Imitation by Heather Hildenbrand Read Free Book Online Page B

did? Amazing. I am such a huge
fan. Would you mind signing this for me?”
    She shoves a pen and paper at me
expectantly. The boy she is with hangs back. His hands are stuffed
into his pockets and he is staring at some spot on the wall. Gus
wanders away, clearly not considering the young couple a threat.
Titus has already pushed the button for the elevator. I look to him
for direction but he isn’t paying attention any longer.
    When I look back at the girl, she is
still smiling and waiting. On impulse, I grab the pen and scribble
Raven Rogen on the paper and shove it back at her. As if taking a
cue, the boy straightens and lifts a small camera. The girl wraps
an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, and the camera
clicks. It’s over before I can even pose.
    “ Thank you so much,” she
gushes, folding the paper carefully around my name.
    I try for haughty or at least
impatient when I say, “No problem,” and walk away.
    Across the lobby, the elevator dings,
and I hurry to catch it. Gus holds the door while Titus waits
inside, his foot tapping. Once inside, I turn around and look for
the two teens but the lobby is empty. They are already
gone.
    The elevator ride is silent. I focus
on who I am—her, not me—and when the doors open I smile widely,
donning the mask.
    The first thing I notice is the music.
I cannot see where it comes from but it is floaty and wistful in a
way that makes my heart ache. Music in Twig City is rare, mostly
children’s songs and lullabies. Nothing like this.
    I wander toward the sound, smiling and
nodding at men and women in dark suits who do the same for me. No
one approaches and I have the sense this is more Titus’s crowd than
mine. No one here is my age.
    I am disappointed to realize after two
laps around the apartment that the music is only being poured in
through overhead speakers. Instead of turning back, I choose an
empty hallway, taking in the sight of the expensive art mixed among
fancy molding. Muted conversations float up from the party I’ve
left behind. It’s an almost enjoyable atmosphere, being here but
being apart somehow. The doors I pass are mostly closed but a few
are cracked, inviting those who seek privacy. I am curious to find
out what goes on in those rooms but too scared at what I’d find if
I looked.
    Female laughter bubbles out of a room
as I pass, light and airy and Authentic. Before I can turn toward
the sound, someone grabs me from behind. I spin quickly, terror and
surprise mingling. Any noise I could’ve made sticks in my throat at
the sight of Linc. He is dressed in black slacks and a pressed
white shirt. It is more formal than yesterday’s ensemble of denim
and cotton. I suppose he is trying to blend in here.
    “ What are you doing back
here?” he demands.
    “ I was … looking for the
music,” I say. He is standing close enough that I catch the scent
of something man-made, some sort of cologne on him. Mixed with the
outdoorsy smell that seems to be his signature, it distracts me. I
feel my face heat when I realize he’s begun to notice my
reaction.
    He drops my elbow. “It’s not safe to
wander alone.”
    “ I’m not alone. There are
people everywhere,” I say.
    “ Exactly.”
    I pause, understanding his meaning.
Someone here—even in this elite crowd—could have it out for me.
Before I can form a response, the trilling laughter comes again
from the room behind me, followed by my name.
    “ Raven! There you
are!”
    A petite blond appears in the doorway
and I feel Linc move away from me. She is smiling brightly at me
and completely ignoring him. I recognize her from the albums.
Taylor. She is Raven’s—my—best friend.
    “ Taylor,” I say. It comes
out breathy because I am relieved to remember something this
important when I am still reeling about the danger I must be in
even now.
    She inspects me critically and I
freeze. “You look … better than I expected. How’s your head? I
didn’t expect you out so soon.”
    “ My