Cloned Against Her Will
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Elfy G
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40
Created in a lab to save someone else’s life, she’s spent years as nothing more than an experiment—a number, a project, a secret. But freedom comes with its own dangers. Now hiding under a new name in a quiet town, she’s learning what it means to live, to feel, and maybe even to love. The sheriff’s steady gaze makes her heart race and her carefully built walls tremble. Yet trust is a luxury she can’t afford—not when the truth about her could shatter everything she’s found. As her past threatens to resurface, she must decide whether to keep running or finally risk being seen for who she truly is.
Clone
THIRTEEN
If you’d looked at me back then, you would’ve probably guessed I was in my early twenties. But the truth? I’d only been alive for two years. It wasn’t as complicated as it sounded. I was a copy—a clone, technically.
The real me—well, the original—was Penelope Holtz. I had only existed to keep Penelope alive. That was the name we both had, once. Now, I was just a number. Thirteen.
We both had brown hair, but our eyes were different. That was how I’d known I was the copy. My eyes didn’t match the color from my memories. Well, technically, they were her memories.
Her eyes, the eyes from my mind, were a pale blue. But the eyes staring back at me in the mirror were a darker teal, just barely touched with blue.
My father—our father—had been a brilliant scientist. He’d created me to save his precious daughter. Sometimes I’d wonder if that made me his daughter too. But he hadn’t seen it that way. I was his Frankenstein’s monster.
It had all started about five years ago, when Penelope got sick. Leukemia. Little by little, her body had started to shut down. Penelope’s mother had died years before, so it was too late to try for a savior sibling. That was when Father had his big idea: me.
If Penelope needed blood, they took it from me. If she needed bone marrow, they didn’t hesitate to stick me with needles. I was always the answer.
Father had told me she wasn’t aware of my existence, that she thought her donations came from strangers. Good Samaritans.
I still remember the first time I’d opened my eyes. I was lost, scared out of my mind. For a moment, I had thought I was her. Her memories were in my head, like they were my own. But they weren’t mine. They belonged to her.
Even though Penelope and I shared the same blood, I was not a daughter. To Father, I was just a tool, a way to keep his actual daughter alive.
I had often wondered why I wasn’t sick like Penelope was. Why I hadn’t gotten the cancer that ate away at her. Why I was healthy and she was not.
But I never had the courage to ask. And even if I did, I knew he would never answer me.
“Wake up! It’s time for you to eat,” Victor, my guard, yelled from the doorway as he turned on the harsh overhead lamp.
I groaned. “Do you have to be so loud?” I rubbed my eyes, squinting at the bright light.
Victor’s face softened. “Sorry, but I have to play along, or they’ll get suspicious. If you don’t want a new guard, we have to do it this way. We’ve talked about this.”
Only two people in this place actually cared about me: Victor and Dr. Delilah.
I sat up, running my fingers through my hair. “So, what’s the schedule for today?”
“The usual, darling. Eat, train, give some blood—the same old shit.” Victor gave me a look that said he hated it as much as I did.
Fantastic.
I glanced up at him.
“What?” Victor raised his eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes. “You have to leave so I can change.”
Victor cleared his throat. “Right. Sorry!”
I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh as he practically ran out of the room.
Once I was dressed, I knocked on the door to let him know I was ready.
“Hands in front of you,” he said, holding up the handcuffs.
I frowned. “Are they really necessary?”
“You know the rules, darling,” he said quietly.
That was Victor’s thing, calling me darling when it was just us. To everyone else, I was Thirteen. But with him, I was something more.
One time, Victor had asked, “If you could pick your own name, what would it be?” I hadn’t answered. I’d realized if I chose a name for myself, it would be hers.
He’d promised he’d pick a name for me someday.
“I hate these stupid rules,” I muttered, turning around so he could cuff my wrists behind my back.
“You tried to escape. What did you expect? If there was another way, you know I’d take it.”
I sighed. “I know.”
When I had tried to run, they’d locked me in what I had thought was a tiny room, just barely large enough for me to stand, the tips of my fingers touching the walls when I stretched my arms out.
But then the ceiling had started to move down. I had thrown my hands up to stop it, but the floor had also begun to shift, rising upward. By the time they had stopped, I was bent in half, stuck like that for three days.
I could still hear Father’s words echoing in my head after they had released me: “If you think having her face will stop me from making sure you know your place, you don’t know me very well.”
I didn’t understand it. This was the same man who’d raised Penelope. I have fond memories of how he was when she was little, how caring he was toward her, how gentle he was. But I was not Penelope, and he was never truly my father, but I still loved the man from her memories.
But that’s not who he was now. I was not Penelope, and he was not really my father.
“Let’s hurry before they start questioning why we’re taking so long,” Victor said, his hand tight around my arm. It wasn’t painful, just firm, like he needed to remind everyone he didn’t care about me.
He had to keep up appearances. If anyone noticed how he treated me, Father would send someone else to watch me. And I really, really didn’t want that. I was just a prisoner here. Nothing more.
That was my reality.
I never asked for any of this.
I never asked to be created so I could save someone else.
They always made sure I ate healthy food and kept my metabolism up. I had to stick to a strict diet so my weight would match hers. One of the many rules I had to follow.
Today was no different.
My breakfast was eggs, a handful of berries, some kiwi, and half a banana. Never any bacon.
I had memories of my mom in the kitchen. Bacon sizzling on the stove. A warm smile as she transferred the bacon onto my plate. But she wasn’t my mom; she was hers. Penelope’s. Those memories weren’t mine, and I had to forget them. But forgetting didn’t stop the pain. It cut just as deeply.
Victor took off my handcuffs so I could eat. He sat next to me, sipping his coffee like nothing was wrong.
“Look who we have here.” I cringed at the sound of a new voice in the room.
Can’t he just leave me alone for one meal?
“Piss off, Eddy. Let her eat in peace,” Victor said, his voice low and warning.
I never understood what Eddy had against me. Maybe I wasn’t a real person to him. Maybe he just liked messing with me. The way he looked at me made my skin crawl. I couldn’t tell if it was disgust or something worse. Either way, he gave me the creeps.
Eddy snorted. “Why should you be the only one guarding her? If she’s too much trouble for you, I’m sure I can handle her.”
“And that’s exactly why you’ll never be left alone with her. I don’t even know why they keep you around,” Victor shot back.
I tried to focus on my food, pretending none of this was happening.
Eddy reached out, but before he could touch me, Victor shoved his hand away. “That’s why I’m here—to keep people like you away from her. This is your last warning. Try that again, and I’ll deal with you myself.”
“Hoo-hoo! Look at you, all protective. One day, you’ll slip up, and he’ll see how much you care. And I’ll be right there to take your place.” Eddy’s eyes landed on me. His smirk made my stomach twist. “I can’t wait for that day.”
I felt like I might throw up.
“Go do the fucking job you were assigned!” Victor snapped, his jaw tight.
Eddy strutted off, laughing like he’d won something.
I wanted to thank Victor, but I couldn’t. If I did, someone might notice, and I couldn’t risk losing him. He was the only steady thing I had here. Without him—whatever you’d call what we had—I’d be completely lost.
I couldn’t let that happen.
***
The nurse pricked my finger, her hands gentle but practiced. She worked with Dr. Delilah, and she had done this to me a thousand times over the past two years. Today she needed to check my hemoglobin—something about the iron in my blood.
But that wasn’t the only test they needed to run. It never was. She cleaned a spot on my arm and slid in the needle. It stung for a second, but that was it.
Victor watched the whole thing, his eyes never leaving me.
They took a little over a pint of blood, same as always. I watched it flow into the machine, feeling a little empty inside.
I had tried to count how often I was in this sterile room, my blood leaving my body so it could help hers. But it was impossible. Time blurred together in a place like this.
Dr. Delilah glanced at me, her voice light. “So, how are we feeling? Any dizziness?”
I shook my head. “No, I feel fine.”
She was just making sure. Last time, I had almost passed out.
The nurse’s eyebrow twitched, and I could tell she didn’t love how much Dr. Delilah cared about me, but I didn’t mind. Dr. Delilah and Victor were the only people here who treated me like I mattered.
Suddenly, the phone on the wall rang. We all turned to look. That phone only rang for one reason.
Father.
Shit.
The nurse hurried over and picked up. “Yes!” She listened, then nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll inform them right away.” She hung up, her face tight.
Victor stared at her, waiting for the news.
“Mr. Holtz is on his way here,” she said, pulling the needle from my arm. She handed me some crackers and juice, like that would fix everything.
Delilah shot me a worried look before following the nurse out of the room.
I stared at the snacks. I knew I should eat—losing blood made me lightheaded—but my stomach twisted.
“You should eat before he gets here,” Victor said, his voice low.
I didn’t argue. I forced myself to take a bite. My heart pounded as I downed the juice.
Father walked in. He didn’t even look at Victor. “Guard the door outside. Make sure no one enters before I’m done here.”
Victor nodded and left. I knew he had no choice. If Father thought Victor cared about me, he’d be gone. I couldn’t lose him.
Eddy’s words echoed in my mind.
If she’s too much trouble for you, I’m sure I can handle her.
I shivered. Handle me how? I didn’t want to find out. Eddy creeped me out enough already.
Once the door shut behind Victor, Father’s eyes landed on me. “Good morning, Thirteen.”
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