Chapter 5 - THE DUPLICATES
The apartment room did not begin as a copy of Lily’s.
At first it was built from memory.
Emma’s old favorite colors.
A recreated bookshelf.
A lamp similar to one from childhood photographs.
Then Daniel could not remember details accurately.
He panicked.
He found himself borrowing visual references from Lily’s room.
Paper stars.
Book arrangement.
Desk height.
Pillow placement.
Not because he thought Lily was Emma.
He said that repeatedly.
Claire believed he knew they were different children.
But he had begun using Lily’s living childhood to fill gaps in Emma’s unfinished one.
That was the violation.
Then Claire asked:
“Why take Lily’s actual things?”
Daniel looked down.
The purple lamp reminded him of one Emma had owned.
The snow globe resembled a souvenir Emma loved.
The red cardigan was the same shade as one in an old picture.
Claire felt sick.
“You were turning Lily’s things into Emma’s.”
“No.”
“That’s exactly what you did.”
Daniel cried.
“I told myself I was keeping them safe.”
Another phrase that sounded better than the action.
Then Claire asked about the owl pillow.
Emma never had one.
Why copy it?
Daniel admitted the room gradually stopped being about historical accuracy.
It became about control.
If Lily moved something at home, the apartment copy stayed fixed.
If Lily outgrew a shirt, the duplicate remained.
If Lily changed posters, Daniel kept old versions.
The apartment became a place where childhood did not move forward unless he allowed it.
Claire stared.
“Did you photograph her room?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Maybe once a month.”
“Without telling us?”
“Yes.”
“Did you go through her drawers?”
“Sometimes.”
Claire stood.
Daniel immediately said:
“I never touched her inappropriately.”
Claire turned.
“I didn’t ask that.”
He closed his eyes.
The fact he felt compelled to say it showed how far the room looked from normal grief.
Then Claire asked:
“What else is in the apartment?”
Daniel’s silence answered before his words.
“Files.”
May you like
“What files?”
“Milestones.”
