Free Reborn by Aiden James, Lisa Collicutt Page A

different.” She looked down at the picture. “But the eyes.” She lifted the paper and pointed to it. “The eyes are identical.”
    Scarily identical .
    “Can we have a look around?” she asked her aunt.
    “No. I have to get to work.” Melba walked toward the kitchen door, and then looked back. “Solomon.”
    “I’m sorry. I have to go.” I gave Desiree an apologetic look and reluctantly turned away from her.
    But the soft touch of her hand on my wrist stopped me in my tracks. I glanced down my arm at her hand, then to her face, and the desperate look it held. The luster in her eyes brightened. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but didn’t.
    Her desperation worked its way inside me, and I wanted to stay in this moment as much as I felt she did, but Melba called again, her voice a distance away now.
    Desiree lifted her hand from my outstretched arm. She scooped up the papers and shoved them inside her bag, then looked at me, smiling.
    “Well, I hope you find yourself, soon.”
    “Thanks for,” I looked at the empty spot in the center of the table where moments ago my likeness had been, “everything.”
    “Hey, I can wait for you and we can talk more about the infamous Solomon Brandt,” she said, as if it was a headline, “if you like.”
    “Somehow, I don’t think your aunt would approve.”
    “It’s not like she’s your master and you’re her slave, right?”
    She giggled, and I got the feeling that giggle might just have been the first that kitchen had ever seen.
    “Well, no, but she’s done so much for me, and…” And Melba was security. I trusted her, but I wanted more than anything to spend time with Desiree. “She needs my help.”
    A loud crunch of gravel, coming from outside, made both of us turn to the window.
    “Shit,” Desiree said with a look of surprise on her face. “It’s a tour bus.” She flicked her gaze to me. “Someone must have gotten the schedule mixed up.”



ossibly more people than I’d ever seen exited the bus, filling up the parking space. The sounds of their conversations reached the kitchen. Looking as desperate as I felt, Desiree grabbed my hand and pulled me into the hall.
    “Who are those people?” I asked as my heart pounded faster than usual.
    Were they coming for me?
    “Oh, they’re a tour group, but I’m sure they aren’t supposed to be here today, or else Auntie Mel got her dates wrong.”
    We were nearly at the end of the second hallway, far from the grand staircase, when Desiree made a turn to the right and pulled me into an open doorway, which led to a large room, decorated in dark paneling and gold velvet drapes.
    Once inside, I released the tight grip I had on her hand and closed the heavy, six-paneled door behind us.
    The next moment was a blur. Working fast, I reached behind a small statue of a man on a horse, which sat on a table beside the door, opened a small wooden box I found there, and picked out a brass key. With my right hand, I already had the brass key plate slid aside on the door. I slipped the key into the hole and turned it until I heard the click I was waiting for.
    When I turned, Desiree’s wide-eyed gaze met mine.
    “What?” I said.
    Her green eyes looked as if they were about to fall from their sockets, as her hands gripped the straps of her bag, turning her knuckles white.
    I stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”
    “Do you even know what you just did?” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. Her stunned gaze fell to my hand.
    As if just waking from a dream, I looked at the key, still held between my fingers, with the feeling I’d lost something, a recent memory.
    Desiree dropped her bag onto a tapestry-covered sofa and came closer. She took the brass object from my grip and held it up between us.
    “You just dug this key out of its hiding place and unlocked that…” she hesitated, as if considering her next words, “somewhat complicated lock, like a pro.” Then, exhibiting a dubious look, she said,