Imitation by Heather Hildenbrand Read Free Book Online

maid—whose name I’ve overheard from other staff is
Maria—going over the correct order in which to use my silverware
and how to place my napkin properly. These are all things I learned
during my first year in Twig City but Titus insists I be put
through a refresher course.
    I am told by the security guard on
duty that Titus watches from a hidden security feed, and throughout
my lessons the back of my neck burns with the knowledge. It is
exhausting and mind-numbing how serious they take social etiquette,
but I know it will mean the difference between being me and being
her tonight. In other words, the difference between survival and
termination.
    Not that anyone would suspect
differently. The world at large knows nothing of Imitations. Not
unless you’re rich enough to afford one yourself. We are the
ultimate in genetically engineered secrets.
    At seven, Maria ends her lessons and
leads me back to my room. She goes straight to the closet,
examining my dresses with solemn scrutiny. She does not speak of
anything personal, nor does she seem to care for my company, but
she is not disdainful like the rest of the staff. Like Linc
is.
    I haven’t seen him today.
Earlier, I swore I heard his voice in the hall, but he never showed
himself. I don’t think I want him to. I know it is all a reflection
on her , but it is
daunting nonetheless to know that everyone I meet hates me even
before I open my mouth. I haven’t even left the house yet. What
does the rest of the world think of Raven Rogen?
    Maria thumbs through waves of fabric
and stops on a purple halter-top gown. The skirt is layered with
gauzy fabric that reminds me of tissue paper. “This one,” she says,
shoving it at me.
    “ Are you sure?” I ask,
eyeing the tiny swath of fabric that will clothe my torso. It
doesn’t seem to be enough to cover all that I’m used to
covering.
    She looks at me quizzically, and I
remember I’m supposed to want to wear this sort of thing. “I’m
sure. Mr. Titus will approve,” she says.
    I force flippancy into my words and
say, “Good. I’ll get changed.”
    She regards me for another moment and
then leaves without another word. I don’t exhale until the door
clicks shut behind her. For once, when the lock twists, I am
relieved.
    The dress is short in the front with a
tail of gauze flowing down the back. The gym shorts I wore in Twig
City were longer than the front of this dress. I stare at myself in
the full-length mirror and pretend this is exactly the sort of
thing I want to be seen in. But my skin feels so exposed I might as
well be naked. It’s more than my body … I feel as if they’ll see
all the way through to the secrets I keep.
    I was created to keep secrets. I am a
secret.
    It shouldn’t bother me so much but it
does. I’ve never admitted it to a single person—not my examiner,
not even Lonnie or Ida—but I am not nearly as accepting of my
intended purpose or fate as they’d like me to be. I wasn’t certain
of it then, when it was just an abstract idea of something that
hadn’t happened yet. And I’m not certain now, when it’s such a
stark reality that each passing second feels like a grain of sand
lost inside an hourglass. It is all a countdown to the end
now.
    I was created a copy. I want more than
anything to be an original.
    The only move I have is forward,
though, and so I continue to dress and ready myself. If I can pull
off tonight, I’ll live until tomorrow. It’s not much but it’s all I
have. For some reason, this line of thinking makes me angry. I let
it, knowing anger is much more effective than fear for all I have
to do tonight.
    The purple heels I wear only serve to
raise the hem another half an inch and I growl in frustration. The
lock slides free and the door opens. Gus pokes his head in and his
eyes land on mine through the reflection in the mirror.
    “ It’s time,” he says,
swinging the door wider to allow me passage.
    I slide my arms into the jacket he
offers and walk