Ethan placed his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry.” Then Emma pulled Thayer’s note to Sutton from her pocket and unfolded it. “I found this today,” she said, passing the paper to Ethan.
He grimaced as he read the letter. When he finished, he folded it neatly and handed it back to her. “Whoa. It’s like he basically confessed that he might hurt her unless things changed between them.”
“I know. And then … he did hurt her.” I shivered at Emma’s words, the memory once again spiraling in my mind. But where had Thayer taken me? It had to have something to do with my car, right? There was blood on it, after all —surely my blood. If only I could have seen the rest of the memory. I felt like the puzzle was almost complete, save for that missing piece.
“Every time I’ve seen him, he’s looked at me like he knows I’m not Sutton,” Emma whispered. “Thayer must have killed Sutton and lured me here,” she said softly. “And think about it. Since he was missing, he never had to be anywhere at any given time. He would have been able to slip around Tucson easily, spying on me, leaving me notes, threatening me.”
“You’re right,” Ethan said softly. “It would have been easy for him.”
“He’s got me where he wants me. If I say one word against him, he’ll tell the cops who I am. And then they’ll blame me for Sutton’s death. This is playing out exactly as you said it would.” She shut her eyes and started to sob again. “He told me that his lawyer is working hard to get him out of jail by next week. That could be in a matter of days! What am I going to do?”
“Shhh,” Ethan whispered. He took Emma’s hand and rested it against his jeans. “It’s okay,” he whispered.
“Thayer is still locked up. You’re still safe. There’s still time to prove what he did. I’m here with you, okay? I’m not going to let you go through this alone. I’ll keep you safe.” Emma laid her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“And I don’t know what I’d do without you. If something happened to you …” Ethan broke off, his voice cracking. “I couldn’t bear it.”
It was such a relief just to hear those words. Emma swallowed a sob and smiled gratefully at Ethan. Her lips were about to touch his when she noticed a leather journal next to the bed. It was open to a page near the back and neat letters formed short verses, like a poem. Suddenly, the guilt flooded back. The prank. Laurel had asked her to steal his work. She winced, then pulled away from him.
“I need to tell you something else,” she said.
“Something you’re not going to like.”
Ethan cocked his head. “Of course. You can tell me anything.”
Emma stared at Ethan’s hands entwined with hers, hating what she had to do next. But she had to warn him.
She took a deep breath. “Sutton’s friends are planning this prank on you. It has to do with your poetry reading.” Ethan shrank back. “What? ”
“I tried to stop them. But they really—”
“I tried to stop them. But they really—”
Ethan waved his hands, cutting her off. He blinked at her hard, as though Emma had just hit him over the head with a shovel. “How long have you known about this?” Emma lowered her eyes. “Um, a few days,” she said in a small voice.
“A few days?”
“I’m sorry!” Emma cried. “I tried to stop it! It wasn’t my idea!”
Slowly, Ethan’s expression turned from hurt to disappointment to disgust. “I think you should go,” he said numbly.
“Ethan, I—” Emma tried to reach for his hand, but he was already making his way to the door. “Ethan!” she called after him, running into the hall. They were almost to the foyer when she caught his arm and swung him around. “Please!
You told me we could be honest about everything! And I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” Ethan interrupted, wrenching his arm away. “You could have called this off instantly. They think you’re the all-powerful Sutton Mercer. One word from you and the prank’s off. Why didn’t you do that? Is it because you don’t want them to know about me? Are you”—his voice caught, and he cleared his throat roughly
—“ashamed of me?”
“Of course not!” Emma cried, but maybe Ethan had a point. Why hadn’t she tried harder to nip it in the bud? How had she let it get so out of control?
Ethan’s hand turned the doorknob. “Just go, okay?
Don’t bother talking to me until you remember who you are
—Emma Paxton, the nice twin.”
“Ethan!” Emma cried, but he’d already pushed her outside and slammed the door in her face. It was raining harder now, and the drops mixed with the tears that streamed down her cheeks. It felt like she’d just lost the only good thing she had in the world. She cupped her hands against the glass of the side window and stared into the house, watching as Ethan stormed back down the hall, knocking over a stack of books on the living room table as he went.
It was a scene I hated to watch. Once again, I cursed the Lying Game. If my friends and I hadn’t started that stupid club, Emma wouldn’t be heartbroken right now. Her one and only ally wouldn’t hate her.
Emma rang the doorbel a few times, but Ethan didn’t answer. She texted him to please talk to her, but he didn’t reply. After a while, there was no use in lingering—Ethan had made his feelings clear. She trudged across the front lawn, instantly getting soaked, wondering how she was going to get back to the Mercers. As she was pulling out Sutton’s cell phone to call the cab service again, the phone lit up in her hands. Emma frowned. The number was from the Tucson police station. A horrible thought came to her: What if the cops were calling about Thayer? What if he was being set free?