Underneath, she wore generic, ill-fitting scrubs. Her skin was pale porcelain, and even without any makeup, she was stunningly beautiful. More than that, she carried this regality with her. It was clear that she had come from money, that she had spent her life on top, ruling her school, her social circles, even her family. Her eyes were an icy blue, staring at me with the same cold indifference they always had.
“They said you were here, but I didn’t believe them,” Mom gave me a wry smirk. She stood a few steps away from me, and I wasn’t sure what to do.
The way she looked at me was the same way someone might inspect a particularly heinous looking bug just before they squashed them under their shoe.
“Hi, Mom,” I offered meekly, unable to think of anything better to say.
“Kim,” she corrected me coldly. “My name is Kim. Cut the pretense.
I’m not your mother, and we both know it.” She gestured vaguely to the chair I had pushed out behind me and walked over to the table. “Sit. Take a seat.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, sitting down. She sat down across from me, crossing her legs and leaning back away from me, like I was contagious and she didn’t want to get sick.
“That’s what this is about it, isn’t it?” Mom waved her hand in front of her face, then laid it delicately on the table. Her nails were long and perfect, recently painted with a clear polish. “You’ve finally figured it out. Or have you always known? I never could tell.”
“No, I never knew,” I admitted quietly. “I still don’t know.”
“Look at you. You’re not my daughter,” Mom gave me a contentious look and clicked her tongue. “You don’t know how to dress or walk or even speak. You mutilate your nails.” She pointed her manicured hand at my chewed down fingernails. “And that hair!”
“Your hair isn’t any better,” I countered. My dark curls had been pulled up in their usual bun, but I had actually tried this morning when I was getting ready. I thought it looked pretty good, but apparently, I was wrong.
“Well…” Mom smiled humorlessly. “I work with what I got.” She looked away for a moment, then turned back to me, her icy gaze resting on me.
“But what about you? You must have all the styling products in the world.
Between Matthew and Maggie, I’m sure you’re spoiled rotten.”
“I get by,” I allowed sourly. She made it sound like I should feel ashamed for the things I had, like I had stolen them. Although, I suppose in her mind, I kind of had.
“Who brought you here anyway?” The idea had just occurred to her, and she glanced behind her, as if she expected to see Matt or Maggie waiting in the wings.
“Matt,” I answered.
“Matthew?” Mom looked genuinely shocked. “There is no way he would condone this. He doesn’t even…” Sadness washed across her face and she shook her head. “He’s never understood. I did what I did to protect him too. I never wanted you to get your claws into him.” She touched at her hair and tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back and her stony expression returned.
“He thinks he has to protect me,” I informed her, mostly because I knew it would bother her. Disappointingly, she didn’t look that upset. She just nodded understanding.
“For all his sense and maturity, Matthew can be incredibly naive. He thought of you as some lost, sick puppy he needed to care for.” She brushed a frizzy stand of hair from her forehead and stared off at a spot on the floor. “He loves you because he’s a good man, like his father, and that has always been his weakness.” Then she looked up hopefully. “Is he going to visit me today?”
“No.” I almost felt bad about telling her that, but she smiled bitterly at me and I remembered why she was here.
“You’ve turned him against me. I knew you would. But…” She shrugged emptily. “It doesn’t make things easier, does it?”
“I don’t know.” I leaned in towards her. “Look, M-… Kim. I am here for a reason. I want to know what I am.” I backtracked quickly. “I mean, what you think I am.”
“You’re a changeling,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that by now.”
My heart dropped, but I tried to keep my expression neutral. I pressed my hands flat on the table to keep from them shaking. It was just I had suspected, and maybe I had always known. When Finn told me, it had instantly made sense, but I don’t know why hearing it from her made things feel so different. Maybe because she was an objective third-party. Well, she wasn’t that objective, and she was definitely insane, so she probably wasn’t my best source for advice.
“A changeling?” I fought to keep my voice even. “What does that mean?”
“What do you think it means?” Mom snapped, looking at me like I was an idiot. “Changeling! You were changed out for another child! My son was taken and you were put in his place!” Her cheeks reddened with rage and the orderly took a step closer to her. She held up her hand and fought to keep herself contained.
“Why?” I asked, realizing that I should’ve asked Finn this question days earlier. “Why would anyone do that? Why would they take your baby? What did they do with him?”
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing.” She smiled painfully at me and fresh tears were standing in her eyes. Her hands were trembling when she touched her hair and she all but refused to look at me. “You know what you did with him. You know far better than I do.”
“No, I don’t! What are you talking about?” I demanded in a hushed voice. The orderly was giving me a hard look and I had to at least look I wasn’t freaking out.
“You killed him, Wendy!” Mom snarled, that sad smiled plastered on her face. She leaned in towards me, her hand clenched into a fist, and I knew she was using all her will power to keep from hurting me. “You killed him!”
“Mom…Kim, whatever!” I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples.
“That doesn’t make any sense. I was just a baby! How could I kill anything?”
“How did you get Matthew to drive you here?” Mom demanded through gritted teeth, and an icy chill ran down my spine. I opened my eyes to see her leaning across the table, her face contorted with unmasked hatred. “He would never drive you here. He would never let you see me. But he did. What did you do to him to make him do it?” I lowered my eyes, unable to even pretend to be innocent. “Maybe that’s exactly what you did to Michael!” Her hands were clenched so tightly that her nails were digging into her, creating little half-moon cuts on her palms.
“I was just a baby,” I insisted without any real conviction. “I couldn’t have… Even if I did, there had to be more people involved. I wouldn’t just pick a family. I mean, I couldn’t! It doesn’t explain anything! Why would anybody take him or hurt him and put me in his place?”
“You were always evil,” Mom ignored my question. “I knew it since the moment I held you in my arms.” She had calmed herself a bit and leaned back in her chair. “It was in your eyes. They weren’t human. They weren’t kind or good.”
“Then why didn’t you just kill me then?” I demanded, growing irritated.
“You were a baby!” Her hands were still shaking and her lips had started to quiver. She was losing the confidence she had walked into the room with. “Well, I thought you were. You know I couldn’t be sure.” She pressed her lips together tightly, trying to hold back tears.
“What made you so sure?” I asked. “What made you decide that day?
On my sixth birthday. Why that day? What happened?”
“You weren’t mine. I knew you weren’t.” She brushed at her eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. “I had known forever. But I just kept thinking about what the day should’ve been like. With my husband, and my son. Michael should’ve been six that day, not you. You were a horrible, horrible child, and you were alive. And he was dead. I just… it didn’t seem right anymore.” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “It still isn’t right.”
“I was six years old.” My voice had started quavering, and I was surprised that this had gotten to me so hard. I had never thought this had bothered me. I know that sounds stupid, but I had never felt anything about her or what happened. But I was wrong, because I felt hurt and scared and nauseous. “Six-years-old. Do you understand that? I was a little kid, and you were supposed to be my mother!” Whether she really was or not was irrelevant. I was a child, and she was in charge of raising me. “I had never done anything to anyone! I still haven’t! I never even met Michael!”
“You are lying!” Mom hissed. “You were always a liar! You’re a monster! And I know you’re doing things to Matthew! Just leave him alone!
He’s a good boy!” She reached across the table and grabbed my wrist painfully, and the orderly came up behind her. “Take what you want! Take anything! Just leave Matthew alone!”
“Kimberly, come on.” The orderly put his strong hand on her arm, and she tried to pull away from him. “Kimberly!”
“Leave him alone!” Mom shouted again and the orderly started pulling her up. She was fighting against him, screaming at me. “Do you hear me, Wendy? I will get out of here someday! And if you’ve hurt that boy, I will finish the job I started!”
“That’s enough!” The orderly bellowed and started dragging her out of the room.
“You’re not human, Wendy! And I know it!” That was the last thing she yelled before he carried her out of my sight.
I sat in the room long after she’d gone, trying to catch my breath and get myself under control. Matt couldn’t see me like that. I really, really thought I was going to throw up, but I managed to keep it down. My whole body was shaking.