Two Truths and a Lie

EPILOGUE

As I watched Laurel glare at Emma, a flash of my last memory swarmed my vision. I saw myself hiding in the brush after Thayer had been run down. I’d felt so distraught, so overcome with guilt and fear for his safety. And then I saw two eyes lock with mine. Laurel stared at me with burning rage. Everything in her look said that she blamed me for what happened to Thayer. And I had a strange feeling she was going to do more than just glare at me. Her look said she wanted to reach through the brush and teach me a lesson for all the ways I’d ruined everything.

She looked like she wanted to hurt me—and she looked like she wanted to do the same to Emma now.

In moments, Laurel’s face disappeared from the window. Thayer slipped inside the house to see her. My twin remained on the porch, reeling from everything that had just happened, too afraid to admit what she’d just seen.

But I couldn’t help but mull it over in my mind. Yes, I’d ruled Laurel out as a suspect. She’d been at Nisha’s sleepover all night on the night I died. But there was something about that fact that didn’t add up. If Laurel had rescued Thayer from Sabino Canyon, then she hadn’t been at Nisha’s the whole night. Either Nisha was mistaken … or lying … or Laurel had snuck out without her knowing.

And if Laurel had snuck away from Nisha’s, why couldn’t she have snuck away from Thayer, too? Dropped him off at the hospital, then returned for me while he was in surgery. She’d looked so mad. I had ruined her beloved’s life. I had had a secret tryst with him, a tryst she wanted to have. I had gotten everything she wanted … always.

I hated to think my own flesh and blood could have done such a thing. But that was the wrinkle: Laurel wasn’t my flesh and blood. Sure, we’d grown up under the same roof, lived by the same rules our parents had imposed, but there was always a big chasm between us. I was adopted; she wasn’t. We never let each other forget that. The only real flesh and blood I had was Emma.

And Emma needed answers, fast. Because it looked like my killer could be closer than either of us realized—maybe even under the very same roof.