Fall in love in a weekwe get by

– Wonderful. – He put his hands in his coat pockets and slowly moved along the path further, seemingly confident that I would follow. Well, really, what else was left for me? – It's time to draw intermediate conclusions. This is not an illusion, a hoax, a unique resemblance, or even cloning. You don't just have problems with magic. I think I won’t be mistaken if I assume that you are not a sorceress at all. And what periodically turns out to be tolerable is obtained solely thanks to the memory of the body. You do not feel any attachment to Miss Blair, but most likely experience the opposite feelings. The current state of things does not suit you, but it seems that you cannot change anything. From here, or not only from here, are your heartbreaking hysterics and thoughts about your cherished dreams. The main question that interests me at the moment is no, two questions: why on earth and for what are you trying to live someone else’s life, and how did my mother get involved in this story. Which, without a doubt, is aware of what is happening.

He really does look like Sherlock Holmes.

“I feel like a literary character,” I forced a smile. – A narrow-minded assistant to a brilliant detective, introduced into the plot solely in order to ask, after solving the case: “But how?!” Your conclusions are probably based on strict logic, but I don’t catch the intermediate constructions. Why, for example, did you discard the hoax option? Or an experiment?

– You are not her. What kind of experiments can there be? Norwood shrugged. – And for hoaxes of any kind you need to have at least acceptable acting skills. You don't even have them in their infancy. And the participants in such impressive deceptions are paid well. And they don’t cry as if someone took away their most precious thing. However, at first I was leaning towards the hoax option. But only if Miss Blair herself had undertaken to arrange it. Absolutely mediocre preparation of a double, not a single chance of success.

I chuckled: in a way it was. My “preparation” was limited to a lesson in beauty care, making coffee, opening portals, and providing backup in several particularly difficult cases. Like that explosion in the laboratory or the visit to the headmistress. Norwood is right, anyone who knows how to look, listen and think would have instantly seen through the substitution, and then what did it cost Charlottenino “no one should know”?

–You're right, I'm not a sorceress. I don't understand magic at all. That is why I cannot answer your questions. I was told to keep quiet, I don't have enough information to judge when to follow this advice and when to break it. ? Sabella…you have a very wise mother, Dr. Norwood. And observant. She guessed that I was not Charlotte within about ten minutes of a chance meeting. We ran into each other in a fashion salon; Charlotte dressed terribly. I couldn’t come to the Academy in crimson trousers!

Norwood chuckled audibly.

“They not only could, but had to appear in them if they were going to play someone’s role.”

– Never! – I resolutely objected. – There are some limits. In the end, any girl has the right to radically change her style.

“And this once again proves that you know Miss Blair very poorly.” By the way, where is she? Or is this information also in the zone called “I was told to remain silent”?

“To be honest, I don’t remember exactly,” I admitted. – I think I was in shock then. It's all pretty vague. Do you know what happens when a bunch of disgusting news is dumped on a completely unprepared person? – I hesitated. This is pretty much what I'm doing now. Or I'm about to do it. Although… perhaps Norwood cannot be called completely unprepared? In any case, it seems like I have nowhere to go. I'm tired… endlessly tired of carrying this load alone. – Where is Charlotte… so I know where she is! Last appeared the day before yesterday. She said that the problems with the portals were her doing. Ghosts have a strange sense of humor, if they even have one.

Norwood stopped so abruptly that, by inertia, I managed to take a few steps before turning around. I have never seen such an expression on his face before. Not shocked, no, rather petrified.

“She was performing a ritual,” I explained quietly. – I messed something up. The result… well, here it is. True, I didn’t understand what happened to me; I didn’t perform any rituals. But she said that I was drawn after an astral transfer. A completely random coincidence. Otherwise, they would have found her body in the morning, and that would have been it.