Caught in the Parallel: Parallelogram, Book 2

1 I am sitting on a plane. A private jet. Someone has put a glass of fresh pomegranate juice in front of me, but I haven’t taken a sip. I’ve been asked questions: “Are you comfortable? Do you need anything? Are you still jet-lagged? Does the dog need anything? Would you care for an asparagus soufflé?” and I either nod or shake my head. I’ve barely said ten words in the past two hours, probably for the same reason I haven’t tasted that delicious-looking pomegranate juice: my throat seems to have closed up. I’m afraid if I open my mouth I might scream. Because nothing—and I mean NOTHING—is right about this scene. There is a dog sleeping at my feet. Not my dog. Not my feet. There is a guy sitting across from me, the best-looking guy I’ve ever known, the guy I’ve been in love with for thirteen years, since I was four years old. Not the same guy. Just his face and body, skin and voice and hair. He calls me Halli. I am not Halli. Halli might be dead. Halli might be lost. Halli has left this body—been catapulted out of it, thanks to my brilliant move, trying to save her life—and now it’s just me in here, Audie Masters, a girl with absolutely zero clue what I’m supposed to do now. Not my body. Not my life. Not even my universe. Oh, great masters of physics, help me.