The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller (24 page)

Epilogue

One year later

Darcy wrapped herself in a woolen scarf and stepped out of her apartment. The edge of her boots met the street. The small Victorian lamp near her apartment door was lit. Darcy walked past the lamp, crossing the apartment building.

She gazed at the sky. It was dark. October was here. The snowfall hadn’t begun. Maybe there would be no snow this month. Darcy walked past the bend in the road.

The road was lined with familiar shops and takeaways. The rustic German shops and record stores were beginning to close. This was her world.

Her phone whistled. Darcy pulled her phone out.

Jillian

Where are you?

Darcy

On my way.

The staff of The Science Reporter, Jillian and Darcy were meeting for dinner. A bus passed her by. The light changed. Darcy walked over the pedestrian crossing.

Mike’s article on doppelgängers had received a great response. After the success of the first article, he had begun a series on Doppelgangers and Parallel Universes. The Science Reporter was celebrating the first anniversary of the series. Mike had invited Darcy and Jillian to join the celebration.

The train stopped. Darcy got off. She navigated the confusing streets of the Loop, hunting for DMK Burger Bar where Mike had told her to come to. She followed the instructions of her GPS. A brightly colored red sign that said ‘Pret A Manger’ came into view. Next to it was a dull, grey board that read ‘Byron’s Hamburgers.’ She found it.

The words were written in bold, red letters on the top of the door. Patrons sat on the chairs outside, coloring the night with sounds of mundane chatter. Darcy walked to the door and pushed it open. The smell of food flooded her senses. The zealous heating system blasted a puff of warm air on her face. The interior was beautifully decorated and had a cozy and intimate atmosphere. The lights hung low. The bar was stocked with craft beers and friendly bartenders. The wooden floor gleamed with polish. The latest game lit up the television screen that lined the bar. It was crowded in the evening. Darcy passed through rows of people, talking and eating to reach a long table at one corner of the restaurant. She saw the five of them sitting there.

They erupted into a loud cheer. The sound of beer glasses clanking together followed. She heard loud cheers. Her eyes fell on Jillian first. Jillian’s emerald eyes met hers. She waved.

To Jillian’s right sat Nancy, munching on sweet potato fries. The photographer stood next to her clad in a pair of dark green cigarette pants and a leather jacket. The main reporter munched on the lettuce leaf on which the fries were placed. He was wiry and wore a pair of oversized spectacles. His black hair was spiked and added an inch to his height. He sipped some beer before turning.

“Hey!” Mike walked toward her. She unwrapped the scarf. His tousled brown hair looked messier. His dark eyes filled with warmth.

“It’s good to see you.” he said. He wore a checked shirt and a pair of beige trousers.

He embraced her. “Here’s the star of the show. I would never have written this article without your help.”

“What about me?” Jillian called out.

“You too.” he said. Darcy smiled.

The server appeared with a few more large, cheesy hamburgers and a tub of fries.

Darcy smiled weakly. “That’s the real star of the show.” she said. Mike smiled. She waved to Nancy who stood at the other end of the camping-style wooden table. She wore a blue cashmere skater dress.

“Mike, these burgers are not enough to compensate the sleepless nights I put in.” Nancy said, chowing on her burger.

“Take a day off, then.” he said.

“You mean it?” her eyes lit up with hope.

“Nope. We gotta start working on the podcast.”

“You’re doing a podcast?” Darcy asked, surprised.

“By popular demand,” the writer emphasized.

“That’s great.” Jillian said.

Darcy sat on the long wooden bench. She pulled her coat away. A plethora of fries and burgers filled the dinner table. She grabbed a piece of the cut-up burger and tasted it.

“This is great.” she said, washing it down with some beer.

“Larry recommended this place,” Mike said, pointing to the writer. Larry raised his hand and smiled. Darcy noticed his brown stubble which became prominent when he smiled.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Jillian said. She pressed her hand over Darcy’s arm. “I missed you.”

“I’m glad to be back,” Darcy said. Her voice was subdued.

“Take it slow,” Jillian said.

Darcy’s phone rang. Dan.

She answered the phone.

“Hello? sis, you are you?”

“Dan!” Darcy said in a cheerful tone. The sounds from the bar made their way into the speaker.

“Are you out?”

“Yes. I’m having dinner with some friends.”

“I’ll call you later-”

“How’s the job?” she asked, excusing herself to a quieter corner of the bar.

“Good,” Dan paused. “How’s the counselling going?”

“I’ve been making progress.” Darcy said.

“How’s dad doing?”

“Good,” she said. Her tone dropped. “I’m glad he’s here. I haven’t been able to spend much time with him.”

“He said you’re much better.”

“I am.”

“That’s good then. I want to introduce you to my girlfriend. Are we celebrating Christmas at your place or dad’s?”

“Really? I want to meet her.” Darcy said.

“You will. Soon.”

The waiter emerged from the swinging doors that covered the kitchen and placed a pint of beer next to Darcy.

“Wo hoo!” Nancy called out from the other side.

“Enjoy!” he said before disappearing into the kitchen. The strong smell of alcohol mingled with the fries, pulled pork and fresh smell of oil on potato wedges.

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later,” Darcy said before she hung up. She headed back to the table and joined the party.

By the time the night was over, Jillian was terribly drunk. The beer and the conversation depleted.

“And in high school…I met this guy called Frank…..” she droned on about her tragic love life.

“How many were there?” Nancy asked, trying to imbue some structure into her never-ending recounting of heartbreaks. Jillian began to count on her fingers. Darcy sighed.

“I think it’s time to head back.” Darcy said.

“That’s a great idea,” Mike said, eagerly. “Should we call it a night?”

A sleepy Larry nodded vigorously. Mike stood up. It was past 12:00 AM. The last time she’d stayed out that late was in college. 

“May I have the bill, please?” he asked the waiter. The waiter ran up to the cash register and brought them the bill.

The crowd stepped out of the restaurant. Nancy struggled to balance herself. Darcy held onto her for support.

“Thank you for the dinner.” Nancy said, collecting her coat from the stand. She headed to the North.

“And then there was Willy….” Jillian went on with her story.

“She doesn’t get tired, does she?” Nancy asked with a sigh.

“Nope.”

“I’ll take her home.” Mike volunteered.

“Are you sure?”

“I invited her here. I should be the one to take responsibility.” he said.

“I’ll go too,” Nancy said. “I live near where she lives.”

“Okay.” Darcy said.

Darcy flagged a taxi. The driver stood promptly before the shop entrance. Darcy got Jillian into the cab. Mike followed her.

“Good night.” he said. The taxi drove away.

“See you later. Good night.” Darcy said. She flagged a taxi. She sat inside the cab and closed her eyes.

“Where to?” the driver asked, noticing her American accent.

“Lincoln Square.” She said. She narrated her address. The driver drove.

Her fingers traced patterns on the foggy glass. The red lights outside the window blurred. She wiped the mist off with her hand.

Her eyes fell on her reflection. Her right and left eye interchanged. She stared at herself for a long moment. Her eyes sparkled brightly. The food was warm in her stomach. Her hair was a shade lighter and her face warmer. She smiled at reflection.

An ephemeral white snowflake danced down the sky.

“It’s snowing.” Darcy whispered.

“It is,” the driver replied, casually.

Darcy’s eyes remained on the scenery outside the window. Pure white snowflakes floated in the black night sky. They multiplied until white snow pelted the car windows. The dark roads were beginning to pile up with white snow. Darcy continued to look at the window.

It was the first snowfall of the year. Giddiness rose up her heart. Her eyes remained on the beautiful snowflakes, sliding down the sky. She smiled to herself. There was hope after all.

-THE END-

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

P. Wish is an author of psychological thrillers and mysteries. She graduated with an honors degree in Law from the University of Manchester, UK. The Doppelgänger is her debut novel. Her next mystery novel, the Ghost of Robert Brown will release in August 2016. For more information, visit her
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Acknowledgments

I would like to thank editor Paul Simpson of
Bubblecow
for his invaluable suggestions and guidance. I would also like to thank Emily (LJ Andrews) of
EmmyEdits
for proofreading this book, James of
Humble Nations
for the book cover and Elijah Toten of
Toten Creative
for the book design.