Three Black Swans Read Online Free Page A

questions. Accept nothing without careful examination. This would be a wake-up call.
    The foyer had largely emptied. Missy had told Claire to turn right and follow a long straight corridor. Claire obeyed. She turned into a dim corridor and saw a distant pink sweater.
    The pink sweater approached.
    Claire had the oddest sense of seeing herself in a mirror. Herself was walking toward her. That was her own thick ponytail swinging back and forth, her own earrings bouncing on her own small earlobes. Her own head was tilted slightly to theside. That was her own wave, long fingers not relaxed and curved, but held stiffly, as if lacking a middle joint. Now Claire’s smile burst on the other face and Claire’s laugh came out of the other mouth.
    Claire’s eyesight blurred. Her steps grew uneven.
    This is a hoax, she told herself. This is pretend.
I
can’t be the one who falls for it.
    “Could you cheer up a little, Clairedy?” teased Missy. “You’re thrilled, remember? There will be witnesses in the studio, so don’t goof up. You just have to hang on for a few minutes. I’ll do the work.”
    Missy flung open a door and pulled Claire into the studio. Claire was now facing a wide plain desk on which lay a thin sheaf of papers. Flanking the desk were an American flag and a plastic fig tree. On the wall behind the desk was a blown-up photograph of the high school, with today’s date tacked on the blue sky.
    Standing at the desk was a short cute chunky boy wearing heavy black-framed glasses. He looked like a 1950s singer inventing rock music. “Wow!” said the boy, his jaw falling open. “Wow,” he said again. “Missy,” he said to Claire, “this is—I don’t know. I mean—I never believed you for a minute. But …” He was half laughing, half horrified. “Missy,” he whispered, “I actually can’t tell which one is you.”
    Claire felt herself shutting down. The lights in her brain were going off.
    “I’m
Missy,” said her cousin. “You’re talking to my long-lost identical twin, Claire.”
    There were gasps from the students behind Claire, who were manning cameras and control panels. “How did you find each other?” demanded one of them. “It’s like a miracle,” whispered another.
    “It
is
a miracle,” said Missy, turning slowly to look into Claire’s eyes.
    For years, Claire had been the tall one. This year she and Missy were the same height, so their eyes were exactly even. Missy’s were the same color and shape as her own, deeply set and perfect for eye shadow. Claire was inches from the exact same complexion, pointy chin and full lips. Inches from identical thin eyebrows, such a contrast to the extra-volume black hair.
    Nothing is identical, Claire told herself. We share a strong family resemblance. People often comment on it. We are not twins. I am two months older than Missy. Miracles happen, but not the kind where the mother fails to give birth to the second twin for eight weeks. Anyway, my parents are my parents. Missy’s parents are her parents. Nobody is adopted.
    Missy, when she was nervous, always yanked out her ponytail. At the exact same moment both cousins pulled out their pink hair elastics, shook their heads in the same way to free up their hair and re-ponytailed.
    “Isn’t it time to do the Pledge of Allegiance, Rick?” asked Missy, yanking out her ponytail a second time, which meant she was really nervous.
    Claire locked her fingers to prevent herself from yanking out
her
ponytail a second time. I am not Missy’s mirror image, she reminded herself. This is a game. All I have to do is smile. Only Missy has to act.
    Rick studied them minutely and then shook himself like a spaniel coming out of water. “After the Pledge, I do my regular stuff, and then I cut to you, Missy. You’ll have about a minute. Margaret here will do a countdown, so you stop at the exact right second.” Rick checked his lavalier mike, straightened his shirt and sat behind the desk.
    There were no