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Side by side, as seen on Joanna’s laptop, Rockefeller and Samuel are physically interchangeable—even Juliana detects no outward difference. Psychologically viewed, however—inferred by factors less tangible, especially in as much as the photographs are static—she who birthed the twins knows which is which. Sam is hers and Fell is his, no two ways about it. Odd that the latter’s betrothed could have gotten the pair confused, which Joanna maintains staunchly—and is the reason 'Mom' mistrusts yet approves of her all the more; to prefer Sam over Fell is to endorse of her single-parenthood.

"Let me get this straight, Sam. You propose to marry your long-lost brother’s expecting fiancée?"

Sam, a bit perturbed to find himself on the defensive when his mother is responsible for twenty-two years of deception, bristles at her failure to apologize or even to explain her rationale for having kept him in the dark about his sibling.

"Aren’t you going to tell me...?"

"Why I never told you?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, what a way to learn I’m not an only child."

He and Joanna swap self-conscious looks.

Juliana remains in shock... from seeing photos of her other son... confirming his whereabouts... reviving her maternal devastation when he suddenly disappeared... was stolen by that maniac whose egocentric influence is stamped all over Rockefeller... so much more like Stuyvesant than Sam ever could be... she hopes... she asserts... she reaffirms to herself in a solemn vow; keeping them apart perhaps the only way that Sam can stay uncontaminated.

"Is Rockefeller privy to your nuptial plans?"

Joanna takes her cue.

"He knows I’m angry. He knows the wedding is off and that I’m pregnant with his baby and that I’m having it regardless. He doesn’t know, unless his father has told him, that he has an identical twin. And he certainly doesn’t know that Sam and I have met, or that we’re happily engaged."

Juliana interrupts.

"But he’ll find out."

"Eventually, but at the moment Fell’s too busy with one of your ex-husband’s lab-rat monstrosities, some Bride of Frankenstein floozy he genetically engineered."

The vehemence with which Joanna blabs this cutting accusation staggers her addressees into silence; both mother and son react as if appalled—Juliana giving credence to the charge, Sam still incredulous, until Joanna plays the video that Rockefeller shot (pre Falk Foundation fire).

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