On the laptop, Alma remained curled on the sofa.
Brooks updated me.
“The team is almost there.”
“What if she’s hurt?”
“They will take care of her.”
At 3:17 p.m., Ava’s car pulled into the driveway.
She came through the door carrying grocery bags.
“Victor?” she called.
The officers stepped out.
Ava froze.
For one second, her face became completely blank.
Then she dropped the bags and ran.
She made it three steps before an officer caught her.
She screamed.
Not in fear but in rage.
“Leave me alone! Leave me alone!”
I stood in the kitchen doorway.
“Why would you do that to your twin sister, Ava?” I asked.
“I’m not Ava! I’m Alma!” She screamed.
“No, you’re not,” I replied calmly.
She stopped fighting.
Her eyes found mine.
Then she laughed.
It was Alma’s face.
But it was not Alma’s laugh.
“You finally figured it out.”
Detective Brooks read her rights.
Ava laughed.
“He didn’t even notice at first.”
I wanted to hit her.
Instead, I gripped the doorframe.
“The police are already at your house,” I said.
Her smile vanished.
For the first time, she looked afraid.
“You found her?”
“You really thought I wouldn’t?”
“You were supposed to believe I was her. To live with me. To love me.”
