When we got home, everyone’s expressions were strange, reminiscent of the time Tiffany had visited.

“Arthur, why are you back so late? Isn’t it cold outside?” Tiffany asked with concern, directing the servants to bring tea, acting every bit the hostess.

“Cary, do you remember her?” Arthur ignored her, looking back at me with interest.

I shook my head.

“Doesn’t she resemble you a bit?” Arthur smiled. That smile was familiar; it always meant I was about to plunge into a nightmare.

“If Cary doesn’t behave well, she will be taking your place.” Arthur’s grip tightened.

Tiffany was dressed in my clothes, her makeup meticulously crafted to resemble mine. Arthur...