PART 3 – THE IMPERSONATOR
The apartment felt colder than usual, though the lights were on and the sun was climbing over Manhattan. My hands trembled as I scrolled through the security footage once again, zooming in until the pixels blurred.
And there it was.
Aiden—my husband—smiling at the doorman. The familiar warmth in his grin. The tilt of his head. But his eyes… they did not move. Not a single blink, not a shift in focus, nothing human.
A shiver ran down my spine. My chest tightened as the footage glitched for a fraction of a second. The shape of his face twisted, as if a second layer had been flickering beneath his skin. I stumbled backward, the chair clattering against the bookshelf, my whisper barely audible: “No…”
My phone buzzed. Kaye’s voice, tense and clipped, came through.
“Ava, listen carefully. I just walked past him again. Something’s wrong.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, though my voice sounded hollow even to me.
“He’s asking… strange questions,” she said.
“Questions?”
A pause.
“About you.”
My heart froze.
“He asked how often you stay home alone. Whether the penthouse security could be overridden remotely. And…” Her voice dropped, trembling slightly.
“…he didn’t know your birthday.”
Ice spread through my veins. Aiden never forgot anything—dates, anniversaries, even the tiniest details from our travels.
Then Kaye whispered words that shattered the fragile sense of reality I had left:
“And the woman with him keeps calling him by another name.”
I gripped my phone so tightly my knuckles whitened.
“What name?” I demanded.
Static crackled over the line.
Then—
“Adrian.”
Not Aiden. Adrian.
At that moment, the office door creaked behind me. I turned slowly. There he was. Aiden—or at least something wearing his face—standing in the doorway. Smiling.
“You hung up very quickly,” he said softly.
My blood ran cold. I hadn’t heard the door open. Had he ever really left?
His gaze flicked to the monitor behind me, then toward the trembling phone in my hand.
And then I noticed it.
The wedding ring on his hand was wrong. Perfect, flawless platinum—no scratch, no mark from our move years ago. This was not my Aiden.
The entity removed the ring and placed it on the desk.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
I could barely breathe. My phone buzzed again—another photo from Kaye, taken just thirty seconds earlier on her flight. Aiden, seat 3A, holding champagne and the hand of a blonde woman. The same face. Two Aiden’s. One in the sky. One standing before me.
Then the lights went out. Darkness swallowed the room. My gasp echoed against the walls. Emergency backup lighting flickered red, illuminating the office just enough to see… nothing. The entity was gone.
The office door remained closed. No footsteps. No elevator sound. Nothing. Only the hum of the emergency lighting.
And then, from the ceiling speakers, a voice—cold, mechanical, impossible—cut through the silence:
“Security override activated.”
Every lock clicked in unison: front door, office, windows. The penthouse was sealed.
My phone vibrated violently. Another unknown number.
I answered.
“If the copy is awake, you need to leave now,” the voice whispered.
My mouth went dry. “Who is this?”
“He wasn’t supposed to remember you,” the line crackled. “The man you married… died eight months ago in Zurich. The one inside your apartment isn’t your husband. And if he realizes you know…”
A hand landed on my shoulder.
I screamed. I spun.
The creature wearing Aiden’s face was inches away. Smiling softly, kissing my temple. Its eyes were entirely black.
And then it was gone.
I sank to the floor, trembling. My fingers reached for the security feed. I needed to see the truth.
Scrolling back to yesterday at 6:47 p.m., I froze as I watched Aiden enter the lobby, waving at the doorman. I zoomed in, heart hammering, and what I saw made my stomach twist: a perfect copy… and a nightmare I couldn’t escape.
The line between reality and something else had shattered.
And I realized, with a terror that sank into my bones, that the real danger had only just begun.
