Terry fiddled with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t real, of course; nor was the bed on which she sat, or even the bedroom itself, decorated with science models, games, and posters. It was the bedroom she imagined Teri would have had in a different life, and it was the mental refuge she and Teri had retreated to when things got really bad with Tip before the Event.

  “Stupid.” She tossed the Rubik’s cube at the wall. “An imaginary room for an imaginary girl. I’m not even real enough to have my own dreams.”

  She walked over to a poster of Nikola Tesla and ripped it down. Teri’s emotional state was affecting her. And so was Xeke, with his accusations. The way he looked at her—like she was some kind of monster.

  She pushed the thought away. Enough with the pity party. I have work to do.

  This wasn’t the only bed she’d made for herself.

  Laughter echoed through the room. “Little Terry, still trying to prop up the house of cards. When does it end? Why don’t you let it go? You’ll never take the place of her sister no matter what you do.”

  Terry’s eyes darted around the room. “Teresa? How did you … you can’t be in here!”

  “Clearly, you are mistaken. And I have you to thank for it. Every time you change things, a hundred new paths lead to me. I’m getting stronger every day. You can’t keep me caged much longer.”

  “You’re no more real than I am!” Terry said. She threw the crumpled poster aside. “You wouldn’t even exist if it hadn’t been for what I did!”

  “That’s true, and now you’re responsible for everything I do. Xeke was right, you know. You’re the reason Teri has nightmares. But it’s too late stop now, isn’t it?”

  “That’s not ...” Terry’s shoulders slumped. She nodded. “You’re right. It’s too late.”

  “Honesty?” Teresa said. “That’s new. Let’s get down to it. You have a new piece of Teri’s mind for me, don’t you?”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Terry slipped out of the room, threading her way through Teri’s mind and collecting memories. It didn’t take long. She braced herself for the rage that always poured out from Teresa’s cage—but as she approached, Teresa’s voice was still soft.

  “At this rate, I’ll be the greater part of this mind. Then what will you do ... Tabitha?”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? Tabitha. That’s who she made you to be. You can’t escape what you are any more than I can. You’re the broken memory of her dead sister.”

  “You don’t know anything about me,” Terry said.

  “I know everything about you. I know how you feel about Xeke.”

  Terry couldn’t move. “How …”

  “And I know how he feels about you. He loathes you, doesn’t he? And it’s going to get worse when he finds out what you’ve done. You know that, right?”

  “What the hell was I supposed to do?” Terry screamed. “She wasn’t strong enough to face the things Tip did to her. There’s no telling what she’ll do if I don’t fix this. She could kill Xeke, she could kill everyone!”

  “Ah, yes. ‘The greater good.’ Another rationalization. We both know she’s falling apart because of what you’ve done to her, not because of what Tip did.”

  Terry’s face clenched. “What do you know? You’re nothing but hate and nightmares.”

  Teresa laughed. “Is that what you think? Maybe at first. Now, thanks to you, I’m much more than that. Maybe I’m the bigger part of us, and Teri is the shadow. But we’re wasting time. What memory do you have for me today?”

  The nightmare was the easy part; Terry snipped the entire thing out in one piece, but it was all mixed up with another set of memories—the evening Teri spent with Sean.

  There was no way to cut one without the other, so she handed those over, too. She scanned through them as she did, listening to what Sean had said: “We can think of each other when we think of the stars.”

  Terry cried as she took Teri’s love of the stars away from her

  Teresa was silent for a moment. “How far will you go? Love. Friendship. You’ve already given me her relationship with you.”

  “She … she only imagined me when it was bad,” Terry said. “You know that. I didn’t share one moment with her that wasn’t born of agony. There is nothing between us that didn’t start with Tip. Nothing.” She broke down into sobs.

  “I understand,” Teresa said. “I remember every moment you spent with her like they were my own. Because they are. I could never hate you—but look what you’ve done. She’s in pain, and you’ve given me all her strength. She’s a lost cause and you know it. Just let me out and give me what’s left.”

  “But I can’t … that would be … that would be like killing her.”

  “It’s the only way to end her misery. You know it’s true. And it’s the only way to protect Xeke.”