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The Perfect 228

    +15 <b>BONUS </b>


    <b>Chapter </b><b>228 </b>


    <b>“</b>Yes, sir. He’ll pay you handsomely if you-”


    “Luna E was announced dead a week ago. Today’s the day of her funeral.”


    I froze, unsure of what to say. Obviously I wasn’t dead; I was standing right here, naked and confused but very much alive. But the man’s face was solemn as he took off his hat and held it against his chest.


    “Was a shame, I hear,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Died during childbirth.” He nced up at me with one weathered old eye. “Although you do look a bit like her… But not quite. Eyes are different<b>, </b>and so is


    the hair.”


    “That’s impossible.” I stormed past the old man and walked over to the nearby window looking into the first floor of the house. “I am Luna E. You must have false information.”


    But when I leaned forward and looked at my reflection, I froze.


    Because staring back at me… Wasn’t me.


    Well… It was me, but different. As if I’d put on a different skin, or perhaps an off–brand costume of myself. My nose was the same, a gentle slope with a slightly upward tilt at the point. But there were freckles dotted across it now, which I never had before, and my face was a little more oval–shaped than it once


    was<b>. </b>


    The most striking differences were, indeed, my hair and eyes. My hair, once strawberry blonde, was now a deep almost burgundy color like the light glinting off a b of polished mahogany wood–deep chocte with reddish streaks that caught the sun.


    And my eyes, which used to be a bright blue, were now a cool silver. The irises were so close to white that they nearly blended in with my scleras.


    Trembling now, I reached up to touch my face and hair. I almost expected my hand to go right through it, like I was some kind of ghost, but my fingertips met solid flesh.


    This was real. <b>I </b>was real.


    But… how?


    It didn’t make any sense. I was convinced that Sophia was behind this somehow, though; perhaps she’d dyed my hair and the drug she gave me somehow changed my eye color. But that didn’t exin the freckles, or the face shape, or the fact that I was just now realizing that I was probably two inches taller than before.


    Still, it had to be her. I definitely wasn’t dead. Whoever had imed I was dead was either lying or mistaken.


    “Take me back to Ashw,” I repeated, turning toward the farmer once more. “Please.”


    A couple of hourster, I found myself sitting in the passenger seat of the farmer’s beat–up old pickup truck, scarfing down the remnants of a sandwich he’d prepared for me–I was shockingly hungry, likely another side effect of the drug–and dressed in a spare pair of his overalls and a nnel.


    Finally, the farmer pulled up to the Ashw Alpha manor. He stopped a little ways down the road and put the truck in park.


    “I’m afraid this is as far as I take you, littledy. The funeral is closed to the public and I don’t want to get in no trouble for showin‘ up uninvited.”


    “That’s alright.” I swung the door open and climbed out. His boots were several sizes too big on me but I’d return them soon enough. “Just wait here. When Ie back, you’ll be paid well for bringing the Luna of Ashw home.”


    The old man harrumphed and shook his head disapprovingly, but I kept my head held high and shut the door, marching straight up to the gate. To my surprise, the gates were wide open and the guards were busily speaking to someone in another vehicle off to the side–in fact, the entire driveway was full of cars -so they didn’t see me walk right in.


    I hurried up the driveway, intending to walk straight through the front doors and see what all the fuss was about. My footsteps slowed when I noticed the hearse sitting at the top of the driveway, but I kept pushing on, figuring it was another one of Sophia’s tricks.


    When I stepped inside, I found that the house was full of people dressed in ck. Some were sniffling and wiping their eyes, others holding tiny tes of hors d’oeuvres and speaking quietly amongst themselves. A few looked my way, but most were too preupied with one another to notice me.


    “Ridiculous,” I whispered, shaking my head as I pushed toward the parlor. Whoever had faked my death had certainly gone all out, hadn’t they? But they’d all be in for a surprise the moment I-


    I froze<i>. </i>


    My heart leapt into my throat.


    There,ying in a casket at the front of the room, was me. Dead as a doornail.
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