Seven Minutes in Heaven

31 ENDGAME

Emma ran blindly, hurtling into the depths of the canyon. Branches clawed at her ankles and whipped across her face. Ethan’s car door slammed somewhere behind her, but she didn’t turn to look. Adrenaline soared through her blood, and she flew into the trees beyond the parking lot. A crow screamed from the top of a boulder, warning the forest of her coming.

The trail was steep, and her sneakers knocked dirt loose as she climbed. Behind her she could hear Ethan scrambling for purchase, gaining on her. She whimpered, desperation coursing through her. It was like a nightmare—except in a nightmare, you could wake up.

The deeper she got into the canyon, the stronger I could feel its hold on me—the awful, magnetic pull that drew me there. Out here the world seemed sharper and more terrifying. But out here I also felt stronger, the senses that I shared with Emma somehow clearer. This was where my body had been broken. And now my sister was running toward the same fate. “Emma, you have to go back!” I screamed. “You have to get out of here!”

Tucson opened out below as she reached the overlook. Far away she could hear the rush of traffic, the thud of someone’s car stereo. She risked a glance behind her and saw Ethan’s form steadily following her. A strangled sob twisted her lungs, and she bolted again, trying to pick up speed.

Her foot caught on a half-buried root on the trail. For a moment she kept her balance, her legs dancing beneath her. But then Ethan was on top of her, tackling her to the ground. Her head bounced against a rock, and her eyes filled with stars.

When her vision cleared, she was gazing up at Ethan. He knelt over her, his eyes burning, his lips drawn back in a tight grimace. Then she felt metal against her neck, and looked down to see the edge of a knife in his hand.

The world tilted around me, and for a moment I couldn’t tell where my memory ended and Emma’s present began. They were one and the same. And now she was going to die . . . just the way I had.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. His hand dug into her shoulder where he pressed her down in the dirt. She wondered if this was how it happened with Sutton, if he’d chased her, pinned her, and thrown her off the cliff. A sob shuddered through her throat.

Ethan frowned and gritted his teeth. “I did everything, everything, for you. God, Emma!” The muscles in his neck tightened as he spat the words out. “I warned you so many times to stop digging. And you wouldn’t. It’s like some kind of sick compulsion with you, isn’t it? Why couldn’t you just be happy with the life I gave you? Why did you have to ruin everything?”

Emma stared pleadingly up at him. At the back of her mind she wondered fleetingly if Laurel was looking for her even now—but Laurel thought she was at the Banerjees’. No one was coming to help her.

“Why did you kill my sister?” she asked, desperate to keep him talking, to buy any time she could. “Was it because of the science fair prank?” The Lying Game girls had done something to Ethan in eighth grade that had cost him a scholarship. Was killing Sutton some kind of long-delayed revenge?

Ethan’s derisive snort echoed around the canyon. Nearby some small animal scrabbled away through the brush.

“That? That was years ago. That doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

“What, then?”

For a second his expression shifted. His eyes softened, and he looked sad, regretful even. He shook his head. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he said softly.

“Liar!” I shrieked, an electric rage spiking through me. Emma’s body tensed beneath his, and she closed her eyes, as if trying to hear something far away. I’d been able to communicate with her once before, the night that she met Becky out here. Could I do it again?

Slowly, Ethan pulled the blade away from her throat and sat back, though he kept the knife at his side. Emma could see it clearly now—a leather-handled hunting knife with a long, tapered blade, the moon catching on the polished steel. She tried not to stare at it.

“I loved her,” he said shortly, his lips curling with bitterness. “I came out here to tell her that. I thought I could make her see that we were meant to be together.”

A fresh wave of anguish crashed over Emma. Confusion and betrayal whirled through her head. He’d loved Sutton? Was that all he’d ever seen in Emma? Had he only wanted her as a substitute for the sister he couldn’t have?

Ethan stared down at Emma, but something in his eyes was far away and vague. For a moment she thought about taking her chance, trying to wrench free of him and run, but the sight of the knife kept her still. “I’d been in love with her for years, even though she treated me like garbage. I knew she wasn’t ready yet, that I had to be patient. Then I came out here that night, after everyone else had left her. After everyone had hurt her and lied to her and abandoned her.” His fingers curled into her shoulder as he spoke, digging painfully into her skin. “I thought for sure she’d see that I was the only one who’d been there for her all along. But all she wanted was Thayer Vega.”

I thought about the shapeless form behind the wheel of my car, bearing down on Thayer. I heard the sound of bone cracking once again.

“So you ran him over?” Emma whispered.

Ethan’s eyes flashed. “I wish I’d killed him. I’ve always hated that guy. I hated him when Sutton liked him, and I hated him when you did. He didn’t deserve to be in her life. I had to show her that.”

Tears ran down Emma’s face, leaving hot salty trails on her skin. “So you and me—it was always about Sutton. It’s just because I look like her.”

“Emma, no!” he breathed, his eyes suddenly soft. “You have to believe me.” He seemed lost for words for a moment, his shoulders knotted in agitation. Then he took a deep breath. The pressure of his hand on her shoulder disappeared. Slowly he helped her sit up, crouching by her side, but the knife still gleamed dangerously in his hand.

Emma’s eyes darted frantically around. The light filtered down through the trees, making filigree patterns over the clearing. Beyond the brush the lights of the city glittered. A boulder jutted into the middle of the trail, and beyond it the path looked steeper than ever. There was no escape. Her only hope was to keep him talking.

A jolt of recognition ran through me. I knew that boulder. This was where Garrett and I had argued. The clearing showed signs of recent disturbance—the cops who had canvassed the area for clues to my death had left footprints and broken branches in their wake—but there was no sign that anyone was nearby at this hour. A few more yards up the path, the tree line broke to reveal the ravine, opening up beyond.

Ethan took her hand in his free one, a shattered look on his face. “I never meant to fall in love with you,” he whispered. “I didn’t know there was someone out there who could make me feel this way.”

He looked so earnest, so hurt, that despite everything, a reluctant pang shot through her heart. Part of her wanted so badly to believe him—wanted to forget everything she’d just learned and go back to ignorantly, stupidly loving Ethan. If there was a way to undo what she’d learned, Emma might have done it. Because she had loved him, more than she’d ever loved anyone. And that was the most painful part.

But then she thought of everything he had done to her over the past three months. The light crashing next to her, the threatening notes, the locket tight around her neck as he strangled her. He’d made sure she felt scared and alone, that she had no one to turn to except him. He’d forced her to stay quiet, to lose her own identity, and to alienate the only family she had in this world. That wasn’t what you did to someone you loved.

She looked down at his hand in hers, her skin crawling with aversion. But she didn’t dare pull away. A vague glimmer of hope sparked at the back of her mind. Maybe if she seemed understanding—even loving—then he wouldn’t kill her. At least not yet.

“So, all those pictures of me we found in the storage unit—you took those?” she asked.

He nodded. “At first I was trying to find your mom. I knew Sutton was adopted. I still remember when she had to read her family tree report in ninth grade, how upset she got.” His gaze went distant again as he stared off into his memories. “She was so beautiful that day—she was one of those girls who looked even prettier when she cried.”

Emma suppressed a shudder. “So you started looking for her birth mom.”

“Yeah. I started investigating the Mercers and almost right away realized Becky must have been their daughter. I hacked the hospital records—and that was when I realized there were two of you.”

“Hospital records are really hard to get,” Emma said. She tried to sound impressed, maybe even a little admiring, but inside was nothing but cold, metallic terror.

He warmed to her tone easily, though—as if he fed on her approval. His eyes brightened as he spoke.

“It was pretty easy from there. I found all your information online. I made a few trips to Vegas to check you out, make sure I had the right girl. I even rode the roller coaster one day. I walked right up to you and bought a ticket.”

Emma stared at him, trying to conjure up an image of him at her kiosk. It seemed impossible that she wouldn’t have noticed him—for months now she’d been staring at him every day, preoccupied by how cute he was, obsessed with the curve of his lips, the curls in his hair. But then, all that time, she hadn’t seen him for what he really was—a murderer.

“As soon as I realized how crazy Becky was, I knew she wasn’t going to be the romantic present I’d hoped her to be.” He chuckled, then glanced at her and sobered. “But you? You were perfect. I couldn’t wait to tell Sutton all about you. You were the proof of how much I loved her—more than Thayer or Garrett or anyone else. None of them could give her a sister.” He sighed. “She would’ve been so excited to know I could lead her to you, if she’d just listened to me. But things didn’t go right, and I had to use you a different way.”

Emma swallowed. “What about those e-mails on Travis’s phone?”

He gave a crooked grin, unable to hide his satisfaction. “Fake. I had that file doctored up for weeks and was just waiting for a chance to use it. I did send him the link, but I didn’t have to promise him anything. Guys like that are so predictable. I knew he’d show it to you.”

She nodded. A heavy feeling of resignation settled on her—one by one, all the pieces of the puzzle were coming together with implacable finality. Even as her heart thrashed in her chest like a frightened bird, a sickly, dull weight pressed down on her. Ethan had thought of everything. All along, he’d had the reins. “And you knew about the video because you’d walked in on the prank happening. You knew it had to be on Laurel’s computer, and you hacked it. Just like you hacked Charlotte’s alarm codes to break in and give me back the locket.” She licked her dry lips. Her hand felt like wood in his, but she squeezed it softly, her eyes still on the knife shining in the moon. “That’s pretty brilliant, Ethan.”

She knew right away she’d said the right thing. He blinked in surprise, a flush of pleasure tinting his cheeks, and she remembered what the psychiatrist had written, about how Ethan couldn’t keep from bragging about his crimes. “And what about Nisha?”

Again his expression fluttered, like he was fighting some feeling that lingered at the back of his mind. “I didn’t have a choice. I knew she’d found those records. After you told me you’d seen them in the hospital, I had a feeling she’d go looking for them. That Monday she was acting weird when she got in from her volunteer shift—usually she at least said hi when she saw me out on the porch, but this time she wouldn’t even look at me. Just scurried into the house with her manila folder clutched in her hands. I called the hospital to ask if they could fax my records to a new shrink, and they told me then the records had gone missing.” He shrugged sadly. “She was going to ruin everything. So I spiked her water bottle with my mom’s Valium. Then it was just a matter of giving her a little push.”

A little push. I shuddered, imagining Nisha rolling slowly into the pool. Imagined her lungs filling with water. Imagined her opening her eyes and staring through the rippling blue at the figure standing overhead, watching her die.

“You two were going to ruin everything,” he said. His eyes narrowed, and he stared at Emma like she’d just said something wrong. She flinched at the sudden mood swing. “I had everything taken care of, but you had to keep digging.” He raised the knife high overhead, his teeth bared like a lion’s. Emma cringed, waiting to feel the blade on her flesh. But instead he drove it into the ground, giving a frustrated grunt. “You had nothing when you came here. I saw what was in your bag. One stuffed animal and some threadbare clothes? Oh, and the journal. Page after page after page of how sad you were, how much you wanted a family, how poor Emma Paxton was so alone. How you wanted a boyfriend.” Emma stared at him. Her heart shriveled in her chest, as if some disease were ravaging it to ash. Ethan’s eyes blazed. “I gave you everything you ever wanted. You should be thanking me!”

Emma kept her face very carefully still, holding back the tears and the pain that threatened to burst through at any moment. “You can’t kill me,” she whispered. “If you do they’ll know I didn’t kill Sutton. They’ll figure it out, and they’ll come find you. You need me. I’m your cover.”

He shook his head. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to kill you. I never wanted to kill you. I just wanted to take care of you, Emma, and now you’re going to make me hurt you. Just like she did.” His fingers slid out of hers, tightening instead around her wrist. “It’ll be a really sad story. They’ll all think you committed suicide out of remorse for what you did to Sutton.”

A chill shot through her, and she shook her head furiously. “No, Ethan. It doesn’t have to be like this.” She looked deeply into his eyes, sickened by what she was saying, hoping he’d buy it. “You’re right. I should be grateful to you. I am grateful to you. It’s all just been confusing. But I don’t care what you’ve done. I want to be with you.”

His jaw went slack, all the fury rushing out of him at once. An uncertain frown creased his brow. But she could see that he was listening.

“It’s too late, Emma.” Her wrist ached dully in his grip, but she didn’t break his gaze. “Now that you know, it’s too late.”

“Why?” Emma said softly. “If you really love me as me, not as Sutton, then nothing else matters. We can run away together. Somewhere no one knows us. We can go anywhere.” She twisted her hand in his grip so she could stroke his fingers lightly.

She could see in his face, in the way he leaned just a little bit closer, that he wanted to believe her. But doubt clouded his features. It almost broke her heart, how hopeful he looked, how badly he wanted what she proposed.

Almost.

“You’d do that?” he asked. He let go of the hilt of the knife, bringing his free hand up to hold her face. His hand was cool and dry, but the touch of it made her skin crawl. Somehow she managed to smile and nod.

“Ethan, I love you. I’d go anywhere with you.”

He let go of her wrist then, pulling her into his arms. She rested her head against him, just the way she’d done dozens of times before—right into the crook between his neck and shoulder, in the place that felt like it’d been made for her. She choked back a sob. She had loved Ethan, so very much.

Then she brought her elbow into his ribs with every ounce of strength she had.

His arms flew to his side, a grunt of pain escaping his lungs. She grabbed for the knife as she scrambled away, but her fingers closed on air. No time. Her only chance was to put distance between them. Her fingers clawed at the dirt, her feet sliding across the trail, desperate for purchase. His hand closed on her ankle, and he snarled in fury. She kicked out as hard as she could, but his grip was too strong. Then she opened her mouth and let out a guttural, blood-curdling scream.

I screamed with her, wishing the whole city could hear my cries. I had already died at Ethan’s hands, and now the same thing was going to happen to my twin while I watched, helpless.

Ethan clapped his hand over Emma’s mouth, his pupils wide and dark. “I thought you were different,” he hissed. “But you’re just like your sister. Another lying bitch.”

Emma bit down on his hand, hard. The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth. Ethan swore and pulled his hand away, and she screamed again.

“You’re a monster!” she shrieked, her voice ricocheting off the canyon walls. “You think I’d go anywhere with you after what you did to Sutton?”

He gave a wordless roar, his muscles tightening as he shoved her hard to the ground. This time he pulled a bandana out of his pocket, wadding it up and shoving it so far in her mouth she gagged. And then the knife was suddenly at her throat.

Emma stared up at him, tears coursing down her cheeks as he opened a thin, shallow cut on her neck. A white-hot fury coursed through me at the sight, so pure and strong I felt like I could rip straight through the veil between life and death.

And then, somehow, I was Emma. Or I was a part of her—not possessing her, exactly, but somehow joining my soul to hers for a moment, lending her the strength of my anger. With a sudden motion, her right leg broke free from below his, and we brought her knee to his groin with all of our combined might.

He groaned, his grip on her wrists slackening for just as long as it took her to roll out from under him. Then she was on her feet. She gasped for breath, and for one split second she thought she saw something impossible.

Her sister—shimmering and translucent in the moonlight—was next to her, standing fiercely over Ethan with her fists balled up. And then, just as quickly, she was gone.

Ethan was already on his feet again. His face was twisted beyond all recognition, a mask of hatred so utterly different from the boy she’d fallen in love with. She staggered away from him, pivoting on her heel to run—but lost her balance and sprawled forward.

Ethan towered over her, the knife in his hand. A single drop of her own blood clung to the blade. “You Mercer girls are all the same,” he said and lunged toward her, the knife flashing before him.

For a split second, time froze. Emma saw her own reflection, pale and frozen, in the blade.

But then a low snarl sounded from somewhere behind Ethan, and suddenly he was flying headfirst into the dirt. Thayer fell on top of him, clinching his arms behind his back.

From far below, the sound of sirens echoed up through the mountain pass. Thayer twisted Ethan’s wrist until the knife fell out and clattered into the dust. Ethan struggled, spitting blood and dirt out of his mouth.

Laurel stepped out from behind them, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re right. We Mercer girls are all alike,” she said, her voice cold. “We’re bitches you don’t want to mess with.”