The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller by P. Wish Page A

the other residents too. You should report it to the police.” his tone was serious. She nodded.
    “I want to but I don’t have any proof.”
    “No blank calls? E-mails? Letters?”
    “No but when I came back home yesterday, my apartment was open.”
    “God. Do you think somebody came? Was something stolen?”
    “They knocked over a photo frame and the glass broke.”
    “This is serious. Why don’t you report it as theft?”
    “Do you think I can get footage from the security cameras?”
    “Ummm…they’re doing maintenance checks on the cameras. I don’t think they were working yesterday. They’ll do the checks again this Sunday,” Mr. Hatter said. Maintenance checks, of course. Did the person who broke in know about that?
    “I’ll report it,” Darcy said.  “Could you keep an eye for me, in the meanwhile?”
    “All right. I’ll message you if I see someone suspicious. I think I have your phone number. I’m off to work at two in the afternoon and I come back at eight,” he said. “But I’ll let you know if I see something.”
    “Thank you,” Darcy said. She stood up. “I need to work.”
    The train was late that day, and it was always on time. The crowd on the platform multiplied exponentially within fifteen minutes. They squeezed Darcy. It was getting difficult to breathe. Darcy turned her head to the left. It was the only part she could move. She craned her neck for any sign of the train and saw a sea of heads. The constant stream of carbon dioxide raised the temperature of the platform.
    In the distance, Darcy saw the bright lights on the train. The sharp sound of the train’s base rubbing on the track jolted Darcy. Relief cut across her senses. The crowd pushed her into the nearest coach. Before she could find a place, the train parted.
    Darcy reached the library at 9:30. She ran up the slippery marble stairs, slipping twice in the process. She made her way to Susan’s room.
    The room smelled of coffee. Jillian sat in one corner of the room, sipping a cup of coffee from Starbucks. There was a distant expression in her eyes. Her face was pale. Darcy hung her coat on the stand.
    “Jillian, are you feeling all right?” Darcy asked as she unwrapped her scarf.
    “Huh?” Jillian was distracted. She swirled the cup of coffee, releasing some stream.
    “You looked…ummm…disturbed.” Darcy said, undoing her coat buttons.
    “You know, something strange happened yesterday.” Jillian said, her large green eyes filled with worry.
    “What do you mean?” Darcy asked.
    Susan burst into the room. Darcy turned to the window.
    “Where were you?” she asked, looking at Darcy. “I thought you’d had an accident or something.”
    “The train was late,” Darcy said.
    Susan turned to Jillian. “You don’t look very well today.”
    “Yesterday, I saw someone who looked just like me,” Jillian said in a low voice.
    Darcy froze. Her neck didn’t budge as her eyeballs moved. The words pricked the back of her neck. She slammed the cup of hot chocolate on the table.
    “Are you sure?” Susan asked, tilting her head.
    “I saw her at the train station….it was somewhere near the Loop,” Jillian went on.
    “Are you one of a twin?” Susan asked leaning closer.
    “No, I’m not,” she said.
    “That’s…that’s really strange,” Darcy said scratching her chin. “Are you sure you saw somebody?”
    “I thought about her all of yesterday,” Jillian said. “And I’m sure I saw her.”
    “Oh, there are all kinds of lookalikes these days,” Susan said. Jillian turned, nervously. Her shaky fingers curled over the warm cup. “Did you see that e-mail about Angelina Jolie’s lookalike? I thought it was another image of her.”
    “I saw that one,” Darcy confessed then turned to Jillian. “Some people look similar. I don’t think you should be worried.”
    “There are those people, right?” Jillian muttered. She dunked the cup of coffee into the dustbin. “It’s disturbing to know