"Well, I would assume that you'd catch up to me, and I'm still creeping up a little," I tell him. Most of my growing is done, I think, but I've gained about another inch in my time in Darrow. "So a little, but not much more."

That is, of course, assuming that Jamie and I really are identical. All evidence points to it. We have the same moles, the same freckles. I'm sure we'll have the same height once all is said and done. It used to be unsettling, having this copy of myself, but I've gotten used to it as just another eccentricity of the city, and I'm grateful to have Jamie in my life.

"Or maybe all the coffee and cigarettes have stunted my growth, and you'll be a giant," I tease, pulling my feet up onto the loveseat and tucking my toes under the blanket. "But I doubt it. I would like to leave the being a giant to Oliver."