tricks of time ― grayson hawthorne [the inheritance games]

028. CUT THE BULLSHIT

Emily. It was always Emily. Of course Jameson was stunned as well. The pieces of the puzzle have finally come together. 

I scoff and fold my arms over my chest. "You know, for someone who's been compared to 'Emily' since the day I got here, I think I at least deserve to know who she is. Or am I just like Celeste," I sneer, "your second option?" 

Grayson shuts up. "Just...stop, you know I didn't mean it like that." 

"Just cut the bullshit, alright Grayson? I don't give a damn about what you do with Celeste, alright? That's your business." 

"Then why were you up there that night anyway? Were you stalking me, or something?" 

I snort. "Stalking you? Why is this on me again?" 

He shrugs. "Well, I don't know, clearly you get very obsessed with people, so..." 

"How about you learn to admit your own mistake once in a while, okay? I went up there to clear my head." 

"I didn't mean it like that. I was just saying-" 

"No. I know exactly how you meant it. Stop being delusional." 

We both stand in silence for a few seconds and I fake a smile quickly at a passing waiter. "Tell me who Emily is. I don't care what she meant do you or whatever bullshit. Because I just feel like everyone is whispering Emily, like, all the time, and I'm tired of not knowing anything. I deserve to know." 

"Stop!" He exclaims. His eyes are winced shut and he looks like my words are hurting his head. 

He bends down to pick up the broken crystal and I follow suit. When he speaks, it's quiet. "She looked a lot like you." 

I pause and the glass pierces my skin. I wince. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. 

"Was Emily the reason you sought out Celeste? After she died?" 

He looks up, alarmed. "What has Jameson told you?" 

I shake my head. "Never-mind what he's told me. All he told me; is that it's your story and you only can tell me." 

Grayson chuckles, dryly and it's hoarse. 

"Did Jameson tell you I killed her?" 

The world goes blank. 

___

Somehow, I lied to Grayson about having to clean up the blood on my hand and I made my way to the bathroom without looking too much like I was running away. I fumbled to tear my phone out of the black satin handbag I'd been given, unsure what I was planning to do with the phone once I got it out. Someone stepped up to the mirror beside me.

"You look nice," Celeste said, casting a glance sidelong at me. "In fact, you look perfect."

I stared at her, and comprehension dawned. Then, it all hits me like a wave crashing against the shore. "What did you do, Celeste?" 

She glanced down at her own phone, hit a few buttons, and a moment later, I had a text. I hadn't even realized she had my number.

I opened the text and the picture attached, and all of the blood drained from my face. In this photo, Emily Laughlin wasn't laughing. She was smiling at the camera- a wicked little smile, like she was on the verge of a wink. Her makeup was natural, but her eyes looked unnaturally large, and her hair...It was exactly like mine. 

"What did you do?" I asked Celeste again, more accusation this time than question. She'd invited herself along on my shopping trip. She was the one who'd suggested I wear green- just like Emily wore in this photo.