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The Lost Girl by Sangu Mandanna

The Lost Girl by Sangu Mandanna

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Published by EpicReads

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Published by: EpicReads on Sep 13, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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Sangu Mandanna
 An Imprint of 
Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
The Lost GirlCopyright © 2012 by Sangu MandannaAll rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address HarperCollins Children’s Books, a division of HarperCollins Publishers, 10 East 53rd Street, New York, NY 10022.www.epicreads.comLibrary of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication DataMandanna, Sangu.The lost girl / Sangu Mandanna. — 1st ed.p. cm.Summary: “Sixteen-year-old Eva is the clone of a girl living far,far away on another continent—and when this ‘other’ dies, Evamust step in and take over her life.”—Provided by publisher.ISBN 978-0-06-208231-2[1. Cloning—Fiction. 2. Science fiction.] I. Title.PZ7.M31219Lo 2012 2012006548[Fic]—dc23 CIPACTypography by Torborg Davern12 13 14 15 16 LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
remember being in town with Mina Ma. I must have beenabout ten. She wanted to buy a lottery ticket, and I stoodoutside the corner store and looked in the window of thetoy shop next door. There was a man in the shop, sittingon a stool with a knife and a large piece of wood in hishands. He worked at the wood with the knife, chipping andwhittling away, shaping the wood into arms, little legs, aface. I watched him smooth the rough edges with sandpaper,then pick up a wig of soft, almost black hair and fasten it withglue to the doll’s head. Finally he sewed a tiny white dressand buttoned it around the doll. The whole thing looked likedancing. His hands moved so delicately, so
.When I imagine how
was made, that’s how I imagineit. I dont know the reality, of course; no one will ever fullyexplain it. Mina Ma once told me there was fire. Erik saidthey stitch us together. So I imagine my Weaver sitting ata great oak desk in a workshop. The sunlight glints off thewood. I imagine he’s got a bit of my other’s skin, a bit of her 
, and he uses it to make me look just like her. To put a bit

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