Alice had always known her son Adam was different. At seven, he deduced he was adopted. By ten, he was drawing pictures of two identical boys. One was him. The other was Arthur, his “twin.”
Alice didn’t think much of it. Until one day, Adam disappeared. When he returned, something was off. He was distant, his mannerisms changed. Alice questioned him. He insisted he was Adam. But the real Adam was still missing.
Alice searched everywhere. School. Parks. Even the local amusement park. No sign of Adam. Then, she received a tip. Someone had seen a boy matching Adam’s description near an industrial zone.
She rushed there. There, standing by a fence, was Adam. Or so she thought. As she approached, she noticed the boy’s eyes weren’t quite right. They lacked the warmth Adam’s always had.
“Adam?” she called.
The boy flinched. “I’m not Adam,” he whispered.
Alice’s heart sank. The boy was a carbon copy of her son. A perfect imitation. But not him.
She hugged him anyway. “You’re safe now,” she whispered.
The boy smiled faintly. “Thank you.”
Alice never found out who the imposter was or how he came to be. But she did find Adam. He had been hiding, scared, waiting for her to find him.
