Wellesley, Monday

My body heaved convulsively as I scrambled off my bed and fell to the floor on all fours. Tears dripped from my eyes as the pressure built and I lurched forward, vomiting nothing but bile.

Oh god. It hadn’t worked.

I was in Wellesley.

The test failed.

I was dying.

What had I done?

I retched again and slumped onto the ground, panting weakly when there was nothing left.

Is this what it had all come to?

The moment, the choices, over?

Had I fooled myself into this?

I gasped and hiccupped through silent, fear-filled sobs. I would die alone. After all this, I would have no one with me.

My heart was pounding in my chest. But despite my panicked thoughts, I noticed that my breathing had started to slow down. I opened my eyes. My bedroom was mostly dark, but my bedside lamp, still on, appeared normal. I stared into the light – just a normal globe-white glow. No halos surrounding it. No yellow tinge.

I dragged myself into a sitting position with my back resting against the side of my bed. With each breath I was feeling calmer, more … myself. I put my hand over my chest and felt my pounding heartbeat, but as time went on, the rhythm seemed to stabilise.

Hands shaking, I stayed where I was and waited.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but eventually I had enough confidence to attempt to stand. My knees wobbled and I held onto the side of the bed until I managed to straighten up. But with each passing moment, I felt stronger and my footing was more sure.

There was only one explanation.

I’d been suffering from some kind of mental overlap. The effects of the last hour on my mind – its expectations of what should have been happening to my body given what had just happened in my other life – had taken over and were causing a physical reaction.

‘I’m okay, I’m okay,’ I whispered, coaxing myself, over and over. ‘It’s just in my mind, all in my mind.’

Somewhere, in another world, perhaps currently frozen in time, I was overdosing on prescription meds. My heart was in major overdrive, my vision yellow, but here … my chest beat steadily and, after the initial reaction to the shock, there was nothing to indicate I wasn’t all systems go. I took in more deep breaths as I tried to let the knowledge sink in, and eventually shocked myself by smiling.

I was right.

I clapped a hand over my mouth.

I was right!

The physical was completely separate. What happened to me in one life no longer affected the other.

Too exhausted to process any further, too confused to know if I wanted to laugh or cry, I cleaned up the mess I’d made on the floor, then collapsed back onto my bed and, surprisingly, fell into a deep sleep.

‘Sabine! Are you up?’ Mom called out.

I rolled over and groaned. I could have done with more sleep, like a week’s worth.

‘Yes!’ I called back so she wouldn’t come in.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. My stomach was aching – from muscle strain but also hunger. I was throwing up more than I was eating of late.

‘Hurry up, or you’ll be late for school,’ she yelled from down the hall.

School. I hadn’t thought about it for days. As a result of my admission to the clinic, I’d missed Monday at school in my other life. I wondered if they’d let me go back at all before graduation. Unlikely, given how insane they thought I was – and what I’d just done to confirm their theories. I groaned again and headed for the bathroom, hoping a hot shower would help wash away the other-me and let me be exactly who I needed to be in this world.

When I was wrapped in a towel, hair and make-up done, I came out of my bathroom to find Mom waiting, an excited smile lighting up her face. It didn’t take long to see why. Lying on top of my bed was a gorgeous sunflower-yellow pleated skirt and a short-sleeved cream cashmere top.

‘Oh, Mom, they’re beautiful,’ I said, fingering the edge of the soft cashmere.

Her smile widened. ‘I wanted you to have something nice to start your last week of school with.’

She waited while I dressed and then nodded, tugging on the hem of the skirt until it was just right.

‘There. Perfect.’

I slipped into a pair of heels and assessed myself in the mirror. Mom was right. With my new blonde hair, the outfit suited me perfectly; I looked like a new me. ‘Thanks Mom, this is exactly what I needed,’ I said, smiling as I spun around.

‘You’re welcome. Actually I was thinking maybe we could meet up after school. Grab a coffee, like old times,’ she said, looking hopeful.

‘Oh, sure. Sounds good.’ My phone beeped with a message.

Mom gave a relieved smile and kissed me quickly on the cheek before heading out of my room.

I checked my messages. Miriam.

I’m coming up the drive!

Sure enough, when I peeked through the curtains to my balcony, I could see her white SUV coast to a stop.

I grabbed my cherry-red Alexander Wang bag and headed for the front door, stopping only to grab two of Mom’s muffins and an apple on the way. I desperately needed to recharge.

Slipping into Miriam’s car, I handed her a muffin.

‘Ooh, cinnamon?’ she guessed, grabbing the muffin and taking a quick bite. ‘Low fat?’

‘Naturally.’ Mom was devout when it came to her muffins and fat content.

Then Miriam looked up and her full mouth dropped open. ‘Oh. My. God. Your hair!’ She started clapping and jumping in her seat.

I laughed, but kept my cool.

Once she’d settled down, her eyes narrowed playfully. ‘You know you owe this all to me. You finally came to your senses and took my beauty advice.’

‘Yes, it was all you, Miriam,’ I replied dryly.

She gave a self-satisfied nod and we both laughed.

Lucy was waiting for us at the front of our school. Once she’d stopped hyperventilating about my new hair, we entered the halls together for the start of our last week.

‘You know, I think I’m actually going to miss this place,’ Lucy said.

‘Well, we do rule the school. It isn’t going to be fun starting at the bottom again. At least we’re naturally talented at moving up the ranks. It won’t be long,’ Miriam said confidently.

I nodded. ‘And even though we’re going to different colleges, we’ll still talk every day and see each other every second weekend. Remember the schedule.’

We had drafted a calendar that showed when each of us would visit the other in their new homes. If nothing else, the three of us were determined to stay friends. Drifting apart was not an option.

Lucy and Miriam nodded and we all linked arms – until Brett snuck up from behind and tossed a very unhappy Miriam over his shoulder. Lucy and I laughed as Miriam hit Brett on the back, demanding to be put down. Everything was just as it should be, and when Lucy and I parted ways to go to our first class of the day I did my best to concentrate on the day ahead of me, rather than the one I’d just left behind.

But some things are easier said than done.

It wasn’t until I was sitting down at lunch and Dex clicked his fingers in front of me, saying, ‘Earth to Sabine? What’s with you today?’ that I even realised half the day had passed.

I covered up as best I could. I sent him a cheeky smile and flicked a pasta shell in his direction, which led to him dragging me onto his lap. I laughed and we all joked around as we signed each other’s yearbooks. But I felt increasingly distant; something was nagging at me that I couldn’t put my finger on.

When Dex walked me to my final class, he leaned in to kiss me in the corridor. I think we made it to around second number seven before the kiss even registered. When it did, the intimacy suddenly felt unbearable.

The strangest part was, for the first time I wondered if the problem wasn’t me, so much as us – Dex and me – as a couple. Then there was the image of someone with messy dark hair which had surfaced during the kiss, causing a shiver to run through my body before I managed to shut it down.

This was crazy. I was just confused with everything that was going on. Dex and I were perfect together. Everyone said so. As a couple, we were gold.

‘Do you want to do something this afternoon?’ Dex asked, his voice low and intimate.

‘Oh, I can’t. Mom wants to take me out after school.’ I rolled my eyes for effect. ‘She’s getting all nostalgic.’

Dex smiled, his hand moving up and down my back. I forced myself to stay there and relax, while mentally chastising my runaway mind.

‘You know, everyone is looking at you,’ he said.

I raised my eyebrows.

‘That new hair has earned you quite a few admirers.’

I smiled sweetly. ‘Jealous?’ I teased.

He pulled me closer – a fast, possessive move. ‘Not at all,’ he growled and kissed me again quickly before stepping back. ‘You’re mine and everyone knows it.’ He planted another kiss on my forehead. ‘You better get to class.’

I nodded, a little thrown by his behaviour.

Final class of the day was French. Mademoiselle Moreau seemed to accept no one was really concentrating on classes this week. Essentially school was finished. This last week was more a matter of collecting teacher references, getting our yearbooks signed and preparing for the graduation ceremony. She told us to put away our books, and simply asked each of us to take it in turns to explain in French what we’d be doing during our break and what our plans were for the year ahead. If only she knew what a complicated question that was.

Luckily she started from the opposite side of the room and I knew it was unlikely we would get through everyone before it was my turn. Just in case, I jotted down a few points. As I did, I flashed back to the night before – to Ethan, smiling, joking about my coming back and speaking in German. Suddenly, instead of summarising a future I wasn’t even sure I would have, I was scribbling something else entirely.

My name is Sabine. I live in two worlds. I want Ethan to believe me.

I hoped I’d remembered it right. I was sure it was the general gist of what he’d said. When the bell rang and everyone filed out singing, ‘Au revoir, Mademoiselle Moreau!’, I approached the front desk.

‘Excuse me, Mademoiselle, I was wondering if you might be able to point me in the right direction to get a German translation?’

Mademoiselle Moreau glanced up from her papers. ‘Parler en français, Sabine.’

‘Je suis désolée,’ I apologised, then repeated my request, this time in French.

She shook her head. ‘Je ne sais comment me présenter en allemand,’ she said, explaining that she only knew how to introduce herself in German.

I took out my pen and wrote down her translation for ‘My name is Sabine’. Mein name ist Sabine.

‘Merci beaucoup, Mademoiselle,’ I said and headed for the door.

‘Sabine!’ she called out.

I turned to face her.

‘There are lots of translation sites online, but they are not so reliable. The library will have a good German translation dictionary.’

‘Oui, merci,’ I said, not daring to reply in English.

I rushed through the halls, keen to collect my bag and get straight to the library. Miriam and Brett were waiting by the lockers.

‘Hey, we’re going to the mall. Want to come?’ Miriam asked, while Brett snuggled her from behind. For some reason, their easy togetherness grated on me today.

‘Ah, no,’ I said, feigning disappointment. ‘I have to go meet Mom for a coffee.’ And then, in case they decided to hound me, I smiled and added, ‘But maybe after.’

‘And let me guess, you’d like to be chauffeured to your coffee date?’ she offered.

I did a quick calculation. I was sure I could have coffee with Mom and still make it to the library in town before it shut.

I threw Miriam a sheepish look and she rolled her eyes. ‘Come on.’

Sala’s Patisserie was the best coffee shop in Wellesley – famous for their afternoon teas. By the time I walked in, Mom was already seated, a tiered cake stand of finger sandwiches and delicate pastries in front of her. My stomach rumbled, still hungry despite my pasta-salad lunch.

I sat down, ordered a mocha and let Mom do all the talking – which was exactly the way she wanted it, pausing just long enough to enjoy dainty mouthfuls of the miniature éclairs and tarts, which she dissected and critiqued from every angle. For my part, I scoffed the too-small sandwiches and what was left of the pastries, and tried to marshal my scrambled thoughts.

For the first time in forever, I was going to try to actually prove it – that I lived in two worlds. There had always been reasons, good ones, to keep it a secret, but those didn’t apply anymore. Not in the same way.

As each minute passed, I grew more determined. Ethan didn’t believe me. He didn’t want to believe me. But what would he do if I managed to deliver what he’d so easily joked about? For the first time in my life, I wanted someone to believe me. And not just anyone …

Ethan.

The thought of seeing his face when I spoke those lines in German ignited a hope in me I’d never dared entertain.

Of course, when I remembered the way I’d left things in Roxbury, my confidence faltered. All of this would rely on me being … Well, I’d need to be … alive.

When I Shifted tonight, knowing how much Digoxin had been in my system, I couldn’t be sure what would be waiting for me. Had I played it too close to the line? Taken too high a dose? Would I even get my chance to show Ethan the truth and make him believe me?

‘Sabine? What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re about to explode out of your seat,’ Mom said, her eyes going to my bouncing legs.

‘I … er … I just need to get to the library before it closes!’ I blurted. ‘There’s a book I need before graduation.’ I shrugged and pushed back my chair, knowing I couldn’t wait any longer. ‘You don’t mind if I catch up with you at home, do you?’

I had to try. I had to find a way to make him believe me. At least one person in my worlds was going to damn well know me, know the truth. Someone had to.

Mom’s shoulders dropped. Clearly she’d been hoping for more than just coffee. She’d probably had visions of a shopping trip afterwards. I felt a pang of guilt, but there was no way I was going to give up this opportunity. When Mom gave a sigh and nodded, I leaned down and gave her a tight hug. I’d make it up to her later.

‘Thanks, Mom,’ I said, and then I was out of there, headed straight for the library in the centre of town – straight for proof of my crazy existence.

It wasn’t a perfect translation, but the words were there and in order and that night I sat in bed, a piece of paper resting on my lap. A small, crumpled square of paper that suddenly meant so much.

I was glad I’d set my alarm. I’d never imagined I’d be able to fall asleep, but after enduring a gossip-filled dinner, where Mom and Lyndal ran through the checklist of every scandal in Wellesley, I’d slipped away to my room and shortly after exhaustion had struck. Thanks to my alarm, I woke up fifteen minutes before the Shift. Just enough time to do a final run-through of my lines.

My pronunciation wasn’t brilliant, but it would have to do.