Finding Fiona Read Online Free PDF Page A

York
University and had been planning to study abroad this summer at
their campus in Florence, Italy.
    The laboratory at 2673 Elmscott Avenue in Manhattan was built in
1902 as a bank, but closed during the depression. In 1942,
Christopher Normans, father of the deceased Richard Normans, bought
the building and turned it into his laboratory. When he died in
1997, it passed onto his son, Richard, who made it his home with
his wife and daughter.
    The funeral for all three victims
will be held at 1:00 p.m. on May 7th at Holy Trinity Cemetery &
Mausoleum.
     
    Fiona sat back, taking a deep breath. Three
bodies. One of them identified as Elizabeth. She looked at the
journal by the keyboard. If Elizabeth Normans was dead, then who
was she? If she was Elizabeth Normans, then who was the girl who’d
died in the fire?
    She put her head in her hands,
thinking back to the article in American
Physics. Human replication. The Normans’s
had said it was possible. Elizabeth had written that it
worked.
    This was what the Alarias had wanted. A device
that replicated people. They must have found out it was working.
But why would they kill the people who had the information they
needed? And how… this is what James had kept from her. He must
think she was a replica of Elizabeth Normans who had truly died in
the fire, and he didn’t want to tell her. What a coward. He should
have told her.
    She took out her phone, but didn’t think she
could call him. She had no idea what she’d say: angry, horrible
things, maybe. She didn’t trust herself.
    She went back to the search results page, but
couldn’t find anything related to a nineteen-year-old Elizabeth
Normans. She searched for Richard and Fiona Normans.
    She found articles from other science journals
and magazines, links to a short online encyclopedia about physics,
and more articles about their deaths. Their names were on an NYU
alumni page, but after the first few pages, there was nothing
related to them.
    Fiona went to Facebook and clicked the friend
finder. She typed in Elizabeth Normans. Only a few profiles came
up, but one of the profile pictures was clearly her. A mirror copy
of Fiona, standing next to James. Her biography just had math and
science jokes, most of them physics related. Her interests were the
same as Fiona’s: old horror movies, classic rock, and thriller
novels. She soaked up as much information as she could, trying to
memorize details as though she might take a quiz
tomorrow.
    Troy called from the kitchen, “You two ready
for an awesome dinner? It’s almost ready.”
    The smell of spaghetti floated through the
house. Fiona got off the computer and walked into the kitchen, the
journal in her hand. Hannah sat at the island, watching Troy stir
the sauce into the pasta.
    The kitchen was sleek and black with
stainless-steel appliances. Hannah’s expertise with cooking
extended mostly to picking up the phone and calling out, so much of
the kitchen was unused.
    Fiona wanted to tell Hannah everything, but
she knew how outlandish it all sounded. She thought she was
Elizabeth Normans, even though the firefighters had pulled her body
out of a fire. It couldn’t be possible. There was some mistake.
There had to be. She was Elizabeth Normans, and some other girl had
died in the fire.
    “ When’s the next time you’re going
to New York?” Fiona asked Hannah.
    Hannah shrugged. “Not sure. Probably not long,
it’s been two weeks.”
    “ I want to go whenever you go,”
Fiona said, trying to sound casual.
    “ Yeah, that’d be fun.”
    Troy watched them, but when Fiona looked at
him, he averted his eyes. She didn’t want to say it in front of
Hannah, but she hoped Troy didn’t come to New York. He’d nearly
ruined the trip today. If James hadn’t shown up, the only good
thing that would have happened was the article.
    Fiona’s heart slammed against her
chest. She’d completely forgotten about the article. It would run
in the Boston Herald this week. The reporter