14
“The split happened in 1946,” Dr. Venn says. “I didn’t know it at the time. I found out later, the way you did—suddenly I was there. I met him.”
“Hold on,” I say. “Hold on.” My mouth is dry and my heart is racing. I’m having a very hard time processing this.
Daniel asks what I would have if I could come up with the words. “You’re saying there’s a parallel you.”
“Was,” Dr. Venn corrects him. “Sadly, gone for many years. In much the way Audie has described. Which is obviously why I tried to warn her.”
I swallow past what feels like a huge rock lodged in my throat. My voice comes out strangled and raw. “How … how did he die? Exactly?”
“Brain aneurism. No family history, of course, why would there be? I could have told people what happened, but no doctor in the world—either world—woul
