𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 | 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦

10

grayson

i'd expected jessie violet anderson to be like quinn.

so, not like emily. quinn was nothing like emily. she was honest and only lied whites- but always in a teasing way and made up for it after. she was hot-headed and whatever weighed on her mind came out instantly in short bursts of anger. her fuse was practically nonexistant. she cared for the ones that cared for her, didn't care for the ones that didn't. so far out of the couple public appearances she'd made, she'd spoken little, ignored most, and basically nailed all the points a professional media consultant would teach you in the first lesson.

god, she was so hard to figure out. sometimes she was that. but sometimes she was sweet, and genuine. she would make these adorable faces at me but not in a way to seriously manipulate, but as a joke. i found most things she did were either pure nonsense and just meant for comedic purposes or completely serious and no-nonsense. fiercely protective at some times, but she probably also wanted to be subconsciously protected as well, from the way she presented herself around me.

i'm not sure if she noticed.

emily was nothing like her, and quinn was nothing like emily.

so what was jessie anderson?

the answer was a psycho.

so emily in a nutshell.

from the moment i walked into the dining hall with quinn something was most definitely off. five of oren's men in the standard black suits were standing around one of the dining chairs. oren himself stood behind us, so close he nearly breathed down my neck. alisa was there as well- but a considerable distance away from the chair in which a girl was sitting on.

considering she was quinn's twin, they were the same age, though they didn't look at it. while quinn looked a little more mature than her age, jessie was the opposite. her face was rounder and softer to quinn's angular, her hair short, lighter, and ending two inches below the chin. a smattering of freckles dotted her face, and her lips were redder than supposed to be natural while her skin was paler than life. one of her arms propped up her head, the other resting against the armrest, which i saw was cuffed to the plush fabric. she was wearing a coquette style dress with tiny light blue accents, and white ankle boots, one leg crossed over the other, leaving a glimpse of a pale blue garter on one thigh.

if i'd ever been emotionally affected by quinn's uncanny resemblance to emily- now not so much, due to her being brought out by the stylists- i was definitely in danger of not breathing now.

if jessie violet anderson's hair was red and longer, no one would've doubted she was emily laughlin.

god, she was so like her in every single way. the way she dressed, the pale skin.

i tore my eyes away from her and focused on the table as quinn sat down directly across jessie, eyeing her with a look that was not unlike pure suspicion.

alisa cleared her throat, and i sat down in the chair next to her. the uncanny thing was jessie didn't take her eyes off me at all. her cloudy blue eyes, slightly bigger than quinn's, tracked every one of my movements with a precision i didn't like.

alisa closed her laptop. 'grayson. quinn. this is jessica vi-'

'just jessie.' her high, girlish drawl had an oily quality to it- excessively smooth, way too sincere for it to be true. (in simpler terms, the voice of a kiss-ass)

a tiny furrow appeared in alisa's brow, but disappeared just as quick. 'jessie. alright. fine. i trust all three of you are familiar in terms of the will that tobias hawthorne has left behind concerning jessie's stay and quinn's inheritance conditi-'