Imitation by Heather Hildenbrand Read Free Book Online Page A

out.
    Titus waits for us by the elevator. He
is dressed in a dark suit that shines with newness. It makes his
shoulders appear wider, his chest broader than it seemed last
night. I wonder if he’s trying to look taller or if it’s an
unintentional side effect of the fabric’s cut. He doesn’t seem the
type to need cosmetic reassurances. My heels leave the soft carpet
and make a click-click against the heavy marble. Titus looks up and
gives me a once-over that tightens my knuckles.
    Like before, I have the urge to speak
up, to rail against the injustice of his ultimatum: be her, or die.
But the look he gives me freezes my tongue. I don’t know what he is
capable of and the possibilities scare me.
    He gives a barely perceptible nod
indicating I pass his inspection and then presses the button for
the metal box that will take us out of here.
    My heart thumps wildly and it’s more
than my nerves at seeing Titus. I am leaving my prison. Even if
it’s only to be transported from one cage to another, the idea of
being outside for any length of time is too appealing to ignore.
The idea of riding in an automobile again, even sandwiched between
Gus and Titus, has adrenaline pumping through me. I am caught up in
thinking words like “freedom” and “fresh air” when I hear Gus
speaking to Titus in a low voice.
    “… Assessed the threat
level for the vicinity. There are vulnerabilities—”
    “ That’s exactly what we
want,” Titus cuts in. “The more vulnerabilities, the quicker
they’ll try again. Just have the men ready to counter. I want them
alive. I want names.”
    Gus’s mouth tightens. “Yes,
sir.”
    They glance my way, but I pretend to
be fully engaged in adjusting my shoe. The elevator bell dings and
the doors slide open. I step inside behind them and stare straight
ahead without a sound. I am no longer thinking about fresh air and
getting outside. I am thinking about how my dress will look stained
with my blood. And whether satin sheets are worth whatever—or
whoever—is coming for me.
    The entire car ride over, Titus’s mood
is heavy, a reminder of what is expected when the car stops and the
doors open. Neither of us speaks. There’s nothing more to say
unless I live.
    Our journey is made up of short bursts
of speed and frequent stops at red lights. By the time we arrive,
the excitement of being inside a car—even a car as nice as this
one—has dulled. I pile out between Titus and Gus and follow them to
the main entrance.
    Streetlights illuminate every corner
of the otherwise darkened sidewalks. There is a fair amount of
hustle and bustle on the sidewalk, though this group is dressed
more extravagantly than any I saw on my trip into the city. I
suspect it must have something to do with evening apparel being
fancier than daywear.
    When I reach the entrance, a man in a
gray jacket holds the door and nods as I pass through. “Miss
Rogen,” he says.
    “ Thank you,” I murmur,
trying hard to sound like I don’t mean it.
    Titus and Gus walk behind
me and I am so focused on being her that I do not see them coming until they’ve
almost reached me. A boy and a girl, both redheads, approach me at
a speed that has me pulling up short. Terror grips me. Gus is at my
elbow in an instant, tugging me back a step.
    When I catch sight of the girl, an
instant of recognition sweeps over me. She reminds me of Lonnie,
the way she moves, the way she carries herself with utter
confidence. But then I focus on her features and the resemblance
dissolves. Her hair, the freckles on her cheeks—it is not like
Lonnie at all.
    “ Hi there,” the girl says
with a bright smile. “You’re Raven Rogen, right?” Her attention
shifts from me to Gus to Titus and back again. She pushes on
without waiting for confirmation. “My cousin lives in this building
and I heard you might come tonight. I would just love to get your
autograph and maybe your picture. I mean, I follow your fundraising
projects. That orphanage rebuild you