Reflection Returned

I'ts obviously a hotel room. It's even more obvious its the nicest hotel room I've ever been in. The chambermaid let herself in, all subservient and apologetic when she spotted me on the bed. She's small and dark, her hair plaited around her head in a complicated style that makes my head hurt. Hurt more, I mean.

"Mehico," she said when I asked. She didn't even look up from the sink. Do a lot of people in 5 star hotels ask what country they are in?

The phone rings like its been detonated. I dont want to answer it, but it gives me no choice.

"Breakfast is only served til 10. Are you coming?"

I reel from the blast. The voice is mine. How is the voice mine?

"Madam? Madam?" The chambermaid's face is close to mine, her round brown eyes concerned, and I realise I'm on the floor. I focus on the gold stripe, running through cobalt blue, on the deep pile of the carpet.

"I'm fine, thank you, I'm fine," I say but my skin is slick where her hand rests on my arm, hesitant as a deer.

"Your sister is on the phone Madam, she wonders are you joining her for breakfast?"

And there it is. My twin, missing for 25 years. Feared dead, trafficked, tortured. But she was none of those things. I close my eyes and see her face - my face - last night, the champagne celebrations, the story of her unimaginable wealth, her choice to disappear and her choice to be found.