HANGING OUT WITH A HOT BRITISH singing sensation way past midnight on a school night probably wasn’t the best way to prepare for finals.

 

In fact, it was pretty much the best way to guarantee you weren’t going to perform your best the next day.

 

Another good way to assure you were going to bomb was to come staggering into your loft and then find your big brother waiting up for you.

 

Except, of course, he’s not really your big brother.

 

“Where’s Lulu?” I asked. Steven was sitting alone on one of the white couches, watching TV. Almost all the lights were out in the loft, and I nearly tripped over Cosabella as she darted over to greet me when I stepped off the elevator.

 

“She went to bed,” Steven said, switching off the sound of the show he was watching. I was almost not surprised to see what it was. Shark Week. Yeah. Nothing surprised me anymore. “Which is where you should have been hours ago, isn’t it? Don’t you have school in the morning?”

 

The idea of Lulu going to bed before me was so laughable I almost choked. I knew she had only done it to impress Steven with how responsible she was. As if.

 

“Uh, yeah,” I said. I collapsed at one end of the couch on which he was sitting and began tugging at the high-heeled boots I was wearing. They’d been killing my feet all day—except during the brief interlude when I’d been wearing the Louboutins, when my feet ached in a different way. I almost longed for the Stark brand imitation Uggs. “I better head to bed. Sorry I was out all day. Rehearsal ran late. Did you get dinner?”

 

“Lulu took care of me,” Steven said, with a nod. “She made sure I got the entire tour of downtown Manhattan, including Chinatown, Ellis Island, and the Statue of Liberty.”

 

“Wow,” I said. Cosabella hopped up onto the couch beside me, and now that my boots were off, I absently stroked her ears. “That’s a lot. No wonder she went to bed. Aren’t you tired, too?”

 

“I am,” Steven said. “But I wanted to wait up for you. We need to talk.”

 

I was instantly seized with alarm. I knew I hadn’t exactly been spending the hours since I’d last seen him doing what I’d said I’d do—hiring a private investigator. In fact, I’d been doing very little in the way of looking for his mom…unless you counted giving Christopher Mrs. Howard’s Social Security number.

 

Then there’d been that piece of information Dr. Higgins had told me. Which was not exactly the kind of thing you wanted to share with a guy. At least not at one in the morning.

 

“What?” Steven said, before I could say a word. “What are you not telling me?”

 

I blinked at him, wondering how he knew.

 

“Um,” I said. “I did hear something—”

 

How do you tell someone you’ve heard their mom is crazy?

 

I guess you just blurt it out. Which I did. Because I couldn’t exactly hide it, could I?

 

“Do you think it’s possible maybe, what with you away, and her relationship with me not being the best, your mom might have just…snapped? I hear she wasn’t the most mentally stable person in the world to begin with,” I said, all in a rush. “People at Stark say—”

 

“People at Stark say?” Steven stared at me like I was the one with a screw loose. Which couldn’t possibly be true, because I just had all my screws examined and they’d been ruled completely tight. “What do the people at Stark know? They’ve never even met her!”

 

“Don’t be mad,” I said. I was starting to feel worse than ever. And I didn’t mean my sore feet. “I’m really sorry. But maybe, because you’re her son, you don’t want to see that—”

 

“See what?” Steven demanded. “That Mom worked her whole life to feed and put two kids through school single-handedly because Dad ran out on us when I was seven and you were two? That none of us ever heard from him again, but Mom still managed to get you everything you ever wanted for Christmas, even though we could barely afford it? That when you wanted ballet lessons because your best friend had them, Mom took on an extra job, working even more hours, just so you could have those, too? And now you don’t want to bother looking for her because someone at Stark told you she was off her rocker?”

 

Whoa. I’d screwed up. Big-time. Why had I believed Dr. Higgins’s version of things, instead of Steven’s? Why had I fallen for the lies of a doctor who worked for a corporation I knew to be evil?

 

I knew why, actually. Because it had been easier than doing the right thing—the responsible thing—which was actually helping Nikki’s brother. Especially when I’d been so wrapped up in Christopher’s drama these past few days. I couldn’t believe how stupid and selfish I’d been, worrying about nothing but me this whole time, when Nikki’s family had been in so much real trouble and pain. What did I have to be concerned about, really? Whether or not Christopher liked me? Whether or not people saw me in a bra made out of diamonds? Here a woman was missing—a woman who’d sacrificed so much for her kids—and I’d just been trying to avoid doing anything about it, really.

 

I bowed my head, so Steven couldn’t see the guilt on my face, and said to Cosabella, who’d crawled into my lap, “I’m sorry.”

 

There were a couple seconds of uncomfortable silence before Steven asked, his voice cracking, “Who are you?”

 

I lifted my head and just stared at him.

 

“W-what?” I stammered.

 

“I mean it.” I wasn’t the only one who’d been staring. Steven couldn’t seem to take his disconcertingly blue eyes off me. “I honestly don’t have the slightest idea who you are. Because you’re not my sister. You look like her. And your voice sounds like hers. But the words coming out of your mouth aren’t anything like the things she’d say.”

 

A small croaking sound came out of my mouth. I managed to formulate it into, “I h-have amnesia—”

 

“Enough with the amnesia thing,” Steven snapped. “You aren’t Nikki. She’d never apologize to me for anything. You have to be some kind of twin they found somewhere and put in her place for some reason. I’ll admit they did a good job. A really good job, since you look exactly like her, even down to that—” He grabbed my hand and pointed to a tiny crescent moon-shaped scar Nikki had on the back of one hand, the hand I was resting on Cosabella’s furry head. “What’d they do, carve you up to make you look identical? That must have smarted.” He threw my hand down again. “Hope you’re getting paid a lot.”

 

I didn’t know how to handle this. No one at Stark had prepared me for this, or told me what to do in the event it occurred. I was starting to feel panicky. What was I supposed to say? No one had ever not fallen for the amnesia line. I’d talked to hundreds of Nikki’s friends and coworkers, and while they’d all agreed the “new” Nikki was a little strange, none of them had ever accused me of not being Nikki at all…

 

I just shook my head, looking up at him and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking ab—”

 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Steven said. “Just tell me. What happened to Nikki? What, did she get fired for getting too full of herself or something? It wouldn’t be the first time. Where is she, anyway?”

 

I reached up with a shaking hand to push some of Nikki’s hair from my face. I glanced around the room…then at the ceiling, at the tiny holes next to the halogen lights. Then I pressed a finger to my lips and pointed upward. Steven followed my gaze, then looked back down at me as if I were insane. A second later, I reached for the remote and hit the volume button. The sounds of Shark Week filled the apartment. Then I got up and walked over to the stereo cabinet and switched on the last disk that had been playing. Lulu’s voice filled the loft, crooning that she was a cat, and how much she needed to get scratched.

 

Then I went to the loft’s floor-to-ceiling windows and threw them all open, letting in blasts of cold air and the sound of the traffic from Centre Street, below.

 

“What are you doing?” Steven demanded.

 

But instead of answering him, I sat down again, and looked urgently up into his face.

 

“I can’t tell you what happened to your sister,” I said, not raising my voice to be heard above the cacophony of the television, the stereo, and the traffic sounds. “I’ll get in really big trouble if I tell you. Well, I won’t, but my family will.”

 

Steven’s gaze sharpened.

 

“So you admit you’re not her.” His voice was hard.

 

I shook my head. “I do,” I said. “I mean, I am, partly…on the outside.”

 

“What do you mean, on the outside?” Steven glared. “That makes no sense.”

 

“I know.” I was staring down at Cosabella, who had gone completely limp across the couch between us, as if she were in a coma, she was so relaxed, in spite of all the noise. God, I’d have given anything to have been a dog just then. “I can’t explain it. But you have to believe me. Nikki—the Nikki you knew—is gone.”

 

“Gone?” Steven asked. “What do you mean, gone? Gone as in—” He looked disbelieving.

 

“Yes,” I said. “She had an aneurysm. It was like a ticking time bomb in her head. She had a rare congenital brain defect—”

 

“No, she didn’t,” Steven said. Now he didn’t just look disbelieving. He looked like he was going to burst out laughing. “Who told you that? Did she tell you that?”

 

“Um, no,” I said. I was pretty sure laughter wasn’t the correct response when someone told you that your sister had died of an aneurysm in the brain. “I never met her, exactly—”

 

“So what’s this BS about her having some kind of genetic brain defect?” Steven wanted to know. “Nikki was healthy as a horse. My whole family is. None of us has any genetic defects, believe me, and especially not Nikki. She hit her head falling off the back of the bleachers in school and they did a CAT scan and an MRI when she was in the ninth grade, and there was no sign whatsoever of any brain defect. Who told you there was?”

 

I swallowed. Then I said softly, “Stark.”

 

“Stark.” He stared at me. “The same people who told you my mother’s a fruitcake.”

 

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “Um…yeah.”

 

“And you believe them?”

 

I couldn’t really tell him I had pretty good reason to believe them. That if it weren’t for Stark, I wouldn’t be there talking to him.

 

I chewed my bottom lip before I replied. “I have no reason not to,” I said finally. It seemed like the most diplomatic answer.

 

“Let me ask you something,” Steven said, leaning forward. “When did all this happen? You stepping into Nikki’s shoes, so to speak, and her having this so-called aneurysm?”

 

“It wasn’t so-called,” I protested. “People were there. They saw it. It was during the grand opening of a Stark Megastore. It was on CNN. It really—”

 

“Fine,” he said with an impatient wave of his hand. “When?”

 

“Three months ago,” I said.

 

He seemed to do some mental arithmetic. “Around the same time,” he murmured.

 

“Around the same time as what?” Then it clicked. “As when your mom disappeared?” I looked at him curiously. “But…what would the two things have to do with each other?”

 

“I don’t know,” he said. “But it’s a little bit more than a coincidence, don’t you think? And now, with Stark feeding you this story about my mom being mentally unhinged—”

 

“You’re saying you think Stark had something to with your mom’s disappearance?” My mouth had gone dry.

 

Why wouldn’t Stark have had something to do with his mom’s disappearance, though? Stark spied on me all day and night. Stark knows everything, sees everything. Stark’s legacy is murder.

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Steven asked. “Look at you. You’re so paranoid about Stark, you can’t even talk about it without turning on every piece of stereo equipment in the apartment. Do you honestly think this place is bugged?”

 

Instead of answering, I leaned over to reach for my purse, then pulled out my bug detector and turned it on. The audible alert clicked faster and faster the closer I waved the antennae toward the ceiling and the holes above our heads.

 

“And don’t say it’s a piece of junk,” I said, referring to the transmitter, “because I paid nearly five hundred dollars for it.”

 

Steven blinked. “Oh,” he said. “It’s a piece of junk, all right.”

 

“It isn’t,” I insisted. “I know they’ve got something in here, recording what we say. They knew you were here. They know all sorts of things they couldn’t know otherwise.”

 

“I’m a communications electronics technician,” Steven said patiently. “With the United States Navy. And I’m telling you, what you’re holding is a piece of junk…which isn’t to say it doesn’t work.”

 

I felt a cold chill up my spine. “Really?”

 

“Really,” he said. He took the detector from me and stood up, holding the antennae toward the ceiling himself. The clicking grew in intensity and volume.

 

“How long have those been there?” he asked, nodding toward the holes.

 

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I just noticed them one day.”

 

“Not good,” he said. He took the transmitter from me and switched it off, then threw it down onto the couch. “What are we going to do about it?”

 

“What do you mean, what are we going to do about it?” I asked.

 

“Two women are missing,” Steven said. “And Stark obviously knows why.”

 

“Only one woman is missing,” I said through my too-dry lips. “I told you, Nikki is—”

 

“Gone, right, you said that. Only she’s not, really, is she?” He looked down at me expectantly from where he stood.

 

“No,” I said. “Legally, she’s alive. Because legally, she’s me.”

 

Steven stared down at me some more. He waited a beat. Then he said, “You’re kidding me. Right?”

 

“I’m not,” I said. My heart was thumping hard within my chest. I had to tell him. I had to tell him the truth. He deserved to know. It was his sister, after all. I had to make him understand. “This is your sister Nikki’s body. But her brain is—”

 

Before I knew what was happening, he’d reached down and seized me by both shoulders, hauling me to my feet, and startling Cosabella, who yelped. He didn’t seem to notice, though.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded, giving me a shake. “How can this be my sister’s body?”

 

Suddenly, I was having trouble seeing him, thanks to all the salt water coming out of my eyes.

 

“I can’t tell you,” I cried. “They already may have made your mother vanish. Do you really think I want to get on their bad side? You don’t understand. You don’t understand what they’re like, how powerful they are, how much money they have—”

 

Steven’s grip on me was pretty hard. I had a feeling he could leave marks on my arms, which wouldn’t look too good on the Stark Angel taping if they didn’t fade by New Year’s.

 

“This is crazy,” Steven said, giving me another little shake to emphasize each syllable. Cosabella, watching from the couch, let out a nervous bark. “You’re crazy, do you hear me? Every word that comes out of your mouth is nuts.”

 

“I’m not nuts,” I insisted. “It’s called a brain transplant. My brain, in your sister’s body—”

 

That seemed to stagger him. But he didn’t let go. “Stark? Stark did this? If Stark did all this—if they’re really doing this—then why doesn’t anyone know? Why haven’t you told anyone?”

 

“I told you,” I said to him, through gritted teeth. “We can’t tell anyone. Anyone, do you hear me? Stark says they’ll put my parents in jail if I tell anyone! And they’ll do it, too. Whatever ideas you might have about going to the press, or whatever, get them out of your head right now. It won’t work. Stark owns the press. I’ll help you find your mom if I can.”

 

“How?” he asked, his fingers loosening on me. “How are you going to do that?”

 

How was I going to do that? I couldn’t mention Christopher and his crazy scheme with Felix. First of all, it was so nuts, there was no chance of it succeeding. And secondly, I didn’t want Christopher more involved in this than he already was. I loved Christopher, in spite of the fact that he didn’t love me—or at least, the fact that he only loved some dead girl I used to be, not the me I was now. I couldn’t drag him into all this, not if what Steven suspected was true, and his mom had disappeared because of what had happened to me and to Nikki. It was too dangerous.

 

And yet…

 

And yet if Christopher and Felix really could do what Christopher said they could…

 

“I know some people who say they can find her,” I heard myself saying.

 

Miraculously, Steven dropped his hands.

 

“Who?” he asked.

 

It was at this point the door to my bedroom eased open and Lulu stuck her tousled head out.

 

“What’s going on out here?” she wanted to know, blinking sleepily. “What’s all this noise? Why are you yelling? Why’s Cosabella so upset?”

 

Steven backed away from me.

 

“Nothing,” he said to her, reaching for the remote. He switched the TV off. “Just a family squabble. Go back to bed.”

 

Lulu didn’t listen to him. Instead, she came padding barefoot out into the living room. Rather than wearing her usual negligee, she had on a pair of oversize pink flannel pajamas with enormous cherries on them. I realized, from the way she had the legs rolled up at the bottom, that they belonged to Nikki.

 

“No, seriously, you guys,” she said. “What’s up? Hey, are you listening to my CD?”

 

“Yeah,” I told her, reaching up to push some of my long hair from my eyes. “Everything’s okay, really. Go back to bed.”

 

“No.” Lulu tottered over and plopped down onto the couch next to Cosabella. “It sounded like you guys were fighting. I don’t want you guys to fight. I mean, I never had a brother or sister, so I always kinda wished for one so I could have fights. But still. What was the fight about?”

 

I looked over at Steven. He was scowling at the white carpet. Since it didn’t seem like he was going to say anything, I shrugged, and just said, “He found out about the spirit transfer.”

 

Lulu looked up at Steven, then reached for his hand, which looked huge in comparison to hers.

 

“Oh, poor baby!” She squeezed his hand. “You miss the old Nikki, don’t you?”

 

He looked down at her incredulously. “The old Nikki? What are you…You know about it?”

 

“Sure,” she said, tugging affectionately on his pinky for him to come sit next to her on the couch. He resisted of course. “We all do. Well, me and Brandon. We even went and kidnapped Nikki from the hospital after it first happened. She didn’t like it. But we thought she’d been a victim of al-Qaeda! Or the Scientologists. Only it turned out it wasn’t either of them. The old Nikki was just gone. And this new one was here to take her place. We decided we like her better than the old one, though. At least I did. I don’t know about Brandon. Why?” Lulu looked from one to the other of us. “Is that a problem?”

 

Steven just shook his head. “I need an aspirin,” was all he said.

 

But he let Lulu pull him down onto the couch beside her, where he sat with his head sunk into his hands. He looked like a man defeated. I didn’t really blame him.

 

“Do you need a neck massage?” Lulu was asking him. Even though he didn’t reply, she was already reaching over to rub his neck. “I give totally good neck massages. They just about turn Nikki to Jell-O. Our housekeeper, Katerina, taught me how. And she was trained at some of the best spas in Gstaad. It’s all about getting the tension out right here.…”

 

“I know a guy,” I whispered. I was desperate to make the situation right. Although I wasn’t sure how it could ever be right again. His sister was dead, even though he didn’t seem to want to believe it.

 

And, of course, somehow I felt like it was all my fault, even though I knew it wasn’t.

 

Steven looked up.

 

“You what?” he asked.

 

“I know a guy,” I repeated softly. Softly enough, I hoped, for none of the bugs in the loft to pick up. “A guy who’s really good with computers. He says he can find your mom.”

 

I didn’t want to say that this guy was the fourteen-year-old cousin of someone I’d been crushing on since, like, the seventh grade. Steven looked suicidal enough. He stared at me while Lulu kneaded his neck. Weirdly, Lulu’s neck massage didn’t seem to have the same effect on him that all neck massages had on Nikki’s body.

 

“How?” Steven asked. “How can he find her when the police couldn’t?”

 

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “He just says he can. Look, I don’t see what we have to lose.” Except everything, including my life, when Steven found out “this guy” was an adolescent.

 

“When can we go?” Steven asked without further hesitation.

 

I felt my heart lurch. I hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly. What was I doing to Christopher? To Felix?

 

On the other hand, if their plan worked, maybe there’d be no Stark to come after us later…

 

Yeah. And maybe Nikki Howard was going to be the next president of the United States.

 

“Um. In the morning, I guess,” I said.

 

“Great.” Steven nodded. “Let’s do it.”

 

Lulu looked pleased. “Fantastic!” she said, applying her elbow to his trapezius muscles. “And you know what? You’re feeling less tense to me already!”

 

“Thanks.” Steven gave her a brief smile, then got up and started heading toward her room. “I’m really beat. I’ll…I’ll see you both in the morning.”

 

When he got to the door to Lulu’s room, he paused, however, and turned to look at me.

 

“What should I call you?” he asked.

 

My voice sounded almost unnaturally soft in the large loft, after our shouting match. The traffic sounds from the windows were loud, even though it was so late at night. We lived, after all, in the city that never slept. On the stereo speakers, Lulu was making noises like a cat. Whatever Stark was picking up of this conversation, it was bound to be confusing them.

 

“Nikki,” I said to Steven. “It’s my name now.”

 

He stared at me for a full ten seconds. I couldn’t have begun to read his expression if I’d tried.

 

Then he turned abruptly and disappeared through the door, closing it quietly behind him. I glanced at Lulu.

 

“Well,” she said, with a big smile on her freshly scrubbed face. “I think that went well. Don’t you?”

 

I collapsed onto the couch beside her with a frustrated moan. It was going to be, I knew, another sleepless night.