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whispered Bianca. “Be brave.”
    I could have been friends with this nice girl, thought Mary Lee, and I didn’t try. I wanted to be an Event without trying.
    MreeLee , you be Madrigal .
    What did that mean?
    She knew, because her sister had been sane, that Madrigal had not meant to die; had not meant that her twin should actually step into her life. But the opportunity was here. Perhaps the need was here. What if her parents really did need Madrigal … and did not need, and did not want, Mary Lee?
    For one terrible sick moment, Mary Lee actually considered going on with the pretense that she was Madrigal.
    For one terrible sick moment, Mary Lee saw herself in Madrigal’s life: at home, popular, dating Jon Pear, the only daughter, the light of her parents’ world.
    How much better that life would be than the one she had now! How much more fun and exciting! How much more —
    Mary Lee buried her face in the blanket. She had learned a great deal during this hard year. She knew more about who she was, and who she wanted to be. Throw that away? Be somebody else?
    But of course, it was only halfway somebody else. Mary Lee was, even with death between them, an overlapping fraction with her identical twin.
    She dropped the blanket and looked into the large three-way mirror that stood on top of Mindy’s desk. Mindy never studied at her desk. She studied lying on her bed. The desk was for makeup.
    The girl who looked back at Mary Lee, eyes swollen from weeping, looked — of course — exactly like Madrigal. Nobody would ever know if …
    Nonsense. Mother gave birth to me. She will know! I’m her baby, her daughter, her firstborn, in fact, because I came twenty-four minutes before Madrigal.
    Across the campus, the door to the administration building opened, and Mother, Father, and the Dean emerged. Slowly, tiredly, whipped by grief and shock, her parents made their way after the Dean toward the dormitory and their remaining daughter.
    But what do I do, if she doesn’t know? What if my own mother comes to hug me and cannot tell which twin I am? What if I have to introduce myself? Hi, Mother, I’m Mary Lee.
    MreeLee , you be Madrigal .
    She tried to think of the essential morality of it. Was it amoral to shift into another person’s life and clothes, name and world? Was it what Madrigal would have wanted? Was it what Mother and Father would want?
    She tried to imagine taking on Madrigal’s life.
    Another loophole came to mind. The boyfriend!
    Of course, Jon Pear would know. Whereas she wouldn’t even recognize Jon Pear! In a heartbeat, he’d be able to tell that she had no memories of their dates; that those lips might look the same as the ones he had kissed, but these lips had never kissed a boy ever, let alone him.
    She tried to visualize Jon Pear, but could think only of Scarlett’s brother, Van. Immediately, she missed Van. He was the boy next door; he was the birthday cake and the soft icing; he was the summer wind and the new leaf.
    Scarlett and Van were not twins, and yet both were seniors. Van had been kept back in first grade because he was hyperactive and the second-grade teachers didn’t want him yet. Nobody would know it now. He had become the preppy type, with friends named Geordie and Kip. He played water polo and wore blue blazers with khaki pants, and his thin blond hair was smooth silk across his high forehead.
    How can I be daydreaming about Van, she thought, when my sister is dead?
    She wondered if Jon Pear knew. If the news had broken publicly. Was he even now screaming in the agony of loss, asking himself, “Why couldn’t it have been the other one — that twin — that sister we never bothered to talk about?”
    But, of course, Jon Pear thought it was the sister. Everybody thought it was the sister.
    Her parents had reached the dorm, and the Dean had gotten to the door first and was holding it for them.
    Mary Lee faced the door like a captured prisoner facing the judge. She would leave it to fate.