Most people don’t remember having lived before. If they do, the memories soon fade. Luke Milner was unusual, and knew it. His memories were clear and sharp.

Painfully so.

He squirted window cleaner onto the glass door of his bookshop and wiped away fingerprint smudges. Sometimes he had to force himself to concentrate on even this simple task because he kept looking for her face in the parade of tourists outside his window.

He wore the same face as long ago. It didn’t necessarily follow that she would.

She might look completely different.

If he didn’t recognize her, what then? He crushed his paper towel into a wad, fired it into a metal wastebasket and turned to prowl between the long aisles of bookshelves. If she returned to Port Darkling, he didn’t know what he should do.

He only knew history must not repeat itself.

He mustn’t let her die.

Not again.

With a deep sigh, Miri Ellis slipped the navy blue coat from her shoulders and hung it in the closet, then took her sister’s purple cape. "Well, that’s over. At last." The months since her mother’s death had been some of the worst in her life.

"Amen. I thought the funeral would be the hardest thing to face, but going through sixty years worth of accumulated stuff was worse." Aurora Ellis dropped onto the sofa, took a cigarette from her purse, and eyed the crowded living room of Miri’s apartment. "You’re just like our mother was, you know. A pack rat."

Miri smiled sadly, wandered to the window and opened the drapes. "Look who’s talking. You’re a motor mouth, just like her. After she got sick, you’re the one who kept customers coming into the shop with your constant line of jabber about tarot cards and uncracked crystals."

Aurora made a rude sound through her nose. "The word is flawless, not uncracked."

"Anyway, that shop made a lot of money for Mom over the years." Miri strolled to an ornately framed mirror and inspected it for smudges, frowned when she found a speck of dust on the gilded frame, and wiped it away with her fingertip.

"Yeah, it did, but you’re the one who invested it for her." Aurora blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling. "And now it’s ours. We’ll sell it and start our boutique, like we’ve wanted since we were kids. I’ll design dresses, sew them, cater to the customers, and you’ll fuss over money and details. And probably be an antique swapper on the side."

"Antique dealer." Miri frowned, tossed her sister a worried look. "Uh, Sis--"

"Don’t call me that," Aurora interrupted with a shudder. "I’ve told you a million times. People should be called by names, not titles. Sister is a title."

"You called our mother Mom."

Aurora flushed. "I know. Childish habit. I guess I always felt Mom was her name. Anyway, titles destroy natural balance.

"Sorry. I keep forgetting about balance, whatever that is. Talk about being like our mother. I never could keep up with all your weird ideas."

"You don’t really try."

"No, I don’t. To me, nonsense is nonsense and reason is reason."

"How two people with such different vibratory aspects could be twins is a universal mystery. Now sit," Aurora commanded to stop her from wandering around the room. She pointed to the nearest chair. "What’s bugging you? You’re bouncing around the room like a bee in a bottle. Sit. Talk to me."

Miri pulled as much oxygen into her lungs as she could and released it slowly. She could never predict her sister’s reaction. To anything. They were twins, identical in appearance, but that was the extent of their similarity. At least that either would admit. Miri’s straight chestnut brown hair was long, kept in a tight bun. Aurora’s was short, curly, and cut gamin style. Aurora wore heavy mascara, kohl lined her aquamarine eyes; Miri used only a touch of mascara, a hint of lip gloss. And she knew absolutely nothing about vibratory aspects. If she thought burying her mother had been hard, the next half hour might be pure hell. She perched on the edge of a chair. "I’m not going into business with you. I’m going to Port Darkling, instead."

"Is that all?" Aurora laughed. "Taking a little break before we buckle down? Probably not a bad idea." She pulled an ashtray close and ground out her cigarette. "Why Port Darkling? I heard it has lots of artists and writers and crumbling buildings, but that’s not your kind of place. It’s probably full of weirdos like me."

"I’m pretty weird myself these days," Miri said, relief at her sister’s calm reaction washing over her. "You know the recurring dreams I’ve had this past month?"

"Yeah. You said something about them the other day. So what’s the big deal? You’ve had vivid dreams all your life." Aurora inclined her head and squinted. "At least since Duke Ellis died. It’s probably a result of--."

"Forget it, Aurora." Any reference to their father made her stomach feel like she’d swallowed pickle juice. "I don’t need another lecture on New Age thought. Anyway, from what I can remember when I wake up, I think these dreams take place in Port Darkling."

Aurora frowned. "What makes you think that? You’ve never been there."