The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller Read Online Free Page A

and waved at her. Reluctantly, Darcy walked toward her. She followed Susan into the theatre and stood at the back row.
    The lecture theatre was full. Students buzzed. Darcy walked into the room weakly. She covered her wet blouse with a black sweater. 
    The main door was open in anticipation of the speaker. Darcy wrapped her scarf around her mouth, in an attempt to cover her face. It was warm inside the theatre. She swallowed her spit. The water settled at the edges of her hair. She used her hand to dry her hair.
    She had gained a few inches after fifteen. Her face was totally different. There was no similarity between her current self and her past self. He wouldn’t be able to recognize her. 
    “Here you go,” said Susan, shoving the bouquet at her. “Give him the flowers after they announce his name.”
    “But…” Before Darcy could utter another word, Susan moved to Dr. Stanley, a professor in the Life Sciences department. Darcy stood by the door with the bouquet shaking in her hand.
    Lights dimmed for a moment. The door opened. Darcy’s eyes turned to the door.
    He strode in like a tiger. His shoulders were upright, his vision unwavering and his steps deliberate. At sixty-five, he was the same. Darcy inhaled sharply.
    His presence re-oriented the molecules of her being. His eyes turned toward her. She held the bouquet over her face to avert his gaze.
    His hair was silvery white. His clear eyes, though deeper in their sockets, retained their penetrating gaze. His posture hadn’t changed.
    He walked to the podium. The chancellor wrapped a red robe around him. It was the school’s official color.
    Darcy hated red. Especially on him. Her head spun. A rapier cut across the fabric of her mind, distorting her consciousness. His eyes were on her. Just her. She was conscious of every moment. The bouquet of flowers melted away. He looked at her naked face with his scalding gaze. She was defenseless.
    She heard them scream. She heard herself scream. The lights on the ceiling turned hazy. Her head spun like the blades of a fan. Her knees succumbed to a moment of weakness. A strong grip tightened over her body.
    “Are you all right?” a low voice, whispered. Darcy opened her eyes. She saw a pair of brown eyes. They lingered over her face. She backed away. He had a clean-shaven face that smelled of Old Spice. His masculine scent rushed in through her nose. She stood up with a sudden jerk.
    “I’m fine, thank you,” she said. She picked the bouquet up from the floor. Susan observed the scene and moved closer.
    “Are you all right?” she hissed.
    “I’m not feeling well,” Darcy said, handing her the bouquet. “Can you-”
    “I will.” Susan broke in.
    “I’ll go back to the library,” Darcy said. Susan’s eyes turned to Dr. Cleo who was looking at them. She made a conscious effort not to look at him. If their eyes met, he’d recognize her. To her relief, he went on with the speech. Darcy turned to the stranger who had caught her.
    “Thank you,” Darcy said to him. She saw his brown eyes gaze down at her.
    “My pleasure,” he said. “I’m Michael. Call me Mike.”
    His face was blurry. She nodded weakly, failing to register anything he said. Dr. Cleo’s voice faded away as she slipped through the narrow opening in the door. She hurried up the marble stairs. She entered the library, panting like a dog.
    There were a few students there. They turned to her. They saw her. They saw her weak, disheveled state. She stepped back. Her flimsy heel turned against the raised entrance, landing her butt on the hard marble floor.
    “You okay?” the security guard asked. His eyes looked at her. He had the same blue eyes. Darcy shrieked.
    Everybody’s attention turned to her. Students looked at her like she was crazy. Her clothes were wet. Sweat ran down her damp hair. Her fingers trembled. She heard him breathe.
    “Are you-” his voice was deep and gruff. Just like him.
    Darcy stood up instantly. Her body slid on