“I have a twin,” Ivy whispered.
“That can’t be.” Her father shook his head.
“Sure it can,” Ivy said, trying to smile. “Her name’s Olivia. She moved here at the beginning of the school year.”
“And how,” her father asked, “do you know this girl is your twin?”
“Because we look exactly alike,” Ivy answered.
“Many people look alike,” her father countered.
Ivy peered down at the emerald ring hanging from a chain around her neck. “But not many people who look like me also have a ring like mine,” she pointed out.
Her father breathed in sharply through his nose. “This is . . . quite a surprise,” he said slowly. Ivy winced.
“There’s more,” she said. He turned a shade paler, which is no easy feat for a vampire.
Ivy steeled herself. “She’s a human.” Her father gasped, and the miniature coffin slipped from his hand. He grabbed at it frantically, but it bounced off his fingers. Reaching for it, the back of his hand accidentally struck the model, and one wing’s cardboard walls collapsed, crushing a pair of gargoyle easy chairs.
He stared down at the model in disbelief. “Sorry,” squeaked Ivy.
“It is not your fault,” her father said absently, going to sit behind his desk. He put his head in his hands. “Does she know of your true nature?” he asked, looking up after a moment.
Of all the questions Ivy expected from her dad, this was the one she’d been dreading most. She nodded, and her father closed his eyes in disappointment.
I am going to be grounded for eternity, thought Ivy. “She would have found out sooner or later,” Ivy blurted. “And Olivia won’t tell anyone. She knows how serious it—”
Her father held up his hand to stop the stream of words coming from her mouth. “I understand,” he said simply. He looked at her sternly, but Ivy didn’t think he looked angry. He took a deep breath. “How do you feel about this sister you have found?”
“I love her,” Ivy said matter-of-factly. “I couldn’t imagine my life without her. I feel like meeting her was meant to be.” Ivy stood there, waiting for her dad to respond, but he just stared into space. Finally she said, “Is it okay if I go to Olivia’s house for dinner tonight?”
“Have you finished your homework?” her father asked expressionlessly.
“Mostly,” Ivy answered.
“Then you may go,” he allowed, forcing a small smile. He stood and came to give her a quick hug before looking down at his model. “It seems I have my work cut out for me here,” he said, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere. Ivy nearly skipped back down to her room in the basement. Considering I was half expecting him to burst into flames, she thought, I think he took that pretty well!
Chapter 2
Olivia had just finished setting the table for dinner when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” her mom shouted.
Olivia immediately bolted for the front of the house and rounded the corner just in time to catch her mom swinging open the door and singing, “Hell—” her mom’s voice broke midword “—o,” she finished, mouth agape.
Olivia looked past her staring mother to see Ivy on the doorstep. Her sister had clearly dressed up for the occasion. She was wearing a warm black jacket over a turtleneck sweater, a black miniskirt with fishnets, and her long black boots. She’d even put on her dark purple lipstick. Olivia thought she looked fabulous.
“Hi, Olivia.” Ivy smiled with a worried twitch of the eyebrows toward Olivia’s speechless, staring mom.
“Mom,” Olivia said, elbowing her mother in the side. “This is Ivy.”
“It is so . . . interesting to meet you, Ivy,” her mom said. She glanced over Ivy’s shoulder into the street. “Did your father drop you off?”
“He has to work tonight,” Ivy replied. “He’s really sorry he couldn’t stay.”
“I hope we get to meet him soon,” Olivia’s mom said as Olivia pushed past and gave her sister a hug.
After taking Ivy’s jacket, Olivia led her into the living room, where her father did a double take. Olivia caught her mom staring at her sister’s outfit again as Ivy sat down on the couch.
“Can I get you something to drab, Ivy?” Olivia’s mom asked.
“You mean ‘to drink,’ Mom,” Olivia said, completely embarrassed. Her mom was normally like America’s Best Hostess, but apparently her hospitality mechanism malfunctioned when it came to guests wearing black nail polish.
Olivia stepped between Ivy and her mother and mouthed the word “sorry” to her sister. Ivy responded with a little don’t-worry-about-it smile.
“Want anything?” Olivia asked aloud. “Do you have cranberry juice?” responded Ivy. Olivia nodded and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll help you find a glass, sweetheart.” Her mom gulped, hurrying after her.
Olivia groaned inwardly as she overheard her dad saying, “So, Ivy, did you know you had a double aura?”
Olivia got the bottle of cranberry juice from the fridge as her mom took down a glass. “Is she getting over some sort of illness?” her mom whispered.
“No,” Olivia said.
“I knew it!” Her mother gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. “Poor girl. Somebody died, right?”
My parents have got to get out more, Olivia thought. “No, Mom, nobody died. And Ivy’s not training to be a mime, either. She’s a Goth.”