Imitation Read Free Page A

Ida’s lectures.
    I don’t know what will happen once I’m
inside Marla’s office. I have a bad feeling, though I can’t name
it. It’s foreign to me. Like fear, only worse. It leaves my throat
dry until I can no longer swallow.
    The door reopens. Gerta reappears.
“Follow me, please,” she says.
    She turns on her heel and leads me
back to Marla’s office. As I pass, the two men continue to stare
straight ahead as if they don’t see me.
    Marla rises as I enter. I have half a
mind to tell her not to bother, since the effort of heaving herself
upright seems to drain her of oxygen. She leans with both palms on
the desk to assist her knees in pushing herself to full height. By
the time I’ve crossed the room to stand in front of her, she is
winded. Her ample chest swells and retracts a dozen times before
she speaks to me.
    “ Ven, thank you for
coming,” she huffs.
    I can’t bring myself to say “you’re
welcome.” Not when it’s so untrue.
    “ Have a seat,” she
adds.
    We both sit. I clasp my hands together
in my lap to keep them still. The room is large, which is probably
helpful for the occupant. The walls have been painted what was
likely a lavender color but it’s faded into something like dirty
fog. A bookcase brimming with hardback manuals line one wall. A
giant tapestry that looks like some sort of flag covers the wall
behind the desk. There are no windows.
    I think of how many of us have passed
through this doorway on a one-way trip to I-don’t-know-where. My
stomach lurches.
    Marla is oblivious. She is staring
most interestedly at a stack of papers on her desk. She makes
clucking noises while she reads. I try to decipher how badly my
death will hurt based on the sounds.
    Finally, she looks up at me. “Ven,”
she says, setting the papers down and folding her hands over them.
“I’ve called you here today for a very specific and unfortunate
reason.”
    My heart seizes, skips three beats,
then starts again.
    Marla is waiting for me to say
something. “Mmm,” I say without opening my lips.
    “ Something has happened to
your Authentic.”
    I sit quietly, incapable of sound or
response. It’s everything I dread. I am finished. Ida was
wrong.
    “ I’m sure you’ve been told
your Authentic is well off?” she continues.
    A full thirty seconds pass before I
manage a nod.
    “ She and her family are
prominent figures in their community. Recently, she began receiving
threats and last night, there was an attempt on her life. Her
family has decided to send her to a safe place to wait out the
storm. They’ve requested you come and take her place until the
danger has passed.”
    I stare at Marla, positive I’ve heard
her wrong.
    “ You want me
…?”
    “ To go and live in your
Authentic’s house. Pretend you are her. Take her place. It’s what
you’ve been grown for, dear.” Marla’s voice is compassionate but
firm. This is not a request. It’s also not termination.
    “ When?” I ask.
    “ Now,” she says. “There is
a car waiting outside. I realize much of this will come as a shock.
Usually, we take more time to brief you, to prepare you for the
outside. This is all very last-minute due to the sensitive nature
of the circumstances.”
    I understand the layers to what she is
saying—and not saying. “You don’t want people to know about the
danger she’s—I’m in, do you?”
    “ That, and we want to make
sure you’re safe. We’d hate for something to happen to you before
you even reach your destination.”
    “ Of course,” I manage. My
hands go cold. I realize I’ve not been brought here to die at all.
I’m being sent away for it.
    “ The men outside will
escort you,” she goes on, studying my face.
    “ What about once I get
there?” My voice is scratchy and dry. I try to swallow but there’s
no moisture.
    “ The man you are going to
live with has a full security team. They will protect you and make
sure nothing happens.” She smiles, a gesture I assume is meant