“Are you okay?” Karly asked, studying me with a crinkle in her forehead.
I struggled to speak. “Fine. You look beautiful. Both of you.”
“Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.” She crossed the space between us and casually deposited our little girl in my arms. “Here, can you take her? I need to feed her, but I want to change first.”
She kissed my cheek and headed for our bedroom. I had held few babies in my life, but holding Ellie felt utterly natural. I wondered how old she was, but she looked new to this world. Her face, her hair, her eyes, they were me. And Karly. And Edgar. And my mother, even my father, too. My entire family lived in that child, free of anything bad, of anything that wasn’t good and perfect. I wanted everything in my life to stop where it was right then and there. I wanted that moment to last forever.
Then Ellie began to cry. Her little face screwed up as she realized that her mother was gone and a stranger was holding her. With her cheeks red, she wailed for Karly and squirmed to get away from my arms. That was when the reality of this situation truly hit me.
She was not mine.
She belonged to someone else.
Nothing in this world was mine.
Karly returned moments later, wearing a loose Cubs jersey and sweats. “Aw, what’s wrong, Ellie?” she murmured as she retrieved her baby and took a seat in the living room near the fireplace. She lifted her shirt and offered up her breast, and Ellie settled immediately, making soft suckling noises. “Could you dim the lights, honey? She likes it better when it’s not so bright.”
I did.
“And some music?” she asked. “Something mellow.”
“Sure.”
When the piano music was playing, I took a chair opposite her. I needed to go, because the real Dylan could return home at any moment, but I found it impossible to drag myself away. Watching Karly, watching Ellie, I felt in awe of the amazing life this other version of myself had built. To be honest, I was jealous. Envy ate me up inside. This man, whoever he was, had made bad choices like me — he’d killed someone with all his pent-up frustration — and yet here he was with this beautiful wife and child. He’d gone through hell and come out in heaven on the other side.
It was almost too much for me to bear. Everything here felt so good, so natural, so right. And none of it belonged to me.
“I saw Susannah for lunch today,” Karly told me, using her mother’s first name.
“How is she?”
“I think having a granddaughter may turn out to be a reasonable trade for me getting out of the real estate business.”
“She didn’t try to get you back?” I asked, because I knew what Susannah was like in any world.
“Well, she didn’t put her heart into it. She brought it up once and then dropped it. She did remind me that with you working for a nonprofit, and me being a stay-at-home mom, we have practically no money.”
“What did you say?”
“I said you have a ten-minute walk to work, and I don’t mind Hamburger Helper.”
Karly’s eyes drifted to Ellie, and I watched her face glow with love.
“Are you really okay with this?” I asked her.
She looked up from Ellie, and her eyes were as serious as I’d ever seen them. “Life’s about making choices, Dylan. This was my choice. I don’t have a single regret.”
I wished I could say the same. At that moment, I was consumed with nothing but regrets. I told myself again: You need to go. I needed to leave this house and give it back to the people who belonged here.
But I couldn’t.
“I was working on another poem today,” Karly went on.
“That’s great.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, because we’re not poor enough, I want to get a useless graduate degree and write poetry. I haven’t shown any of them to my dad yet. He keeps pestering me, but I’m not ready. They’re really dark. I don’t know where any of it comes from. I’m so happy with my life, but I start writing, and it all comes out like a nightmare.”
“I think that’s the sign of a deep soul.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” she replied, but she had the twinkle that told me she liked hearing that.
“Can I see what you wrote?”
“Sure. I’ll read it to you later when we’re in bed.”
I covered my disappointment, because I wouldn’t be here for that. “Okay.”
“Would you get me a cup of tea, sweetheart?”
“Of course.”
I stood up from the chair. I wanted nothing more than to spend the evening like this, in the dim glow, with music playing. Then I would put my daughter in her crib and go to bed with my wife. My hunger to stay in this life overwhelmed me, but all good things had to end. Like a jumper on a bridge railing, I finally took the plunge, but I regretted it as soon as I fell.
“I think I’ll stretch my legs outside,” I told her. “I need to clear my head.”
“Are you all right?”
“Fine. I just want to get some air. Do you mind? Are you okay here?”
“I don’t mind, but please stay out of the park. Did you hear about that woman disappearing? I don’t like you walking home that way at night. I know the park is a shortcut, but I want you to stay on Foster.”
“Okay. Whatever you want.”
I went into the kitchen to make her tea. I knew the kind Karly liked: mandarin orange with a hint of cinnamon. It was too sweet for me, but she loved it. I could do this one last thing for her, but then I had to go. While the water boiled in a mug in the microwave, I got myself ready. I grabbed a light jacket from a hook near the back door, and I slipped it on.
Then I took a long, sharp knife from the butcher block on the counter and tucked it into the jacket pocket.
Chapter 31
Despite Karly’s warning, I headed straight for the park. It drew me into its darkness. There was no one around, just empty sidewalks and shadows where the glow of the light posts didn’t reach. The night hid me, but it hid him, too. I walked across the wet grass to the dense trees lining the riverbank, where my gaze couldn’t penetrate the wall of tangled brush. The sewery dankness of the water intensified as I got closer, like the blooming of a corpse flower. The wind was dead still, letting the smell hang in the air.
I thought about calling out to him. I was sure he could hear me. Let’s end this now. You and me. But I didn’t think he’d show himself yet. He was like a virus, stalking his victims silently and only coming into the open when he saw that they were vulnerable.
In the quietness, I listened to the chirp of a lone cricket, like a spy issuing a warning. A mosquito whined in my ear, and I batted it away. Keeping my eyes on the riverbank, I returned to the trail and headed north. As I walked, I curled my fingers around the handle of the knife in my pocket. Every few steps, I looked back, trying to pick out a silhouette in the trees.
No one was there.
I kept looking for the Dylan who lived in this world, coming home from work. I wasn’t sure what emotions I would feel when I saw him. We’d have the same face, the same body, the same walk, but he had so many things I didn’t. Karly and Ellie were waiting for him. When he was back in our apartment, he’d kiss his little girl and sleep next to his wife. I had no one waiting for me in my own world. They were all gone.
All I could do was make sure that this Dylan Moran got home safely to his family.
At least, that was what I told myself I was here to do.
Ahead of me, the trail split. One way led up to Foster Avenue. The other way led down into a tunnel beside the water. I took the tunnel, where lights illuminated rust, swirls of graffiti, and a swarm of bugs. The last time I’d done this, I’d found Dylan Moran’s body in the process of being consumed by rats. It made me wonder if I was already too late. Maybe the Dylan of this world was never coming home from his job. Maybe my doppelgänger had left his body beside the river, his decomposing flesh contributing to the rotting smell in my nose. But I couldn’t let myself think that way. I had to keep going.