* * *
—
When I awoke, it was just after ten o’clock in the morning and I’d somehow ended up in my bed. I did a hangover status check, mentally going over my body one muscle at a time. I was definitely dehydrated, and my stomach felt like a ball of loose wires, but it was nothing a fried egg sandwich and eleven cups of coffee couldn’t handle.
I walked out into the living room. Chloe was asleep on the couch, and Sidney was sitting at my dining room table putting on her shoes.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey. Did you get some sleep?”
“I think maybe, but it doesn’t really feel like it.”
Sidney smiled. “I know what you mean.”
Chloe sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Ten,” I said.
“I’m off to work,” Sidney said. “I’ll see if I can dig up anything else about what Baron was into at WorGames.”
“That would be amazing,” I said. “And if there’s anything we can do on this side, let us know.”
“Will do.”
Sidney left, and I took a seat next to Chloe on the couch. She stretched her arms up to the ceiling and we sat there in silence for a moment.
“We just had a sleepover with Sidney fucking Farrow,” Chloe said, and the two of us started laughing.
“I’m glad Baron got to meet her,” I said. “Before he…you know.”
Chloe nodded.
Sometimes Baron could be a pain in the ass, but I really missed his boundless energy. It wasn’t that he was especially optimistic or anything, but Baron Corduroy was an enthusiast. And Sidney Farrow’s work had meant as much to Baron as it did to me.
I really wished he were still alive.
“Who’s going to make coffee?” Chloe asked.
“Rock, paper, scissors?” I suggested.
“I’ll do it,” Chloe said, but she didn’t move.
“Maybe we should go out? Eggs?”
“Eggs sound good.”
“So good,” I said.
“Do you really think Richard Linklater is going to do another Before movie?” Chloe asked.
“I hope so,” I said. “But Before Midnight was a pretty perfect way to end the trilogy.”
“Trilogy?” Chloe said. “Since when are two movies a trilogy?”
“Um…there are three movies, Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and Before Midnight. You know this. I’m pretty sure we actually saw Before Midnight together at the Cinerama.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, K?”
Chloe pulled out her phone and searched Richard Linklater’s filmography to prove her point. Before Midnight wasn’t listed. She showed me a list featuring a dozen websites. There was no mention of the third film in Richard Linklater’s Before series.
“That has to be a mistake,” I said, and searched the title myself.
There was nothing.
“What the hell is happening?” I said. I felt a lightness in my head and the room started to dim. I tried to stand, but I could feel the walls and ceiling closing in. I sat back down.
“Are you okay?” Chloe sounded worried.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I remember that film. This doesn’t make any sense.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Chloe and I yelled in unison.
“What did you forget?” Chloe added, as the person both of us expected would be Sidney Farrow entered my living room.
“It looks like somebody forgot to lock the door,” said a voice that sounded nothing like Sidney Farrow’s.
We spun around to see who’d spoken.
It was the mystery woman I’d met at the diner, the woman who claimed she worked for Alan Scarpio.
“I hope we’re not interrupting?” she added.
“We?” I asked, just as two women in their late twenties or early thirties trailed her into the room. They were identical twins, dressed in matching black leather jackets, white T-shirts with dark red stars in the center, denim shorts, and black motorcycle boots. They had cropped bleached-blond hair, wide green eyes, and matching tattoos of two machine guns crossed in the shape of a long X on their right thighs. There was no difference in their hair, expressions, and movements, and—outside of the matching tattoos—there wasn’t a single visible beauty mark or scar visible on either one of them.
They were absolutely alike. Perfect copies.
The missing Richard Linklater film was suddenly the furthest thing from my mind.
“Have you spoken with Alan Scarpio?” I asked.