If Looks Could Kill

If Looks Could KillJennifer GriffithStewart Plaid Publishing Chapter 1The Dark MomentFifty-nine cents? For a single grapefruit? I set it back on its golden pyramid and moved on to the potatoes. I weighed a large baker in the hanging scale and did the math in my head. Fifty-four cents.I patted my pocket, mentally counted the nickels and pennies and added them to the quarter again, and then placed the potato in a produce sack and set it in my cart. There was still a tablespoon of margarine in the tub at home. Margarine stayed good at room temperature—a boon because the refrigerator never worked when the power was off.Neither did the heat. I pulled my coat tighter around my body, cinching its belt. At least my apartment provided shelter from the late-spring chill. Otherwise, I’d be on the street. A dumpy flat without utilities was better than no flat at all.“Creative diet?” A woman pushing a cart full to overflowing stopped near the lettuce, taking a few heads of each variety. “Me, I buy all these healthy foods and they go bad in my fridge while I end up snacking on the same old junk food.” She added a pair of bell peppers to the stack, one red and one green.“Mmm.” I tried to agree without voicing it. If I spoke, it would be a lie. I pushed past her, but she snagged my arm.“Will you look at that?” She pointed at the mirrored section above the carrots and turnips. The mist sprayers shut off and we stood side by side. “Look at our reflections.”I did. Mine had water droplets on it, and my cheeks were sinking in. But—so were hers. Identically to my own. In fact, other features were similar. Our facial shapes were the same, nearly hearts, with a mouth that turned up slightly on the corners to give the appearance of smiling, even when I had nothing to smile about.Odd. All my life I’d considered that to be my unique facial trait, something no one else shared.“Our hair is the same color.” Dirty blonde. “Even our eyes are the same shade of blue,” she said, slightly shaking her head.The same shade of blue, yes, but hers were bright, and mine had a haunted look. Or, more like a hunted look.That look tended to appear when a person lost three jobs in six months, and another one yesterday.The very day rent was overdue.“It’s strange. My fiancé said that he once knew someone who looked just like me. For whatever reason, I thought he had to be mistaken.” The mist came on again, and she turned to me. “What’s your name?”“Molly.” I looked her over. She wore a sea green silk blouse, a delicate gold necklace with matching dangling earrings, white trousers and high heels that looked like they could cut glass. “Molly Iverson.”“I’m Hester Mickelthwaite.” She beamed at me. Her teeth were nice. The left incisor overlapped the tooth next to it.Just like mine.I stared at the tooth too long.My stomach growled.“I can’t get over it.” She looked me up and down. “We’re definitely similar. Look, even down to the shape of our hands.” She held up her fingers, showing me that she had one thumb more rounded than the other, slightly deformed. “Could we be long lost twins? You weren’t left in a foundling home or something?”“What’s a foundling home?”“Never mind.” She shook her head. “It’s uncanny, though. Let’s grab brunch together and try to figure out some genetic connection. I think there’s a phone app that tells you if you’re related. Come on. I’ll buy.”She abandoned her overflowing shopping cart and strode toward the grocery store’s coffee shop. I gave a quick backward glance at my baker potato, and then followed the clicks of her spiked heels toward food.When we settled down with our ham and cheese croissants, I waited for her to take a bite. If I bit first, I’d finish the whole thing before she’d breathed. It smelled so buttery, and I could already taste the bits of ham and savory Emmental cheese.An elderly woman paused near the table where we sat. “Look at that. Sisters meeting for lunch. Or, are you twins?” She smiled. “I had twins. They’re fifty now.” She looked nostalgic and moved on.So, other people could see our similarities, too? While Hester pecked at her phone screen, I took another look at her. Our hairstyles weren’t the same. Hers was full-on, with blown out curls framing her face in the latest style. Mine hadn’t been washed today. I usually waited until later in the day when the water in the pipes was less icy. Today would be my last pump of shampoo, as well. At least they left the water on when the power was shut off. Humane of them.“Sorry about that.” She put her phone away. “He’s so needy.” She rolled her eyes.“Your fiancé?”“Um, yeah.” She took a bite—finally, and I bit deeply into my croissant.It was impossible not to gobble it, which I know looked ridiculous, but that was my situation. She held up a finger and called the barista for two more sandwiches, offering them both to me.“You okay?” she asked. “It’s good to see someone with a hearty appetite. I gain five pounds if I eat more than a thousand calories a day.” She sighed and smoothed the fabric of her blouse near her waist. “If I didn’t have my current job, I’d let myself get squashy so fast.”“What’s your job?” This was a prickly topic. One I shouldn’t have broached. Since I’d asked about her job, she might ask about mine, and saying I was unemployed sounded weak and poor.Not that I wasn’t weak and poor, but no one wants to sound that way.“I have an online business.” She lifted and dropped one shoulder. “Some days I love it. Other days it’s so much pressure.” Leaning back in her chair, she seemed to curl in on herself. “I can’t always be that person, you know?”I nodded—as