant that I don't mind. It was nice of you to be concerned."
Cosima's smile is bashful, tongue pressing against her teeth as she dips her head. Delphine feels her heart do a tiny leap.
"I went out for a drink last night, and-"
"Did some guy try to hit on you?" Cosima interrupts, rolling her eyes. "Ugh, I hate that, man. It's just like, 'Hey, buddy, you're cute and all, but I'm trying to enjoy my drink, here.' It's a total pain in the ass."
"No, nothing like that," Delphine chuckles quietly. "I was at Artist's Quarter last night, and…" she trails off, Cosima's eyes flash in knowing.
"Oh, man, were you there when the girl jumped?"
Delphine could only nod.
"She fell right on her face. They couldn't tell who she was; the fall smashed her skull into something unrecognizable." Cosima watched Delphine draw back into herself, so she reached out to place a comforting hand on her forearm. "Wow, I'm not helping you at all this morning. I'm so sorry, Delphine. Did you… Did you see it happen?"
"Yes," Delphine breathed out. "Oui, I saw her."
"I can't imagine how you're feeling."
"I didn't sleep last night."
"Really? I couldn't tell. You look beautifully refreshed," Cosima tries to lighten the mood, and despite her growing sadness, Delphine smiles meaningfully, cheeks reddening.
"Merci."
"Aha, I understood that one," Cosima says through a crooked grin. "I have to get back to my lab, but what would you say if I asked you out for a coffee when you get out later today?"
"Today?" Delphine asked, eyes wide.
"Is today no good?"
Delphine suddenly finds herself growing nervous. She's never been the nervous type. "No, no, it's good, it's just… I… my neighbor promised to go take me furniture shopping, since my apartments bare, and-"
"It's cool, I understand," Cosima cuts her off with a casual grin.
"But I would still love to go out for coffee with you," Delphine rushes out, cheeks turning an even darker shade of crimson at the amused expression on Cosima's face.
"Okay, well, do you have some paper and a pen? I'll give you my number."
"Oui!" Delphine doesn't move for a second, then shakes her head and searches around for a pen and sticky note. "Oui, yes, I have some," she mutters to herself, finding them in her bag and handing them over to Cosima. She scribbles her name and number down onto the paper and hands it back to Delphine, her script elegantly messy.
"Call me when you have some free time, okay?" Cosima smiles and pats Delphine's desk, pushing herself back around to her own desk and giving Delphine a warm grin.
Delphine manages to get back to work that day, in a better mood than when she came to class that day.
"What's that smile for, Delphine?" Imani bumps her shoulder with a smirk as the two walk to Imani's car in the parking garage.
"It's nothing," Delphine waves her off, but her slight blush gives her away.
"It's not nothing. I know that look." They get to Imani's car, but the other girl moves in front of Delphine's door before she has a chance to open it. "Spill."
Delphine sighs, seeing as how Imani won't budge unless she tells her. "I met someone. Well, actually, ran into. I met her at the airport when I first got here."
"Her?" Imani raises an eyebrow in amusement, and for a moment Delphine can't breathe. But Imani smirks playfully, and Delphine visibly relaxes. "Chill, I'm not a homophobe."
"I didn't say-"
"You didn't have to. It was written all over your face." Imani chuckles. "So, what's her name?"
"Cosima."
"Pretty," Imani nods in approval. "Is she as pretty as her name suggests?"
"Oui, she is… quite beautiful." Her smile is shy.
"Aw, Delphine," Imani shoves her playfully. "So, what happened?"
"She asked me out for coffee."
"And?" Imani's eyes widen in a childlike interest, ready to tease her friend.
"I told her I was busy today."
"What? Why?"
Delphine raises an eyebrow in befuddlement. "What do you mean, 'why'? You are taking me to the furniture store today, are you not?"
"You could have totally blown me off to have coffee with this girl!"
"That would have been rude."
"If you had told me why, I wouldn't have cared."
"But I got her number instead?"
Imani's lips morph into a Cheshire cat-like grin. "Oh, better. Way better. Have you texted her yet?"
"Non."
"You're slow. Here, give me your phone."
"Quoi? Pourqoui?"
"I'll text her for you."
"I am perfectly capable of texting Cosima myself."
"But you haven't yet, have you?" Delphine looks off to the side, lip tucked between her teeth. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Hand it over."
Delphine stares down at Imani's outstretched hand before sighing in defeat. She reaches down in her jacket pocket for her phone, but instead, her blood runs cold at the unfamiliar object.
"What?"
Delphine lifts the lime green phone from her pocket.
"Merde," Delphine's eyes widen in horror. "I grabbed the wrong one!"
"Christ. Okay, well, I'll wait, just run back up and swi-"
She's cut off by a loud chiming tone as the phone rings in Delphine's hand.
"That thing is a serious pain in the ass."
"Oui."
"Answer it."
"Quoi? Êtes-vous fou?"
"No, I'm not. Just do it." They stare at each other, Imani's gaze unwavering. "Whoever it is won't stop until you do."
"But I don't sound like her!"
"You could. How's your American accent?"
"Horrible!"
The phone stops ringing, but picks back up again seconds later.
"Just do it," Imani says, ripping the phone from Delphine's hand and clicks answer. Delphine glares back at her as she holds the phone to her ear.
"Hello?" A woman prompts on the other end. Delphine remains silent. "Hello? Juliette? Are you there?" Her voice holds such an affectionate familiarity, one that reminds Delphine of her mother, and she paralyzed again.
"Is someone there?" Imani mouths. Delphine nods in response. "Say something."
"Hellooooo?" The woman continues, and Delphine can't stand it. She snatches the phone from Imani's hand and presses end faster than lightning.
Imani stares at her incredulously. "Dude!"
"There was a woman…"
"Why didn't you talk to her!?"
"She… I… I couldn't."
"Why not?" Imani tries to grab the phone again, but Delphine moves it away.
"She sounded so… relieved and… motherly. I couldn't…"
"Oh, man," Imani's expression turns somber. "Do you think it was her mom?"
"Non," Delphine shakes her head. "It was labeled as "A". But, it had to have been someone she was close to. Like a friend or lover."
"This is getting weird," Imani rubs her temple.
"Getting?"
"Okay, this is weird. Like, Stephen King fucking weird. I don't like it."
"Me neither."
Delphine walks through an abandoned playground with two coffees in hand, no one else in sight. Imani was talking with the men at the store when she noticed Delphine getting antsy/restless/bored/insert-word-here, and asked for to grab them some coffees. Delphine was grateful for distraction, her mind kept wandering back to the woman on the phone.
She decided to take a longer route back to the store, so she took a turn at down an alley and found herself at this playground. Bits of snow crunch beneath her feet as she makes her away around the swing set, watching them sway in the mild breeze.
"Juliette!" Someone calls, stopping Delphine in her tracks. "Juliette!" They repeat, and Delphine can feel her heart begin to race.
She hears footsteps approaching her from behind, but she can't make her body move.
"Juliette," the voice is closer now, thick with an accent, sounding out of breath as they come closer and closer. Delphine hears them wheeze.
"Juliette," the person places a hand on Delphine's shoulder and spins her around.
Delphine drops the coffees to the ground.
It's her… again. Herself.
Nouveau?!
The woman who stands before Delphine looks incredibly sickly, eyes sunken into her head and bloodshot, skin pale and sweaty, mouth tinted a dark red, her dyed auburn hair sticking to her forehead. The woman turns her head to cough into a tissue, spitting out bits of what look like…
Blood.
Delphine jumps back.
"Juliette, it's me!" The woman sputters, blood staining her lips. Her accent is thick, something foreign. Delphine's too frightened to think about it.
"Éloignez-vous!" Delphine shouts, scrambling backwards, losing her footing and falling into a pile of mulch. The woman looks at her with a strange expression.
"When did you learn French?" The woman asks, a panicked look slowly creeping up onto her features.
"Who are you?" Delphine's heart races in her chest as the woman takes a step towards her. "Éloignez-vous! I said stay back!"
"Juliette, it's me," the woman's eyes water. "It's me, Gisela! Gisela Klein! Reese said you would help me! I need to speak with your scientist friend!"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Delphine shouted back. She looks around for an escape, spotting Imani's car round the counter. She's sighs in relief but becomes frigid once more as she looks up at the other Doppelganger. "Leave me alone!"
"I need your help! You said-"
"Je ne sais pas qui vous êtes! Laissez-moi tranquille!" Delphine pushes herself back up, and Gisela clamps down onto her shoulders, eyes hardening into something unreadable.
"Just one, I am a few. No family too. Who am I?"
"Quoi?" Delphine shoves her back. "How the hell should I know?!"
"You're not Juliette…" The woman states, eyes glazing over in betrayal. "You're not Juliette!" She shouts, moving swiftly to follow Delphine, coughing into her bloodied rag. "Where is Juliette?" She grabs ahold of Delphine's jacket, spinning her around to face her again.
Delphine manages to spot Imani exiting her car and quickly making her way over to the two of them before she's spun around again. In an act of desperation, she goes to shove the woman away once more, but a loud noise from afar freezes her as something splashes across her face, the woman going slack in her arms as they tumble to the ground.