on a drowsy afternoon, a man Ina. long dark coat hesitated infrint of a house ona tree lined street. he hadn't parked a car, nor come by a taxi, no neighbor had seen him srolling around the sidewalk. He simply appeared. as it stepping between one shadow and the next.
The man walked yo the door and lifted his fist to knock.
Inside the house. introducing. Jude sat on the living room rug and ate fish chips soggy from the microwave and dragged through a sludge of ketchup. her twin sister, Taryn. hopped kn the couch, curled around the blanket, thumb in her fruit punch stained mouth. and the other end of the sofa their older sister, Vivienne stared at the television screen, her eerie, split-pupiled gaze fixed on the cartoon
mouse as it ran from the cartoon cat. She laughed when it seemed as if the
mouse was about to get eaten.
Vivi was different from other big sisters, but since seven-year-old Jude and
Taryn were identical, with the same shaggy brown hair and heart-shaped faces, they were different, too. Vivi’s eyes and the lightly furred points of her ears
were, to Jude, not so much more strange than being the mirror version of another person. And if sometimes she noticed the way the neighborhood kids avoided Vivi
or the way their parents talked about her in low, worried voices, Jude didn’t think it was anything important. Grown-ups were always worried, always
whispering. Taryn yawned and stretched, pressing her cheek against Vivi’s knee.
Outside, the sun was shining, scorching the asphalt of driveways. Lawn
mower engines whirred, and children splashed in backyard pools. Dad was in the out building, where he had a forge. Mom was in the kitchen cooking hamburgers. Everything was boring. Everything was fine.
When the knock came, Jude hopped up to answer it. She hoped it might beone of the girls from across the street, wanting to play video games or inviting her for an after-dinner swim.

The tall man stood on their mat, glaring down at her. He wore a brown
leather duster despite the heat. His shoes were shod with silver, and they rang
hollowly as he stepped over the threshold. Jude looked up into his shadowed
face and shivered.
“Mom,” she yelled. “Mooooooooom. Someone’s here.”
Her mother came from the kitchen, wiping wet hands on her jeans. When
she saw the man, she went pale. “Go to your room,” she told Jude in a scary voice. “Now!” “Whose child is that?” the man asked, pointing at her. His voice was oddly accented. “Yours? His?” “No one’s.” Mom didn’t even look in Jude’s direction. “She’s no one’s
child.” That wasn’t right. Jude and Taryn looked just like their dad. Everyone...